My Beloved Has Risen from Death’s Embrace

Today’s shoot was titled “Phoenix at the Races“, focusing on the nail–biting rivalry between two teams of jockeys and capturing Phoenix’s masterful strategies from an elevated platform. However, as Kevin admired the stunning scenery, he felt it was a shame not to showcase Phoenix’s grace. He turned to Xanthea with a proposal.

“Xan, I just got an idea. How about we add a scene where you ride out to greet the winning team? It’d highlight both Phoenix’s commanding presence and your leadership style, adding depth to your

character.”

“Uh,” Xanthea hesitated, meeting his expectant gaze, but eventually nodded, “Okay.”

She had learned horseback riding as a child but had fallen off once, nearly breaking a bone, which had since kept her away from horses.

But that was years ago, it should be fine; besides, the horses at the stables seemed gentle enough.

Kevin had a stunning white Orlov Trotter brought over. Xanthea stepped into the stirrups and settled into the saddle, the horse calmly accepting her without a fuss.

“Alright, three, two, one, action!”

Xanthea took the reins, gently urging the horse with her legs. Just as the Orlov Trotter began to move, a balloon tied to a nearby fence burst with a loud bang, startling the horse. It reared up, neighing loudly, and then took off like a shot.

“Ah!!!”

The sudden gallop terrified Xanthea, flashing her back to the time when she was thrown off by a crazy horse as she was young. She gripped the reins tightly, her face drained of color.

Behind her, the film crew was in shock, shouting, “The horse is spooked! Clear the way! Everyone, move!” “Phoenix is still on the horse! What do we do now? How do we handle this?”

As everyone was in panic, unaware of what to do, a tall figure swiftly mounted the Alpha Stallion, held the rein and chased after the frightened Orlov Trotter. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Ah!!”

In the vast prairie, the Orlov Trotter swooshed by, riderless and erratic, tossing Xanthea about, her clothes in disarray, trees whirling past her vision, the wind whooshing by her ears

Just as she seemed about to be thrown off, strong arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, pressing her shaky frame against a firm chest. A deep, soothing voice calmed her, “Xan, don’t be afraid.”

However, her panicked grip on the rein caused the Orlov Trotter to rear up dramatically, throwing both riders off.

Xanthea screamed, instinctively clinging to the man, flung from the galloping horse. Instead of the expected pain, she felt as though she had fallen into a forest beneath a snow–capped mountain, the snow tough yet soft, with a fat scent of pine.

Slowly lifting her head, she realized she had fallen on Orion?! She had landed on him, explaining the lack of pain,

“Orion, Orion, are you okay?!”

Panicked, she frantically checked him over.

Orion opened his eyes to see her blouse undone from the ride, revealing a deep cleavage, the alabaster breasts dazzling his eyes. Her frantic hands unintentionally caused him discomfort.

“I was fine, but if you keep touching like that, there might be an issue.”