The Three Who Chose Me
Chapter 38: A Storm in the Saddle

Chapter 38: A Storm in the Saddle

Josie

The rain started early.

Thick, heavy drops that slanted from the sky like tiny needles, soaking the ground before anyone could even consider whether the day was worth stepping outside for. And yet, there I was, standing beside the stables, completely drenched and glaring at my three mates like they were the dumbest alphas on the planet.

Which, at that moment, they absolutely were.

"Are you seriously going horse riding in this?" I asked, arms folded tightly around myself.

Thorne just adjusted the strap of his saddle and grunted like I wasn’t even speaking. Varen gave me one of his usual charming smirks, the kind that would make my knees weak if I wasn’t already shivering from the cold. Kiel didn’t even bother with a response—he just climbed onto his horse with the ease of someone who didn’t have the sense God gave a flea.

"Josie, it’s just a bit of rain," Varen said, as if I hadn’t been staring at the storm clouds for the past hour. "We’ll be fine."

"You’re not the one who nearly died falling off a horse," I snapped, my voice tight with a panic I was trying very hard not to show. "Or have you all forgotten that?"

"Don’t be dramatic," Kiel muttered under his breath.

I stiffened, the words slicing through me sharper than they should have. I wasn’t being dramatic. I was being honest. Terrified, yes—but not irrational. But of course, no one wanted to hear that. Not from an omega. Especially not one like me.

They had brought others along too—some pack members I didn’t recognize, chattering and laughing under their hoods. One of them held out a helmet toward me with an encouraging smile. I didn’t take it. My legs felt like they were filled with lead.

Then someone—probably Varen—tugged me toward the same horse that had nearly tossed me to my death last time. I stared at the creature, its dark eyes reflecting something wild, and I couldn’t breathe.

My stomach clenched painfully.

No. Not again.

My hands trembled as they were guided to the reins, my legs nearly buckling as I was hoisted up. The saddle felt too high, too slippery. My heart thundered wildly, and no matter how I tried to steady my breathing, it was useless.

"Josie," Varen said, his voice low and close. He had pulled his horse beside mine. "Look at me."

I did, barely.

His hand found mine and squeezed. "You’re safe, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you."

His voice was soft, grounding. I held onto it like a lifeline, letting his presence calm the storm brewing inside of me. For a brief moment, I let my guard down. I believed him.

The journey began.

We moved slowly through the trees, our horses trailing along the muddy path. Raindrops hit the leaves in a rhythm that should’ve been calming but only made me more tense. The horse beneath me shifted, its muscles bunching and relaxing with every step, and I felt every movement like a threat.

I tried to focus on Varen’s nearness. His horse walked just beside mine, and I could feel his presence like a shield.

But then it happened.

A misstep. A dip in the trail. My horse’s hoof slipped.

And everything shattered.

The next thing I knew, I was tilting—falling—screaming. My arms flailed, the world spun—

And then I was in Varen’s arms, on his horse, my legs draped awkwardly across his lap.

He’d caught me. Pulled me up at the last second.

"Breathe, Josie," he whispered against my hair, his lips brushing my temple. "Breathe, baby, I’ve got you."

I sobbed, clutching onto him, my face buried in his chest. My heart was racing too fast. My body trembled from head to toe.

He kissed my forehead gently. "You’re alright. I’ve got you. I won’t let go."

But then... I felt it.

Eyes.

Judgment.

I turned my head and saw them.

Michelle—her face twisted with something between envy and disgust. Kiel—staring with narrowed eyes, lips pressed into a thin line. Thorne—expression unreadable, his gaze sliding past me like I wasn’t even there.

That hurt more than the fall.

I blinked quickly, trying to hide the tears that burned the edges of my vision.

"I want to go home," I murmured to Varen.

He hesitated. "We’re already out here, Josie. Just a little longer—"

"No," I snapped, louder than I meant to. "I want to go home."

The others turned to look, their faces drawn with curiosity and confusion.

"Josie—" he began.

"Don’t," I warned, voice shaking. "Don’t try to convince me."

He went quiet.

And then, I did something stupid.

I tried to get down.

"No!" Varen shouted, gripping me tightly as I started to swing a leg over. "What are you doing?!"

"I don’t want to be here!" I screamed.

Kiel’s voice cut through the rain. "Put yourself first, Josie! Damn it—stop trying to please everyone!"

But his words didn’t reach me. Not fully. I was panicking. Shaking. Crumbling.

"Stop the horse," I begged, my voice barely a whisper now. "Please, Varen. Just stop."

He finally did.

"I’ll take you back," he said softly.

"No," I said quickly. "I’ll walk."

"Josie—"

"I said I’ll walk!"

Before he could stop me, I was on the ground, my boots hitting the wet earth with a sickening squish. Mud splashed up my legs, the rain plastering my hair to my face, but I didn’t care. I ran.

I didn’t look back.

I just kept running.

It took forever. The forest blurred around me, my feet aching, my breathing shallow and tight. But I didn’t stop until I saw the pack house porch.

That’s when I collapsed onto the steps.

And I cried.

Not just quiet tears—loud, ugly sobs that tore from my throat like thunder. I curled in on myself, clutching my arms, trying to breathe through the pain.

I didn’t know how long I was there before someone touched my shoulder.

"Josie," a soft voice whispered. "Oh, honey..."

I looked up to see Marcy.

She knelt beside me without a word and wrapped me in her arms, rocking me gently like I was a child again. My tears soaked her shirt, but she didn’t pull away. She just held me, her presence steady and warm.

"I messed everything up," I choked out. "I—I’m always the problem."

Marcy pulled back slightly, brushing my hair away from my face.

"I shouldn’t love them all," I whispered. "I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t feel like this for three of them."

I looked at her then, my lips trembling, waiting.

Waiting for her to tell me I was wrong.

But Marcy said nothing.