Chapter 1

The last thing I saw was Maverick' s powerful hooves coming down on me.

The last thing I heard was his soft nicker, not for me, but for my half-sister, Charlotte, who watched from the side with a smug smile.

I had saved that stallion. I nursed him back from a deadly sickness with a family remedy that nearly killed me.

And he chose her. He chose the prestige, the fame, the better shot at the Triple Crown that Charlotte represented.

Then, darkness.

I woke up with a gasp, the thick, sweet scent of magnolias filling my lungs.

The buzz of the Southern elite, their polite chatter and clinking glasses, was a familiar sound.

I was back.

I was back at the Claiming Ceremony, the day my life fell apart.

Before I could even process the second chance, it happened again, just like before.

Maverick, the magnificent champion I had raised, let out a sharp cry. He reared dramatically, his powerful body a silhouette against the afternoon sun.

Then, he trotted directly to Charlotte. He lowered his head in a clear show of submission, nudging her hand.

He had publicly rejected me.

A wave of shocked whispers went through the crowd. He was my horse, bonded to me since he was a foal. Everyone knew it.

My father, Richard, stepped forward. He placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip tight and warning.

"Eliza," he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Charlotte has a special connection with him. You see it."

He feigned a look of fatherly concern.

"You're the older sister. Let her have him. It' s for the good of the family's reputation."

His words were poison, disguised as a noble sacrifice.

Maverick's jockey, a man whose career I had helped build, sneered from beside Charlotte.

"A champion horse needs a champion rider. Maverick knows that."

Charlotte' s friends chimed in, their voices dripping with fake sympathy.

"Eliza was never strong enough for a horse like him."

"It' s for the best. She would have held him back."

The humiliation was a physical weight, pressing down on me. In my first life, I had cried. I had pleaded.

This time, I felt nothing but cold resolve.

My father, seeing my silence as weakness, pushed his advantage.

"To be fair," he announced, "Eliza won't leave empty-handed. She can have the other colt."

He gestured toward a small, isolated pen.

Inside, a dark colt lay listlessly on the straw. Ash.

His bloodline was a legend, but he was considered a failure. Charlotte had tried to "awaken" him for weeks, and he hadn't even stood up. He was a dud.

A worthless horse in exchange for a future Triple Crown winner. The "fair" exchange.

The crowd murmured, a mix of pity and contempt. They saw a broken girl being cast aside.

I looked at my father, at my triumphant sister, and at the horse who had betrayed me.

Then I turned and walked toward the small pen.

"Fine," I said, my voice clear and steady.

To everyone's shock, I agreed.

I reached the pen and knelt beside the dark colt. As my hand touched his neck, I felt it.

A faint, familiar warmth. A deep, thrumming connection that vibrated from him to me.

It was my mother's gift. Her legacy.

In that instant, I knew. The colts had been switched at birth. This was the horse my mother had left for me. Ash was my true inheritance.

Charlotte, desperate to seal her victory, couldn't let the moment pass.

"Let's perform the bonding ritual now," she declared, her voice ringing with arrogance. "So everyone can see the true bond between a rider and her horse."

I stood up, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"I agree."