Loser. •Part One•


Standing on the stage in a deep purple gown and a beautiful gold tiara, Stella looks out at awaiting faces. She is about to give her acceptance speech to Hightail Academy, the most prestigious riding academy in all of England. Her father, the duke, has just introduced her.

She puts a smile on her face, a bright look in her eyes. She has wanted to go to this academy since she was negative nine months old.

Despite the smile, there lingers a feeling of guilt. Betrayal.

She shoves those feelings down.

Deep down.

Too deep to ever reach again.


The love of his life stood on the stage in the elegant ballroom.

The ballroom wasn’t the only thing that looked elegant.

Stella did.

Zane had just finished his first year at Hightail Academy, and the whole time all he could think about was Stella. Waiting for her to be old enough to join him. He was confident she would get accepted.

Hightail had been their dream since they were kids. They wanted to come here and learn how to be the best they could be. They wanted to be legends. They still did.

Stella had grown up as royalty. As the daughter of the duke, she was taught how to be a proper young lady. How to drink tea. Correct manners. Yet her personality did not fit that label.

Zane was the opposite of royalty.

He grew up hauling bales of hay and scooping horse poop. Learning how to treat sick animals and plants.

They were the most unlikely friends ever.

Neither of them ever thought they would end up here.

Stella was expected to be a proper young lady. To find a handsome and charming young prince (preferably rich) and run off with him to another country.

But Stella wanted to become a professional horse racer, like Zane. That was how they had met.

Zane had loved Stella all his life. She was smart and brave and talented. Not to mention her stunning beauty and grace. When he was sad, she always knew what to say.

She was FUN. She had the greatest laugh in the world, and when she smiled, Zane’s heart swelled.

He could never imagine her leaving him.

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