Riot comes up in a quiet whirl of flames stirring on the…

““Riot comes up in a quiet whirl of flames stirring on the concrete floor. They build into a small burning tornado that solidifies into thousands of pounds of smoldering horse. Broad. Red. All raw power. If he were a real horse, he’d be a medium draft horse, or a warmblood. Not a Budweiser Clydesdale, but you wouldn’t see him winning the Kentucky Derby, either. The guys joke because he’s the biggest of our mounts. A lightweight tank with an attitude. But he’s the greatest companion. The best. I can’t even picture what my life was like before he came along. His amber eyes find me first, then look around, checking things out, eventually coming back to me. I smile. It’s not that I hear his thoughts. It’s more that I know them. Bad day, Gideon? That’s too bad. But I’m here now so you’ll be better. Hey, nice view. “Come here, horse,” I say, but I’m the one who goes to him. I call up my armor so I don’t have to be careful about burning my clothes. Then I bury my hands deep into his mane, sending a shiver of embers into the night sky. He makes a low deep sound, telling me he’s listening. That I can tell him what I’d never say to anyone, not even Marcus. “I screwed up, Riot. Didn’t stick with the plan. Said some really stupid things. Really stupid.” Ohhh. That’s not good, Gideon. But it happens. Especially with Daryn. Don’t worry. Tomorrow you’ll do your best and try to fix it. I like Wyoming. I laugh. Then I let my face fall forward, and rest my forehead on his broad neck. Letting his fire spread over me, and through me, and around me. Warm. True. Like peace.””

— Veronica Rossi