by Nicole René
Xavier’s hand shot up, grasping her jaw, effectively stopping her lips from touching his.
“Why are you doing this?” he growled, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Never have you asked for my touch, yet now you are, two days in a row.” When his question was not met right away, he squeezed her jaw harder.
Leawyn closed her eyes against the pain, gripping his hand with hers.
“Xavier...” she pleaded softly.
“Why?” he growled, making her wince. “Tell me!”
“Because I’m tired of feeling empty!” she cried out, glaring at him defiantly as her eyes glistened with unshed tears of sorrow and pain.
Xavier stilled, his grip going slack. She jerked her head away from him, and he quickly grabbed a fistful of her hair at the nape of her neck to still her.
“Do you want me?” he asked, voice low.
Leawyn closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. On her exhale, she opened her eyes. “I shouldn’t, but...yes,” she whispered. “I want you.”
Xavier used the grip he had on her hair and tugged downward, making her head tilt back and exposing her neck. He brushed his lips against her silky skin, his tongue tasting her. Her breath hiccupped, shuddering when his breath cooled her heated skin.
“How?” His tongue flicked against her throat again. “Slowly? You want me to—” Xavier’s lip trailed up to the underside of her ear. “Make love to you?” His eyes matched his mocking tone when he pulled away to meet hers.
“No,” Leawyn whispered, reaching up and watching her fingers as she traced one of the scars on his face. “No,” she said again, her head giving a small shake as she brushed her thumb against his lips, pausing to meet his eyes once again. “I imagine you’re not capable of love.” She pushed his face away roughly. Xavier narrowed his eyes as they flashed darkly. He smirked for the briefest second before his lips grew still.
Using his knee, he quickly thrust it upwards, throwing her off balance. She let out a quick gasp of surprise before her chest collided with his. Using his grip on her hair, which tightened to bruising force as he pulled her even closer against him, he stilled her meager struggles to put space between them. Xavier grasped her jaw with his fingers, looking her straight in her eyes.
“Do you still hate me?” His voice was a deep timbre as he asked the heavy question.
The tension thickened as they stared at each other, engaged in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Every unsaid word was spoken through their eyes.
“Yes,” Leawyn hissed in his face, her eyes burning. “I still hate you.”
Xavier closed his eyes at her confession. Leaning forward, he buried his nose into her hair and inhaled her sweet scent.
“I don’t care,” he said bluntly. “You will never escape me, Leawyn. You’re mine, forever.” He breathed the words into her ear, nuzzling her cheek before pulling back.
Leawyn’s breath blew harshly out of her nose. It was the calm before the storm.
Quick as a snake, she lashed out, grabbing hold of his lip with her teeth and pulling as her nails dug into his scalp. Xavier grunted in pain and quickly flipped her over onto her stomach, jerking her hips up. He grabbed hold of both of her hands with one of his and placed them high above her head.
Leawyn struggled with all her might before gasping when Xavier attacked her neck with his lips. His other hand bunched the material of her dress and dragged it upwards. As he tilted her neck to give himself better access, he gave a sharp, quick thrust of his pelvis, and she groaned when the feel of him filled her from behind.
The storm masked the sounds of their pleasure.
“Once the Rhoxolani join, we’ll have all the tribes at our side so we can officially plan our attack and get rid of this nuisance of an army once and for all.”
“Hear, hear!” Tyronian approved, slamming his fist down on the wooden table, causing the candles to rattle.
Tristan shot an amused look at Tyronian.
“When will we leave?” Tristan asked.
“You will stay, brother. Tyronian will go with me.”
Tyronian’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he glanced between Tristan and Xavier. He used the sudden tension that filled the room as his cue to leave.
“I shall prepare, then.” Tyronian pushed himself from the table and exited the tent quickly.
Xavier leaned back in his chair with his right arm stretched out on the table in a relaxed manner. He studied Tristan, who outwardly looked calm. Xavier knew he was anything but.
“You will have our cousin go with you, but not me? Why?”
“You are needed here.”
Xavier met Tristan’s eyes calmly when Tristan slammed his hand flat on the table in a quick moment of anger. His brother braced his hands on the table and leaned forward into Xavier’s space. “You’re lying,” Tristan accused through clenched teeth.
Xavier’s eyes flashed with fire before he flew out of his seat, grabbing hold of Tristan’s neck and shoving him down so his cheek pressed against the wood.
“You disobey me!” Xavier bellowed. “You want what is mine, always!”
Tristan struggled against his hand, but Xavier held firm, digging his elbow between Tristan’s shoulder blades. “You don’t think I see the way you look at her?” he seethed, jerking Tristan up roughly and throwing him away from him. “You will never have what I have, Tristan. Ever.”
“What exactly do you think you have?” Tristan yelled back furiously, stalking back to Xavier until they were nose to nose. “You have nothing! She feels nothing for you!”
Xavier shoved Tristan out of his space. “And she feels for you?”
“She feels more for me than she ever will you! I don’t treat her like my slave! I do not force myself on her as you do.” Tristan glared down at him in disgust. “If it weren’t for me, she would have escaped you the night you left to scout. She wouldn’t have been able to save you, and she wouldn’t have lost the baby because you were too weak to protect her in the first place.”
Xavier eyes turned cold, and before Tristan could protect himself, he pulled back his arm and punched Tristan in the jaw, blood instantly spurting from his mouth. Tristan went flying back until he crashed down to the floor.
Xavier stood staring down at his groaning brother, his breaths coming out of him in big pants through his nose. He clenched his fists tightly with the effort it took to hold him back from attacking his brother again.
Tristan pushed himself up with one hand, standing unsteadily as he wiped the blood from under his lip. He chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head.
“She’s going to destroy you,” Tristan panted, looking up at Xavier. “And you will fall, in every way. But she will never want you the way you want her.”
Tristan slowly walked by him, pausing when he was halfway out of the tent. “She will never love you,” he promised quietly.
He waited until Tristan was gone before he flipped over the table, screaming with his rage.
Deydrey was going into season. It was the only way to explain her attitude.
“We have to make sure she stays away from the males. Especially Killix.”
Namoriee grinned at that, which caused Leawyn to glower at her.
“I don’t know why you’re smiling. I’m serious,” Leawyn grumbled, pulling her hand away from Deydrey’s stomach and quickly stepping back when the mare raised her hind leg as if to kick her.
“Oh, I think it would be quite exciting if Killix was the sire,” Namoriee said as she led Deydrey behind her while they walked. Her enthusiasm was as contagious as the big smile that lit her face.
Leawyn could clearly see why Tyronian was so smitten with the sixteen-year-old. She was beautiful, and good, but with just enough defiance to keep Tyronian from completely controlling her. Leawyn smirked at the thought. It was mean, but she couldn’t wait until Tyronian tried to claim Namoriee. She almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
“Right. Just what we need, another Killix,” Leawyn scoffed, d
odging Garnette’s small body as she ran past them, Castic quick on her heels, yelling after her as Garnette laughed.
Namoriee grinned at her lady chief. “Maybe it will take after Deydrey.”
They both stopped, watching as Killix pranced around with his rope halter in his mouth, taunting the stable boy as he rushed to try and get it back.
They both turned and looked at each other simultaneously.
“It better,” Leawyn deadpanned. “We’ll have to separate them, I think.”
Namoriee nodded in agreement. “I’ll put her in the front pasture, the one behind your hut, so it will be easier to keep an eye on her, if that pleases you?”
Leawyn smiled. “Namoriee, how many times have I told you? Yes, I am your lady chief, but I am also your friend. No need to sound so formal.” She smiled wider at the blush that quickly covered Namoriee’s cheeks. “You go ahead and put Deydrey in while I go and try to find Xavier so he knows where Killix is.”
“Yes, Lady Chief,” Namoriee mumbled, still embarrassed as she quickly led Deydrey away.
Leawyn laughed quietly under her breath as she walked in the opposite direction to find Xavier.
“Your stupid horse is going to get my mare pregnant.”
Xavier paused in tying his sword strap to his waist and raised his scarred eyebrow, the only sign he allowed to show his amusement at Leawyn’s aggravated proclamation as she threw herself down on their bed.
He continued getting dressed. “How do you know it will be my stupid horse?”
Leawyn slapped her hands down on the pallets and lifted herself up, giving him an unimpressed look before flopping back down. Xavier chuckled.
Giving his scabbard one final jerk, he made his way to his wife, leaning his massive body against the table by their bed and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Are you certain she’s in season?” Even before he finished asking, Leawyn was nodding.
“She’s moody, she’s winking, and Killix won’t leave her alone.” She paused, grinning. “Well, more than usual, at least,” she added.
Xavier smirked, but his face quickly sobered as he studied her. She was still as beautiful as the moment he laid eyes on her, but everyday it was as if her beauty enhanced. No longer did she wear her tribe’s clothing, and instead covered herself in the usual Izayges female garb. Her long hair was pulled high away from her face, tied by a small leather strip.
Xavier found he didn’t like it.
Without fully realizing his body was in motion, he strode over to her, snagged her wrists, and pulled her to her feet until she was flush against his chest—all in one swift move.
He ignored the flinch she gave when he raised his hand to her cheek. He stroked the soft skin there before his hands tangled in her hair and pulled, releasing the leather strip. Her sun-kissed curls tumbled down her back and over her shoulders, creating a halo around her face.
His wife closed her eyes, taking a breath as he ran his fingers through the strands. She moved so their stance was reversed. He shifted when she leaned her weight forward until his lips brushed hers. She kept pressing forward, following his body as his back met their bed.
With a sharp nip from him on her bottom lip, Leawyn opened her mouth for him. She let out a soft moan when his tongue brushed against hers. Pulling away from her, Xavier leaned up and pulled the strap of the scabbard he had just put on, throwing it away from him carelessly. The swords made a clang when they landed on the floor. He tugged her to him again.
Leawyn met him halfway and started a trail of kisses from his ear to his neck. Xavier felt his body shudder in response, which seemed to encourage her as she brushed her fingers over the buttons of his tunic, popping them open one by one. She pushed it completely off his shoulders until it came free, her fingers moving to his breeches.
“You’re getting bold, little girl.” There was a slight growl in his voice, but his body was responding to her hesitant touches.
“You seem to enjoy it,” Leawyn whispered against his lips before pressing hers against his again, taking them.
He traced his calloused fingers up her back, his nails scratching against her soft skin until he stopped at her neck.
Suddenly, he dug his hand into her hair and pulled back sharply. She let out a whimper and looked up at him. His eyes bore into hers seriously, but he felt a smirk tugging on his lips.
“You forget who’s in charge, Leawyn.”
“I didn’t—”
“You have. But I’m going to make damn sure that you don’t again.”
So, he did.
Leawyn was silent, but Xavier found he didn’t mind. He ran his fingers through her hair and down her back, stopping, and then repeating the process.
Leawyn was lax and sweet against him, and it caused a tug against his rib cage that he ignored. He could feel her about to slip into a relaxed sleep when he broke the silence.
“I am leaving again, to visit another tribe. I should be back in a week’s time.”
“A week?” she replied, brow furrowing. “But the only tribe that far away is—”
He felt her tense, and he tightened the grip he had on her hair to still her when she tried to raise herself up to look at him.
“You’re staying here.”
It was a command.
He felt her tears against his skin. It caused that uncomfortable feeling to tug at his chest again.
“Xavier, please,” she begged softly, her tears causing her voice to crack. “Let me go with you.”
“No.” He untangled his hand and pushed himself off the bed to get dressed again. He stiffened when he felt her small hand grab his wrist, clutching it tightly. Slowly, he turned his head to glare down at her. She was on her knees, her hair over her right shoulder, leaving her naked left breast exposed to his eyes.
“It’s my home. I haven’t seen anyone—” She stopped, swallowing and collecting herself. “Please, Xavier. I’m begging you.”
He tugged himself from her weak grasp. He bent and grabbed her neck, lifting her off the bed and towering over her. He squeezed his fingers around her neck slowly, giving just enough pressure to make it uncomfortable, but not enough to make it painful. Yet.
“This,” Xavier furiously hissed down at her, “is your home.” He squeezed harder, and her hand flew up to grab his wrist, tugging it weakly. “I’m your home.” With a sneer, he shoved her away from him.
“Rhoxolani is not your home. Not anymore.”
Xavier turned away from her and resumed dressing. He was buckling his sword to his hip again, when she spoke softly.
“I’ll do anything.”
He slowly turned his head to look at her. She met his eyes bravely, resolutely, despite the tears coursing down both her cheeks and chin.
“What?” Xavier asked, his voice low. He turned around to give her his full attention.
“I’ll do anything,” she said again, flinching when he stalked back to her slowly, like a predator.
“Say it again,” he ordered, looking down at her.
“I’ll do anything,” she repeated, her voice firmer. “I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just let me go with you. Let me go ho—” She cut herself off, and he narrowed his eyes at her. Swallowing nervously, she tried again. “Let me go with you, to my old tribe. Take me with you, please, Husband.”
Xavier was silent as he studied her. He tilted her chin up with his thumb. “Why? You have nothing left there.”
Leawyn’s lip trembled, but she didn’t try and correct him. “I would like to see the sea again,” she whispered. “I miss the smell of the ocean, of the seagulls squawking, and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs.”
Xavier kept his narrowed eyes on her own, trying to find untruth in her words.
“Is that all?” he asked, his voice a suspicious growl. Leawyn nodded as much as she could against his grip. “Yes! That’s all. I swear.”
Trying a different tactic to convince him, she leaned forward and kissed his chin. She placed h
er hand on his chest, stroking it soothingly. “I promise I won’t try to leave you. I only want to see the ocean. Maybe my old handmaiden, she was like a mother to me. See my father again...” she trailed off.
Xavier continued his silence, knowing what she was trying to do. But her desperation and willingness pleased him, and he could use it to his advantage. Decided, he grabbed her hair again and tugged it downward until her neck was arched and she was looking up into his dark eyes once more.
“You will stop fighting me,” he told her. “You will do whatever I say, whenever I say it. You will stay by my side, always.” Her eyes widened, both in shock and excitement, and she quickly agreed.
Xavier smirked, trailing his finger down her cheek. “I’m not done.”
Leawyn paused uncertainly. “When we get back, you will give me a baby.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, and her body started to tremble.
“You will get my mark,” he trailed his hand down her body, watching its descent until it stopped on her hip, “right here.” Xavier stared at his fingers splayed over her naked hip. “And it will be the old, traditional way.”
He felt Leawyn shudder, and she closed her eyes, presumably to hide her dread from him. The marking ceremony was very uncommon to most of the tribes and rarely used. It took place in front of all the men of the tribe to witness the mark being placed, to make it known the woman was forever owned.
The mark itself was a tattoo of the husband’s family symbol. Taking pleasure in a marked woman’s body, without the husband’s permission, was punishable by death. Death to both the offending lover...and the wife.
Using ink to tattoo the symbol on the skin was the new way; the old way was much more barbaric, and much more painful. It resembled the way a horse would be marked. A heated iron wrought with the desired symbol was burned onto the skin, etching the brand and leaving a permanent scar of the symbol.
It had stopped being the common practice more than a hundred moons ago.
Either way, the fire branding was stronger than marriage and the tattoo. For even if a branded woman’s husband were to die in battle, she could never marry or lay with another man again.