Shadows Across the Ocean

While Raven is miles away, whispers of doubt take root at home—threatening everything she’s built.

The Auction - Imagined by the Author, Created with ChapGPT

The auction grounds buzzed with quiet intensity, the kind of energy that came from money about to change hands. Rows of pristine horses stood in the holding pens, their coats gleaming under the overhead lights, buyers murmuring as they assessed bloodlines and potential.

Ben hadn’t planned to be here today. He hadn’t even known about the event until a passing comment at the feed store tipped him off—an invitation-only showcase, orchestrated by Whitman. Not that it surprised him. The man had been making moves, leveraging his campaign to weave himself deeper into the community. Ben wondered what he was planning.

Sam spotted Ben first, stepping away from a knot of trainers and ranch owners gathered near the competition ring. “Figured you’d show up,” Sam muttered, nodding toward the paddock where a sleek bay gelding was being led through an obstacle course. “Whitman’s been working the crowd all morning.”

Ben glanced around, taking in the clusters of familiar faces—breeders, trainers, potential clients. People who, until recently, had been eager to work with Raven.

“What’s he up to?” Ben asked, his voice low.

Sam exhaled sharply. “Nothing direct. Just planting seeds. Little comments here and there. Stuff like, ‘I’ve heard some concerns about her methods—might not be as safe as they seem.’ Then he shifts the conversation, makes it seem like he’s just looking out for the community. It’s slick, Ben. Real slick.”

Ben’s jaw tightened. Whitman wasn’t reckless—he was calculated. If he was spreading doubt, it was because he had a strategy. And if he was doing it here, it meant he thought he had an audience willing to listen.

Up in the shaded VIP section, Whitman was holding court, leaning in just enough to make his words feel conspiratorial, his expression all careful concern. Ben couldn’t hear the exact words, but he saw the effect—subtle nods, murmured responses, thoughtful pauses. The kind of conversation that lingered long after the event ended.

And then there was Shikáni.

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