Chapter 213 The Sacrifice Play
The change was so sudden it seemed to rip the air apart. One moment the chestnut mare was standing calm under the winter sun, the next she was a bolt of raw muscle and panic, tearing across the arena with Amelia clinging to her back.
It happened too fast for anyone to react. By the time the crowd understood what they were seeing, the horse had already covered half the field, hooves pounding like war drums, each strike reverberating through the wooden stands.
Gasps and sharp intakes of breath cut through the noise.
"What the hell happened? Why is it going crazy?"
"Something spooked it... and Amelia was about to dismount. She's taken her helmet off. There's no way she can get down safely now."
"Safe? She just has to hold on to the reins and pray she doesn't get thrown."
"She's not wearing a helmet! At this speed, if she falls..."
It wasn't just the students whispering in alarm. Even Amelia herself hadn't seen this coming. The mare had been steady in the stable, obedient through two full rounds of obstacle jumps. Horses used for lessons were trained to be predictable, calm under pressure. This kind of frenzy was not supposed to happen.
But it was happening nowand it was violent.
She didn't have the luxury to question why. The mare was accelerating, heedless of the course, the rhythm of her stride turning into a relentless pounding. The arena's open space amplified every hoofbeat into a physical blow. Amelia's spine and shoulders took the shock each time the horse landed, her body jarring so hard she could feel her teeth clack together.
The wind tore at her face, sharp as broken glass, forcing her eyes into a squint. Her breath came ragged and thin, chest compressed by the constant jolt. She had seconds to decide how to survive.
Without a helmet, a fall at this speed would mean more than bruises. It would mean broken bones, maybe worse.
She tried first for control, tightening her grip on the reins, shifting her weight to guide the mare. But the animal was beyond responding. Its panic was complete. She could feel it in the taut line of its neck, the wild flare of its nostrils.
She abandoned control for survival.
Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around the horse's neck, legs locked against its sides. She pressed herself flat to its back, trying to merge their weight and center of gravity into something stable enough to keep her in place.
Her ponytail had already come loose, hair whipping in the wind, strands stinging her cheeks. The world narrowed to the rush of air and the thunder of hooves.
"Hold on!"
"Amelia! stay with it!"
"Oh God, she's going to fall!"
"Stop that horse! Somebody stop it!"
The shouts blurred into the edge of her awareness. Students stood from the bleachers, some covering their mouths, others frozen with their eyes locked on the racing mare.
Lon and two assistants, along with a pair of campus security officers, broke into a run towards the trackbut the horse was too fast, too unpredictable. Even if they reached it, they couldn't simply grab the reins. The risk of making it rear or buck was too high.
All they could do was watch.
The mare surged again, clearing a double rail with reckless power, landing hard enough to send tremors through the ground. The vibration traveled up through Amelia's bones, into her ribs, shaking her stomach until she thought she might throw up.
Her vision began to tunnel, the edges darkening, shadows creeping inward. She clenched her grip, muscles screaming, but her arms felt heavyladen.
She was running out of strength.
And then she saw it, the glint of something unnatural.
Her gaze dropped to the mare's right foreleg. Strapped above the hoof was a small, gold charm. On any other day she might have dismissed it as debris. But now... she knew exactly what it was.
Lon's charm.
The realization was a cold blade in her mind. He had done this. He had made the horse lose control.
Memories from another life flashed like lightning. Lon had never stopped probing, never let go of his suspicion. Questions, subtle tests, even the obstacle match with Kelly. It had all been a hunt for truth.
And now... this.
A head-on collision with danger. If she fell without a helmet, the injury could be catastrophic. If she was what Lon suspected, a Rose Dryad, she would instinctively use soul power to save herself. And if she did, Lon would know.
Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding from the force of her grip. She turned her head towards him.
Lon was watching, eyes sharp, reading every movement.
She understood something vital in that instant. If Lon believed there was a chance she was human, he wouldn't let her die. He was a Demon Hunter, but he wasn't cruel. He wouldn't sacrifice a human student for the sake of a test.
That meant if she showed no sign of using soul power, if she looked close to falling, he would stop the horse.
Two choices lay before her.
She could hold out, pretend her strength was gone, and let him intervene. Or... she could gamble everything.
The mare's stride jolted her hard enough to blur her vision again. She met Lon's gaze across the arena and shouted, voice breaking in the wind.
"Mr. Ramos —!"
Her cry carried raw fear, stripped of the composure she had worn all day. It cut through the roar of hooves and wind, hitting Lon like a blow.
He froze, then his expression shifted. Amelia was brilliant, proud, always in control. But now she was asking for helpand she was admitting she couldn't hold on.
His hand went to the talisman at his belt. He was ready to stop the horse.
But the moment came too late.
The mare's head snapped upward, muscles coiling, and it launched into a high, violent leap. The sunlight caught in its mane as it twisted midair. Amelia, who had held on for nearly five minutes, at last lost her grip.
The force threw her clear, body arcing through the air before slamming to the ground. The impact blanked her senses, pain radiating from her shoulder and back. She rolled across the dirt, momentum carrying her until she lay still.
The arena erupted in a single, collective gasp.
Lon's eyes widened, pupils contracting. For a heartbeat, he didn't move. Then he was running.