by Nicole René
“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, too, 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.
… for reading HOW THEY FELL!
I am new author, and any reviews are very much appreciated. If you have a few moments to spare, I’d greatly appreciated it if you left a review on the retailer’s site where you purchased the book, and send the review link to [email protected] and I’ll personally thank you with a written response!
Other books in the Falling Warriors series
Want to know more about Xavier and Leawyn and their beginning? Check out their book and first installment of the Falling Warriors series in HOW THE WARRIOR FELL.
A complete full length novel available exclusively on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
Buy it here.
http://bit.ly/howthewarriorfell
Please turn the page to enjoy a little taste of How the Warrior Fell.
Synopsis:
SHE was the Chief's daughter in a small tribe...
To bring an end to an ancient feud between her tribe and another, Leawyn's hand in marriage to Chief Xavier was the only way to ensure peace.
HE was the fiercest warrior of them all...
Plucked from everything she's ever known, and bound to a man she hates, Leawyn must learn to be strong. Each passing day renews Leawyn's longing to escape, but when a new threat from a mysterious foe puts the tribes in jeopardy, everything changes...including her feelings for Xavier.
Bound between duty and honor, Leawyn must make the decision that could change everything. Can she stay and accept her new life, and her husband? Or is Xavier's heart too cold for her to melt?
Lines will be broken.
Blood will be shed.
With love being their biggest battle of all, only time will tell, if it will be enough...to make her warrior fall
Author’s Note: This book is a Dark Historical Romance and as such may include themes that are uncomfortable to the reader like arranged marriage, graphic violence, non-consensual sex, and an over-the-top alpha warrior who is extremely possessive and demanding. Being historical, it is written in accordance to the views and laws of the time period.
Excerpt
Leawyn stared down at herself in the basin of water, her sea-blue eyes taking in her hair that fell around her heart-shaped face in thick, long waves. She touched her cheek and trailed her fingertips down to her pale pink lips. Leawyn sighed and swiped the water in the basin roughly to erase her reflection.
Her head snapped up at the sound of footfalls coming towards her room.
Oh Gods, they’re coming, she thought. Moments later, the flap separating her room from the rest of the hut swung aside and in stepped her father and betrothed. She gasped softly when the man’s cold brown eyes met hers.
Xavier kept his merciless eyes focused on her as he stood to his full six-foot-six height. His coal-colored hair brushed the tops of his broad shoulders, spread wide against his defined chest. His arms were bunched with muscles as they rested against his sides. The rumors she heard revolving around this man were all true, Leawyn realized, because looking at him now, all she could think of was danger.
Leawyn could still feel the heavy weight of Xavier’s gaze as she looked over to her father, who spoke suddenly, breaking the tense silence.
“Daughter, this is your betrothed, Xavier,” Boers said nervously as he glanced to Xavier before looking at her again. “Chief of the Izayges.”
Leawyn looked to Xavier again, the heat of his gaze making her uncomfortable. She lowered her head, dipping her body slightly at the waist in greeting.
Xavier continued to study her, raking his eyes up and down her body slowly. She felt even smaller in front of him. As discreetly as possible, Leawyn peeked up at him and studied him much like he did her.
His broad chest was bare, and he wore dark breeches that looked to be made of some type of tough animal skin, similar to leather. She could only spot three noticeable weapons on his person, but she doubted it was all he had on him. He had a sword that was long and wickedly curved strapped to his back, and another long, thick, straight blade hung down from the side of his waist. On the other side of his hip, Leawyn could see the hilt of a dagger peaking out of the waistband of his breeches. She glanced at his arms. They were massive. She looked down, heart rate spiking.
He was terrifying.
“Leave us,” Xavier demanded gruffly. His deep voice caused the demand to come out more like a growl. Leawyn felt her eyes widen, glancing at her father in fear.
Don’t leave me, Leawyn thought.
Her father shifted uncomfortably, but nodded his head. “Of course.” He bowed to Xavier. Giving his daughter one last apologetic look, he turned and lifted open the flap of the tent, leaving Xavier and Leawyn alone.
Leawyn lowered her eyes back to the ground, her chest tight with dread. She heard Xavier move closer to her, and she took a halting breath against the nervousness that seemed to choke her and keep her body paralyzed.
“Tell me your name, girl,” Xavier demanded, staring down at her small form. She was tiny compared to him. He easily towered over her.
Leawyn felt herself bristle slightly at his tone. He didn’t ask, he commanded.
“Leawyn,” she answered softly, proud her voice didn’t come out as shaky as she thought it would.
Xavier’s expressionless mask twisted into an angry scowl.
“Look at me,” Xavier growled, his voice low. When Leawyn’s eyes failed to meet his fast enough, he reached down and gripped her chin and
jerked her face up to look at him.
“Your gaze will always meet my own,” he told her sternly, staring down into her wide eyes. “You will only have eyes for me, do you understand?”
Leawyn’s feelings of fear quickly turned into annoyance. “Shall I call you master while I’m at it?” she asked sardonically, glaring at him defiantly. She wasn’t prepared for the sharp jerk he gave her chin as he forced her to tilt her face up higher.
“I do not appreciate the attitude, Leawyn. You will do well to remember who exactly you are talking to, and you will respect me,” Xavier growled down at her, yanking her chin up yet again, and causing a whimper of pain to escape from her.
“Now, do you understand?” he asked again. When she went to give him a nod, he tightened his grip on her before she could follow through with the motion. “The words, Leawyn. I want the words.”
“Yes!” Leawyn gasped out against his tight hold, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Yes, I understand!”
Leawyn rubbed her aching jaw as he let go of her abruptly. She took a few steps away from him hastily, trying to blink back the tears of pain and fear that clouded her eyes.
“How old are you?” Xavier asked, watching her.
“E-eighteen summers,” Leawyn stuttered, looking up at him nervously. She knew he was much older than she, and the knowledge that she was expected to marry him made her stomach clench with sickness. But, Leawyn knew some girls younger than herself were married to much older men. She told herself she should be somewhat grateful.
“We will be married in three days’ time.”
Leawyn’s body tensed in shock, the icy cold feeling of dread washed over her. “What?” She gaped at him. “We can’t!”
She couldn't live with this man! This possessive, domineering man who didn’t care if he hurt her.