When the buzzer blared, Ryder loosened his grip in mid-spin and let the bull sling him into the dirt. He hit hard, rolled once, twice, before coming up to his feet in a shower of dust. A bullfighter cut across the animal’s path, turning its fury toward himself as the beast thundered through the gate, hide slick with sweat.
For a beat, Ryder heard nothing but the thunder of his own heart. Then the crowd’s roar swelled back into his bones—a wall of sound, applause and boot-stomping echoing through the steel rafters. He tugged loose the strap of his helmet and lifted it, dark hair clinging damp to his forehead. His eyes swept the edge of the arena, searching, until they found her. Isobel. Standing beside Wren at the gate, her face pale but shining.
Ryder dropped to one knee right there in t
