by Nicole René
Her expression turned sad, and it pained him. His father might have been strict with him, but he was downright overbearing when it came to Lévaunia. Once it became apparent that she was going to be more beautiful than his mother, with her raven hair, flawless complexion, and sparkling cobalt eyes, their father changed. All the sudden, Lévaunia stopped coming to visit them. His father was protective, as they all were, but…there were days when he felt like his father treated his sister more like a prisoner than a daughter.
But for whatever reason, his sister didn’t see it that way. So, he kept his mouth shut, because you’d have to be blind to not notice the amount of love she had for their father, and he for her.
Not that it was saying much; Lévaunia was a lot like their mother in the way that it was impossible not to love her. He didn’t think his baby sister had a mean bone in her tiny five-foot-two body.
“I’ll go find them. Besides, I’m worried if I don’t soon, the twins will find some unique way to punish me,” Lévaunia laughed. She gave him one last squeeze, going up on her tiptoes to give his cheek a kiss—he still had to bend his body at the waist for her to reach— before pulling away from him to do as she said.
He waited until she was out of earshot to turn to Viktorious.
“So, you going to tell me what that was abou—”
Xillik’s mouth slammed shut with irritation. Viktorious was gone—an annoying habit Viktorious had learned from his father Tristan—and he knew that his minx of a sister was to blame.
Lévaunia had distracted him long enough so that Vik could slink away, knowing he would interrogate their cousin as soon as she left.
“Damn it.”
“No,” Xavier gritted. “Absolutely not.”
Leawyn sighed, setting her brush down and turning in her seat to look at him.
“Why not?”
“Because, she’s sixteen Leawyn. She’s not old enough.”
She raised a brow. “That’s what you’re leading with? Really?”
Her husband for many decades scowled at her. “The answer is no.”
Leawyn rolled her eyes, turning her back to him and continued to brush her hair.
“Lévaunia hasn’t spent nearly enough time with her brothers as she should have. You’ve kept her locked away like a sea monster guarding his treasure. Well, she’s not some possession—she’s your daughter. She deserves to be with her family.”
“We are her family,” he pointed out grumpily.
Leawyn slammed the brush down and shot to her feet, whirling around to face him. She was inwardly smug at her husband’s wince when she did so.
“They are her brothers. You just sold her off to be married on her eighteenth winter, to a different tribe, where I know more than anyone means that she will not be able to come and go as she pleases to visit her family. She deserves some freedom, Xavier!”
“She is free!” he yelled.
“No, she is not!” she shouted back. Xavier’s gaze narrowed, leveling her with a look that that had long since lost its effectiveness with her.
“You need to let her go, Xavier. You need to understand.”
“She isn’t unhappy,” he said, frustrated. “She agreed.”
“Xavier,” Leawyn sighed sadly. She moved to him, cupping his aged cheek with her hand, playing with the fine gray hairs there.
“She loves you. She might have agreed, but don’t for one instant believe that you didn’t just crush her whole world the moment you traded her freedom from your will, to his.”
Xavier closed his eyes, pained. He pressed his forehead to hers.
“I just want her to be as protected as she possibly could be. This is the only way I know how.”
“I know you believe that,” she whispered sadly. She closed her eyes, too, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
Xavier gripped her cheek, keeping her from pulling away by deepening the kiss. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her up against him as he walked them backwards. Their lips only left each other’s long enough to pull their clothes away from their bodies. He lowered her down, his body quickly following.
“Xavier,” Leawyn breathed in pleasure when he slid into her waiting warmth slowly. He peppered kisses on her cheek, her neck, while his hips started a slow rhythm. Pumping inside of her with slow, unhurried strokes. No matter how many times he’s taken her over the years, it always felt like the first time.
His need was never sated for her, and hers for him. It was never enough for them, no matter how many times they had made love with each other over the years of their marriage.
“Say it,” he panted against her damp skin, nipping the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Her nails raked down his back until they gripped his toned ass, pulling him in closer. Needing him closer. He picked up his pace, holding her tightly in his arms.
“Say it, Leawyn.”
“I love you,” she gasped, arching her neck in ecstasy. “I will always love, Xavier.”
“I’ll find you, even in death,” he whispered into her ear, choked with emotion.
Leawyn sobbed, clutching him to her as she climaxed, bringing him with her.
The next morning, before they left to return home, they told their sons and daughter that Lévaunia would live with them until her eighteenth winter.
Xavier didn’t feel the need to tell them about her betrothal, and she didn’t feel the need to remind him.
Because she had a hunch he did that purposely.
The sun was setting, bringing a chill in the breeze that Leawyn didn’t feel, even as it caressed her skin and hair. Everything within her was numb. Her sons, Xillik, Ryder, Rhoxon, and Hunter surrounded her, standing close. Xillik on her right, Hunter beside him, with the twins behind her. Her youngest was on her left, clutching her hand tightly. She could feel the tremors wracking her daughter’s small frame as she tried to quell her crying, but she couldn’t bring herself to comfort her.
She couldn’t bring herself to do anything but watch through dead eyes as Tyronian and Tristan stepped forward. Their expressions were etched in grief as, together, they gave the boat that was on shore a shove, trudging through the waves and sending it away.
Her eyes never left it, even as Xillik turned to her.
“You should do it,” he whispered roughly.
She looked up at him slowly. His eyes, so much like his father’s, glistened with the promise of tears he refused to shed, but his face was otherwise expressionless. Her boy was strong. Not because he wanted to be, but because he knew he needed to be. She smiled sadly, resting her withered hand upon his cheek, while the other grasped what he offered. His eyes closed, accepting her silent comfort, and his moment of what he thought was weakness. When they opened again, the emotion in them from before was gone.
Warrior eyes.
With a nod, he stepped back, and resumed his place among his siblings. She stepped forward, notching an arrow as she went and dipped it in the fire, making sure it soaked the oil. Her hands, though old and weaker than in her youth, didn’t shake when she pulled the bowstring back.
The fire made a flickering sound when the arrow released, and it took mere moments for it to land. It created a small flame within the boat.
There was a moment of silence, then the sky lit up with the valley of flame-tipped arrows that flew overhead, hundreds of them following the path that hers did before.
Wordlessly, she watched as the boat carrying her husband’s body engulfed in flames; burning away his flesh, and with it…her heart.
Everyone had left.
His father might not have been the most compassionate man, but he was respected greatly. It seemed that half the villages of the other tribes showed up to his funeral. His family had stood with him. All his uncles, and cousins, and siblings, Torrick and Alissowyn and their children, Kade and his wife.
Everyone was there.
They had stayed long after the sun set, but slowly, the crowd began to disperse until only his kin had stayed with him, but they, to
o, began to leave. His uncle Tristan being the last. He clapped his shoulder, red-rimmed eyes meeting his. No words were spoken between them, because they didn’t need to. He knew.
Take care of her, his uncle’s eyes had said. She needs you now.
Xillik stared at his mother’s back, who was standing in the same position she was in after she shot the first arrow. Usually, it was the eldest son who would shoot the first ceremonial arrow for the fallen warrior chief. But, his family was never one to follow traditions, and it would be foolish of him to start now.
Everyone knew that the rightful honor belonged to his mother.
His mother, who’s grief was more potent than his own. He studied her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. His mother’s beauty was a thing of legend, something that never diminished. But now, he was starting to notice things that had been there from the beginning, but that he was too ignorant to see.
She had always been small, tiny even. But now as he looked upon her, she seemed frail. Breakable. Her hair was long and floated in the wind, the gusts blowing the strands that were once bright blonde, but now a dull white. Her spine, which had always stood tall, and proud, was now bent; folded over in age and despair.
He hated it…but he expected it.
When word was sent that his father was fading, he had rushed to his side. But by the time he got there, his mother was clutching his body and sobbing.
He was too late.
He had been sick for months, Namoriee had told him.
His parents never said a word.
It all happened in a blur after that, and now here he stood. On a beach staring after a woman who stared after a boat that had long since burned away.
He sighed quietly, giving himself a moment to compose himself and gather strength for what he would have to do, before he moved.
“Mother,” he said softly, grabbing her hand. “It’s time to go back home.”
It was like she didn’t even hear him.
“Mother,” he pleaded. Squeezing her hand in his. “Let me take you home now.”
She ignored him, and just when he thought he would have to forcibly carry her away, she showed the first sign of life by speaking.
“He was my home, Xillik,” she said, the words dripped with sorrow so profound it made his eyes sting.
She didn’t say anything else, just turned and allowed him to escort her back to her room.
It was silent between them, even after he helped relieve her of her shoes, and tucked her into bed, pulling the bed-furs high to her chin. He treated her like a child, and it broke his heart because she was anything but. He kissed her brow, but the hand on his cheek stopped him from standing after he pulled away. He met his mother’s gaze.
“He was proud of you.”
He tried not to let her words affect him, to let her see the bitterness he could taste in his mouth.
He tried to smile, but couldn’t. “I know in his own way he was, mother. You don’t need to do this.”
She didn’t reply, just scanned his face like she was trying to etch it into her memory. “I know he put pressure on you. He expected more from you, so he pushed you harder than any of his other sons. But he was proud of you, Xillik, because you are the leader he never could have been.”
“And what kind of leader is that?”
She smiled sadly. “Kind.”
Emotion clogged his throat, and he had to swallow it down so that his voice didn’t crack when he said, “get some sleep.” He kissed her cheek again before standing. “I’ll check on you in the morning.” He blew out the candle by her bed and turned for the door.
“Xillik,” she called, prompting him to look back at her. “I’m proud of you, too. You were my first great accomplishment. You know that, right?”
He smiled. “I know, mother. Your love was never something I questioned.”
His unspoken truth made her expression turn sad. He never doubted his mother’s love, but he did doubt his father’s. It was a secret he would keep to his grave, sans this moment. It made him feel weak, like a little boy pathetically vying for his father’s approval that he knew he would never give.
“Watch out for them,” his mother said, bringing back his attention. “Especially Lévaunia.”
He frowned, a few urgent steps propelling him forward. “Mother—” he started, worried.
Something about her tone made it seem like a goodbye.
“She’s suffering, Xi. He was the sun to her.”
He nodded in understanding. His father and little sister shared a bond that none of his brother’s shared. He had only see him father show tenderness a few times in his life, and it was always with his mother or sister.
“I’ll always watch out for them. Just like I’ll always watch out for you,” he promised. His concern grew when his mother’s eyes glistened with fresh tears.
“Please don’t cry,” he said softly, coming to her bedside again. She grabbed his hand from off her cheek and held it, staring him in the eyes.
“I love you, Xi. You’re a good son to worry, but I’ll be fine soon.”
Her last sentence confused him, but instead of responding, he simply accepted the kiss she gave his cheek. She dropped his hands with a squeeze when he stood, and with one last wish of goodnight, he closed the door and left.
When he came to collect her the next morning, she was gone. No one said it out loud, but they didn’t have to because the last thing she said to him made sense now.
His parents shared a love that no one had understood. It was brutal, passionate, and true. They were two beings who shared a soul, however broken they might have been.
Leawyn couldn’t live with half of her soul gone.
His father was her heart, and it refused to beat without him.
The end.
Click here for a never before seen bonus scene in Xavier’s point of view, exclusive only in this boxset!
Nicole René is a San Diego native living with her grumpy kitty, Sebastian and her crazy cute Boxer, Walter.
When she’s not busy creating sexy alpha males, you can most likely find her with her nose stuck in a book reading OTHER sexy alpha males, kicking back with her friends and family, at the movies, or further fueling her “The Little Mermaid” and “The Lord of the Rings” obsession.
She is a certified klutz, often tripping over invisible objects, dropping things like they were hot, and playing ping-pong with the walls. She has lots of tattoos, loves to eat sushi—but hates eating cooked fish, hates going to the beach (even though she’s surrounded by them), and is still waiting for her Hogwarts letter to come in the mail.
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HOW THE WARRIOR FELL:
To my readers both, present and future—Thank you for taking a chance with your hard earned money and buying this book. I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I look forward to (virtually) getting to know you all!
My family— Thank you for all your continued support, and love. Dad, thank you for all your help with making this possible. I know there was quite a few (a lot) times that you caught me writing instead of doing my office work like I was suppose to be doing, yet you continued to support my dream. Mom, thank you for always picking me up when I fell with self-doubt and fear. You were always ready to listen to me read and blab about my book ideas. You were quick to offer me words of encouragement and gave me strength to work through my fears. I love you. To my brother, you’re my best friend and one of my favorite people. I love you lots! To my sister, even though we tend to fight like cats and dogs, I hope you know how much I love you. Because I do. Thank you for supporting me!
To my friends— Even though I was a bit tight lipped about what exact
ly I was writing, you still supported me through it all and were always ready to support me in any way I needed. I truly have the best group of friends, and I’m so thankful to have found true friendship in you all.
To Joanne—You’re the best employee ever! You’re always quick to encourage me, and your excitement and willingness to listen to me read whatever I write means so much! I hope you enjoyed this book as much as you thought you would!
To Lauren Funtootie (told you I would, ha ha!)— one of my best, and closest friend who was lucky enough to meet Mike, her closeted-romance-book-reader boyfriend who inspired some of my personal favorite quotes in this book. You rock Mike!
To my beta readers — You all took a chance on a first time author by beta-reading this book and I cannot thank you enough. All your insight, enthusiasm, encouragement, and feedback helped me and this book so much. Thank you!
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Krista— For rising to the challenge of editing this book when I decided to revamp it. Thank you so much!
To Carian Cole— I don’t think I can truly express how thankful I am for you. I adore you. You have been so incredibly helpfully, and supportive. You took the time to listen to your fan, and completely blew expectations away by the helping hand you offered so freely. Thank you for being so patient with me, and for answering my endless (and sometimes annoying) questions about this crazy self publishing world, and all the encouraging words and advice you have given me. There are no words to truly express how thankful I am of you. You’re truly one of a kind! I hope that we can one day meet so that I can hang out with my girl-crush face to face!
To Book Enthusiast Promotions and Bloggers— Thank you so much for all your shares, reviews, comments, and likes and making my first book release a massive success! Us authors would be completely lost without you.
To Kari Ayasha—Thank you for my beautiful cover! It’s everything I ever could have imagined and more! I couldn’t help but stare at it for hours in complete awe. I love it! You’re the best!