[For Dyson] love's horse will carry you home

As evening fell over the Beara Peninsula, Ireland, Regina dismounted the gorgeous, dapple grey Irish hunter she'd spent the better part of three days riding. She ran the stirrups up on the saddle, loosened the girth, and then lifted the reins over the mare's head.

While she walked the mare, she pulled out her cell-phone. It had been three days since she had spoken to Dyson, although she'd caught sight of his wolf a few times, and she missed him. She sent a quick text to let him know she was back.

At the stables. Need a bath, but then I'm all yours.