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“You must be the most gentle and gentlemanly stallion I’ve ever met. Your temperament and size remind me of the Clydesdale or the Shire. What are you? Over two thousand pounds? Maybe closer to three? But you’re sotall! Like the Percheron. Your long hair and shiny black coat look more like a Friesian’s. Gah! I have hair envy. And that’s saying something!”
Andros didn’t know what all those terms she mentioned were. He didn’t know of other horses that looked like him. He was always taller, bigger, stronger, faster than any horse he’d ever encountered.
The centaur who pounded him into the ground and damaged his head rose in his mind’s eye again. Perhaps that beast was of similar size as Andros was now. At the time, when he’d been small, the creature had appeared to be a giant.
Unbidden, his heart accelerated with adrenaline.
“Whoa,” Divina murmured, pulling his head down to hers again when he would have moved away.
“Stay here with me. Wherever your thoughts have gone, don’t let them control you. Focus on me.”
He tried, turning his ears forward to listen more closely, taking in deep draws of her scent. Like magic, it worked.
“Come on,” she coaxed, nudging him toward the lake, “let’s get your washed up. You can eat more later and rest up for the night.”
She waded first into the shallow area of the lake, squealing as the dog bounded after her and hurtled happily into the water, soaking her through with its playful splashes, followed by a vigorous shake of its fur.
“Chewie! You fiend! Now I smell like wet dog! Shoo! Go play over there.”
With its fur wet and sticking to its body, the creature looked slightly smaller, but not by much, its body big boned, its head massive. It swam around a bit and paddled back to shore, shaking out its fur again, and lay down on the bank, stretching its jaws in a contented yawn.
“Your turn, beautiful,” Divina gestured to him with a crook of her hand.
“Come here. Let’s wash away the last of the dirt.”
Andros had always loved water, and he was a strong swimmer. But it was night, and the sky was a deep violet blue. He couldn’t tell where the bottom was beneath the water’s surface. He could see that Divina was already submerged to her collarbone.
Carefully, he waded in, slowly approaching her as she bobbed in the deeper part of the lake.
She leaned her head back and gazed up at the night sky, her pale throat a perfect arch.
“Look at all the stars out here,” she murmured softly.
“I wonder if I can count them all. Where I come from, you’d be amazed at the fantastical scenery, colors and magic. But there’s something so natural and raw about this place, yet delicate and refined. I’ve never been to ancient Greece before. But I could definitely get used to this.”
The closer Andros came, the faster his heart sped.
He’d never seen anything as mesmerizing as the loveliness of Divina’s face. Her expression of awe and wonder and innate joy. The ready affection that made her glow.
Just then, she turned to him, big eyes dark and captivating.
Ensnaring.
He became more light headed the longer he stared—
And faltered when his front hoof slipped off a sudden ledge, falling all the way into the lake until the water covered his head.
For a few moments, he thrashed with disorientation beneath the water, trying to regain his footing or claw back to the surface. This total darkness reminded him too much of the past, the endless nights and days he’d lain insensate, struggling in and out of consciousness after the centaur had struck his head.
Where was he?
Why did everything hurt?
Why did someone try to kill him?
Who was he?
Andros…
