Her Wolf King

{le cheval}

THE HORSE

As they were eating dinner that night, a horse thundered into the house.

Lenore, who was by now expecting wild animals to traipse in and out at all hours, had no objection. Everett, however, saw matters differently. He cursed, nearly dropping his knife and fork. "That is your horse, darling wife, not mine. Get it under control."

"Simply because it fled every time it saw you for half a century and is eating out of my hand now... doesn't make the horse mine," she said weakly. She really had no excuses in this scenario. "Or, rather... I haven't even named the thing."

"Perhaps that's why it's come crashing into our dining room,"  Everett said drily.

"Watch your tone or you'll be sleeping in the doghouse," she said, half-joking.

He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing as she took a carrot from the selection of vegetables on the table, offering one to the horse flat on her palm. The horse ate out of her hand, but as she was feeding it, she noticed something different about it. Its bridle looked more ornate, with gold and jewels set into the leather. She trailed her hand along the leather, finding an envelope attached to the bridle. Then she looked into the horse's eyes and realized it wasn't her horse at all.

"This isn't the horse I found in the woods," she said, taking a step back, eyes wide. The remnant of the carrot rolled off of her palm, landing on the floor. This horse was not hers. This horse smelled... strange, not like horseflesh or hay, but like rotting apples and dried roses. Dead and dying things.

The horse neighed, pawing the marble. She plucked the envelope from the bridle, about to open it.

"Then whose is it?" Everett tossed his dinner napkin onto the chair and joined her at the horse's side. When he saw the horse, he dragged her away from it, his forearm pressing against her collar. She gripped his arm, confused.

"What are you doing?" Lenore tried to tug at his grip, but he was too strong, his body unyielding.

"That is no ordinary horse," he hissed. "That horse belongs to the Queen of Curses."

They both stared at the horse. Aside from its lavish bridle, it looked completely normal. But when she gazed into its eyes... A strong sense of darkness, of coldness, washed over her. She was reminded of the depths of the ocean, unexplored and for good reason.

"Why would she send us a horse?"  Lenore opened the envelope.

Everett read it aloud over her shoulder. "Congratulations on your wedding day. Warmest regards, Marya."

"Is this horse going to stampede over us in our sleep?" she said. Perhaps this marriage would not be all that she had thought it would be. Not, of course, that she had thought it would be much of anything at all.

"Possibly."

Lenore turned the card over and read the scrolling script on the backside. "Consider this horse my wedding gift to you. I tried to tame it but failed. Perhaps you will succeed where I have not."

The horse whinnied. It sounded like it was in pain. Everett's arm dropped from her throat, and she ran over to it. The horse was bleeding, its flanks glossy with sweat, its mane matted and lash marks marred its white fur. Blood dripped onto the floor. At first, she thought it was merely a trick of the light, that the droplets seemed to be black.

But when they hit the stone floor, the liquid hissed, like acid.

"That's not just a wild stallion she tried to break," Everett said darkly. "It is turned."