Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 390

Karl

“Like your mother.”

Reginald’s words leave me somewhat taken aback. After all, how can I be like my mother if I’ve never even met her?

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head slightly, “but could you elaborate?”

Reginald chuckles and nods at the same time. “Let’s get Eva back in her stall first, and then we’ll talk,” he says, checking his watch. “I’m craving ice cream. Perhaps we could walk to town and meet Abby and her friend.”

I nod. Together, Reginald and I go through the process: taking the saddle and bridle off of the horse, brushing and cleaning her, giving her fresh water to quench her thirst after such an intense ride.

Neither of us talks as we work, but it’s strangely comforting. The smell of hay and grain fills my senses, coupled with the sounds of the other horses munching in their stalls. It’s almost meditative, in a way that I never expected.

“You know, I never thought I’d enjoy horses,” I say with a laugh as we walk out of the stable. “I’ve never had an interest in them.”

“But look at you now.” Reginald nudges me with his elbow. “Stealing my horse to go on a freedom run down the beach.”

My face flushes slightly red at his comment. “I was only borrowing her,” I retort. “But I am sorry. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude? Please,” Reginald replies coolly. “You’re my son, and you’ll take my place as king here someday. You’re welcome to whatever you wish for around here.”

As we walk, I can’t help but chew the inside of my cheek thoughtfully. King. It’s still a term that I’m not used to hearing, especially not when it’s directed at me. I don’t feel like royalty. And in this day and age, ‘king’ just feels like another term for ‘extremely wealthy’.

“Hey, uh… dad,” I say, still feeling a bit odd referring to this man as my father. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

I draw in a deep breath, pausing for a moment, before continuing. “Did you always… feel like royalty?”

Reginald looks over at me and blinks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe it’s all just so new to me, but it feels a bit…”

“Silly?” Reginald asks.

My face reddens even more, but I nod.

Reginald sighs. “It feels silly every day,” he says. “Karl, our ancestors built this place from the ground up; they ruled this land. Now, we’re really just figureheads with a lot of money. But it doesn’t mean that we don’t have an influence here.”

“How so?” I ask.

“Well, we may not hold all of the governing power anymore, but our actions and our opinions still sway the local government. What we do genuinely affects people.” He pauses again before continuing.

“That’s why my second wife was so hell-bent on getting Damon in the throne; not only money, but the ability to influence an entire country from behind the scenes. All it would take is a few years and a ‘king’ could easily turn into a real tyrant.”

I listen intently, nodding slowly. “Do you think Damon would have become a tyrant?” I ask.

“Damon is a fool,” Reginald says. “And fools make the biggest tyrants of all.”

We walk in silence for a few minutes, the breeze ruffling our hair. Soon, we make it to town, where the stucco buildings almost seem to absorb the sunset and turn various shades of orange.

“So tell me,” I finally say. “How I’m like… her. Like my mother.”

Reginald sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “She was wild,” he says with a wry chuckle. “She was an excellent queen, and always did what had to be done, but she hated this life. I think, sometimes, she would have been happiest just running up and down the beach.”

He pauses then, and looks at me. “She didn’t have a wolf, you know.”

“Really?” My eyes widen. “She didn’t?”

“No.” Reginald shakes his head. “That’s why she loved riding so much; she didn’t have the capability to shift and run at breakneck speeds.”

This information takes me completely by surprise. To think that my own mother, the queen of this place, didn’t have a wolf… “But you were fated mates,” I say, furrowing my brow. “I thought—”

“I knew she was my mate. She never got to experience it from her side. But she loved me all the same.”

There’s a long silence after that. I don’t know what to say; all I know is that right now, I wish I could talk to her. She sounds like an incredibly interesting person, and I almost feel cheated out of ever having known her, even though I know her death was out of anyone’s control.

“You know,” Reginald continues, “her horse was the mother of Eva. She was a wild horse, too; your mother saw her at auction and simply had to have her, even though the handlers couldn’t even keep her tame.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Oh, yes.” Reginald laughs. “She spent years training that horse. She started just by sitting on the pasture fence, calmly watching as the beast raced back and forth. Eventually, it came up to her, but kept a good distance between them.”

“She sounds very patient.”

“She was,” he affirms, nodding. “It took three years before she even sat on the horse, and another year after that before she wasn’t bucked off. But the day that she went on their first ride, and they tore up and down the beach at unparalleled speeds, she named her Zephyr.”

“Zephyr means ‘breeze’,” I muse. “Seems like a gentle name for a wild horse.”

“Yes. And Alessandra was a gentle name for a wild woman.”

We continue walking down the cobblestone streets in silence as I absorb everything Reginald has told me about my mother. I realize, then, that maybe that’s why I feel a connection to Eva, and to this place in general.

Because of her. And because of the stories that my father tells me about her—she never truly died, in that sense. Maybe that’s my fate, too; to be here, to keep passing down the stories.

But I still don’t know how Abby truly feels. She seems happy here, but I can’t deny the fact that I’ve wondered over recent weeks if we made the right decision.

“I hope Abby is happy here,” I suddenly blurt out to my father as we walk. “I love it here, but I can’t help but wonder if…”

“If you made the right choice?” Reginald finishes for me.

I nod. But then, the further we walk toward Abby’s new restaurant, the sound of laughter and childlike squealing fills my ears. Eventually, we round a corner and stop in our tracks.

Up ahead, Abby is playing a game of soccer with some kids and Leah. They’re all laughing and out of breath, and at this moment, I know that Abby is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

She looks my way as the light of the setting sun hits her cheek, her golden hair billowing out around her. Time seems to stop, only for a moment, but that moment feels eternal. I’m only pulled back to the present by the feeling of my father’s elbow nudging me.

“I think you have your answer,” he says.