3. Easton

Chapter 3

Easton

"Are you listening?"

What? " Oui ," Easton lied, snapping back to attention. He tightened the strap of his helmet and then climbed the gate. From the top rung, he stared down at Onyx Alpha. Its hide glistened a shimmery ebony as if slicked with crude oil. Swinging a leg over, Easton placed his foot on the animal's back, and it reared upward as if climbing out of the chute. The arena lights flickered. "For all that's unholy," Easton mumbled, pausing to allow the snorting bull to settle before reattempting his mount.

"Woo-wee!" Marcel exclaimed. " Gardez-donc. "

Easton clenched his stubbled jaw as he repositioned himself over the bull and handed off his rope.

"Handle that," Royal yelled, his voice rising above the noise of the arena.

Easton questioned how he had heard him so distinctly. And no, it wasn't his imagination. He'd know that erogenous baritone that melted every part of him that mattered anywhere. As many times as Royal had leaned close to whisper a private matter in his ear, causing Easton to nearly cream his pants, there was no chance of him mistaking it… unless it really was his imagination. Am I losing my mind?

Onyx Alpha reared up again, swiftly catapulting Easton back to reality. The bull's snorts stirred the sawdust in the chute, and its back hooves banged against the steel. Again, Easton steadied himself—more his nerves than his body—and gritted his teeth.

Shit! Now isn't the time for drifting thoughts. Focus.

Easton's gateman threaded a rope through the rungs over the bull—a measure to discourage movement. However, it did little to deter the bull from lying back and rattling the gate.

Ornery bastard!

"You and I are going to have to come to an understanding," Easton muttered at the bovine as he shook down his bell. "Cos this right here isn't working, sha ." The bull snorted as if in response, but Easton steeled his jaw and proceeded to wrap the rope around his gloved hand until tight. "Let's do this fais do do ," he stated, giving the nod.

The chute yanked open, and Onyx Alpha lunged forward straight into a spin, its hind legs perpendicular to the ground. Ah hell! A sharp pain snapped in Easton's back as he was jolted forward, narrowly missing the animal's curving horns and his free hand millimeters from a disqualification. His hips skidded left when the bull's hooves dug into the arena floor, the momentum propelling dirt pellets into Easton's face, before whipping in the opposite direction. Plumes of warm exhaust billowed from the bull's flaring nostrils. In the swirls, a figure formed in the vague shape of a human. Sunken, slanted eyes glowed scarlet on an angular face with a hooked nose and bulging blue veins. It floated toward Easton's face, its tendril-forked fingers clawing for his throat. "Cheater," it seethed.

Blood drained from Easton's face, and his throat parched. Bitch! That was no hallucination before him. "Stay back, demon!"

As the shape was about to make contact, Onyx Alpha launched forward, shearing the dust cloud and the contained figure. The animal whirled in a way that should defy gravity, and Easton swayed—uncertain if due to the motion or the vision.

"Get over him," Marcel shouted. " Lache pas las patate ."

Get over? Fuck getting over the beast. Easton didn't want to get under it. Adjusting his weight, he hoisted himself up as best as he could as the bull dove again. Sweat slid into his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision—as if he needed to append an additional layer of difficulty. Another hard landing and Onyx Alpha lost its footing. Time blurred a second—not even enough of a span for panic to register—into infinity. Easton felt his grip slip and body sail through the air, flipped ass over head as the bull crashed down on its hip. An instant later, Easton slammed into the earth, jolting the breath from his lungs, and rolled several times before coming to a stop. Disoriented and wheezing, he staggered to his feet on instinct and hobbled toward the first glint of steel. Coolness seeped through his sock, bringing his awareness to the loss of his boot. Yelling and hooves pounding behind him alerted him to the danger of the charging beast that failed to be corralled by bullfighters.

"Oh, God!"

"He won't help," an unearthly voice cackled.

Gripping a gate rung, he didn't have the strength to pull up. Mercifully, sturdy arms hauled him over and out of the way.

"Did you see it? That thing?" he asked, inhaling a robust scent of mint. "Did you?—"

"Shh!"

Easton's gaze slowly tracked the length of the powerful arm to the intense face of its owner. When their eyes met and held, he heard the soft groan.

"I got you," Royal soothed, his voice practically a whisper. Something curious glinted in his wide eyes that evoked the same in Easton.

Yes, you do . A faint blush stained Easton's cheeks at the realization that Royal was holding him longer and tighter than he should. He wanted to extend his hand and stroke Royal's jaw. Instead, he said, " Merci ."