by Nicole René
“You’re right,” Xavier said, taking in the flash of surprise in Tyronian’s eyes at that admission. “She deserves better, but I gave her a chance and she didn’t take it. It won’t happen again. She made her choice.” And it was Xavier.
Whether Leawyn admit it or not, she was his. Xavier just hoped he’d have more time to convince her.
Tyronain was silent. He was studying Xavier in a way that made him uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke. “You love her.”
Xavier stiffened.
“You might not think you’re capable of love, Xavier, but I know you’re wrong.” With nothing else left to say, Tyronian turned and started to walk away again. “Call me when your plan is ready.”
Xavier watched him go, dizzy with the conflicting emotions Tyronian’s statemanet arose. Did he love Leawyn? How was he able to feel love, when he doesn’t even know what the emotion felt like? Love was never a possibility in Xavier’s life. It wasn’t something he deserved.
He looked down at the corpse, pushing the thought of love to the back of his mind. He had more important matters to deal with. He crouched, forearms resting on his knees as he studied the symbol. He was missing something.
It came to him like a flash of lighting.
Xavier surged to his feet. The symbols! He had seen them before. They were on Hiinex, the same exact symbols. It was a tribe brand. This was how they’d identify the traitor. Xavier immediately started to walk back to camp.
I’m coming for you, Leawyn, Xavier thought. I promise.
Leawyn slowly came to, the sound of hushed voices arguing with each other nearby.
Leawyn groaned, and the voices instantly silenced. She felt, more than saw, someone kneel by the bed.
“Leawyn?”
Leawyn sat up slowly, blinking into focus.
“Easy. Don’t overdo it.”
“Asten?” Leawyn said, shocked when she opened her eyes.
Asten frowned at the hoarseness of her voice and surged to his feet.
“I told you not to hurt her!” Asten yelled at Tristan, his face red with his anger.
“I didn’t,” Tristan replied coolly. “She’s breathing. I think the important question is how you two seem to know each other.”
Tristan’s eyes were narrowed and guarded when he looked between Leawyn and Asten.
“We’re old friends,” Asten said, his expression softening when he looked back at Leawyn. She blushed when Asten trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. Tristan’s eyes zeroed in on the intimate gesture.
“Just friends?” Tristan asked, his tone more suspicious than before.
Asten tensed, and Leawyn shifted uncomfortably at the sudden strain electrifying the air around them.
“What does it matter to you?” Asten asked, his tone just as suspicious as Tristan’s when he turned around to face him.
“Just curious is all,” Tristan shrugged noncommittally. “Leawyn never mentioned you, and I don’t remember seeing you when she wed my brother.”
Something about the way Tristan said that sentence tickled something in Leawyn; an unmasked emotion she couldn’t quite place. It sounded almost . . . accusing.
“That’s because I wasn’t there.” Asten’s eyes bore into Leawyn’s. “I couldn’t watch the woman I love marry another man.”
Leawyn felt more than saw Tristan’s glare at that proclamation. She was just as shocked. Up until that moment at the cliffs, Asten never showed signs of caring about her more than just a childhood friend.
“So, attacking the Izayges wasn’t just about power.” Tristan shot a look at Leawyn. “It was about her.”
“I made a promise to save her.”
“How dare you,” Leawyn said with quiet fury that surprised Asten and Tristan. She shot to her feet. “You attacked the Izayges long before you made that promise to me. Do not use me as an excuse to hide behind your ulterior motives. You slaughtered my tribe!”
Asten straightened, his expression sliding into an emotional mask. His eyes were cold when they met Leawyn’s. Tristan turned away and—distantly—Leawyn thought it was weird he looked guilty.
“You murdered my entire family! They were inncocent. You know they aren’t fighters like the Izayges. You didn’t have to do that—you chose to!” Angry and bitter tears filled Leawyn’s eyes as she looked at Asten, who still didn’t seem at all remorseful. “How dare you stand there and say you did all this for me. You didn’t do this for me—you did this for you.”
“You want to go back to him,” Asten accused, and Leawyn was boggled that was all he had to say. “To Xavier, the man you hate.”
Just hearing his name made Leawyn's heart ache with such intensity it was crippling. She could only imagine what he was going through. How worried he must be. Leawyn needed to remember her promise.
She needed to get back to him.
“I want to go home,” Leawyn lied. “I want the fighting to stop.”
Asten’s eyes darkened. “They were never your home, Lea.”
Leawyn’s eyes narrowed. She was really tired of men telling trying to control her, and her opinions.
“Besides,” Asten continued, “it’s too late. Half my men are already stationed for attack, waiting for me.”
“Where?” Tristan spoke up suddenly, which startled Leawyn. She forgot he was still in the room. Asten looked over at him, taking in the eager gleam in his eyes.
“We leave at dawn. Come nightfall . . .” The malicious smile that lit up Asten’s face made Leawyn stumble back in shock. “I’ll enjoy hearing the dying screams as I wipe out the disease that is the Izayges and the Samaritan people.”
Leawyn paled and swayed unsteadily on her feet. One day. She only had one day to form a plan of escape and warn Xavier.
“I’ll get what I was promised?”
“Yes, yes” Asten waved his hand dismissively at Tristan. “You’ll get your own precious tribe.”
Leawyn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How can her eldest friend who had always been so loving and kind to her—someone she often thought would never be as cold-hearted as Xavier—talk about killing hundreds of innocent people so callously.
“What happened to you?” Leawyn breathed out. “Why are you doing this?”
“What happened to you?” Asten yelled, incensed. He yanked Leawyn to him and glared down at her. “What sorcery did he bewitch you with?”
“He didn’t!”
“Then why are you fighting this?” Asten asked condemningly. He looked at her the same way Leawyn was looking at him—like he couldn’t believe what she was saying.
“Because I don’t want there to be any fighting!” Leawyn said in exasperation. “Especially now I know who we’re fighting against.”
“What we’re fighting against?” Asten repeated. He chuckled humorlessly shaking his head. “See, that right there is what I have a problem with.”
“What . . . ?”
Asten’s expression softened slightly. “It’s okay, Lea. I know it’s not your fault.”
Leawyn’s confusion didn’t lessen in the slightest, even as Asten gathered her into his arms for a hug. He kissed the side of her head, keeping his lips there as he murmured, “I’m going to save you, Leawyn. You and your mind.”
Understanding dawned on Leawyn, but before she could do anything, Asten shoved her away and into Tristan who caught her, gripping her arm tightly.
“Put her with her friend,” Asten ordered. “Same treatment.”
Tristan nodded and proceeded to drag Leawyn away.
“No!” Leawyn cried, Tristan easily containing her struggles. “You don’t have to do this!”
“I’m sorry, Lea,” Asten said sorrowfully. “But now more than ever, I see that I need to kill him. It’s the only way to free your mind.”
“Don’t do this!” Leawyn pled desperately, straining against Tristan’s hold. “Please!”
Asten’s expression was full of pain as he watched Tristan drag Leawyn away. “When I get back, you’
ll be better. You’ll be my Lea again.”
Leawyn looked over and panicked when she realized how close they were to the exit. “Please!” Tears of frustration and terror clouded Leawyn’s eyes.
Tristan held the tent flap open. One more step, and they would be outside
“Asten!”
The last thing Leawyn saw before the tent flap closed was Asten’s back as he turned away from her and her pleas.
LEAWYN WAS STILL reeling from shock as Tristan dragged her away from Asten’s tent. In a detached way, she could almost see the irony. She begged Asten to run away with her to escape Xavier, and now, she wanted to run to Xavier to escape Asten.
“How long?” Tristan barked out, setting the pace at a brisk walk that had Leawyn struggling to keep up. “How long have you been letting him between your legs behind my brother’s back?”
“What?” Leawyn spluttered.
“How long have you been lying to him, huh?” Tristan laughed humorlessly. “You talked of me being a traitor, when you have been betraying Xavier all along!”
Leawyn stopped short, completely mystified by the judgment in his tone and expression, as though he was actually concerned for Xavier and her loyalty to him. Why would it matter to him if she was unfaithful? She wasn’t, of course. Tristan’s reaction didn’t make sense.
“Why do you even care? You left! You tried to kill him, remember? You—”
Tristan stopped abruptly, whirled Leawyn around and pushed into her space. He leaned in, his eyes icy. “I should just kill you,” Tristan said with soft menace. “Save everyone the trouble.”
Leawyn’s eyes widened, her expression a picture of disbelief before it quickly morphed to outrage.
“I could do it right now,” Tristan’s hand crept to her throat like a snake, squeezing it with just the right amount of pressure to ensure Leawyn he could hurt her. “No witnesses.”
It was then Leawyn realized how isolated they were. It was dark, no torches or fires to guide them, and it was dead silent. The hand around her throat tightened, bringing her attention back to Tristan, who stared down at her with cold eyes.
“Scared?” Tristan taunted.
Leawyn’s eyes narrowed and her spine straightened. “You don’t scare me. You’re a coward,” she hissed heatedly.
“You don’t compare to your brother,” she saw Tristan’s eyes narrowed into slits, “in any way. As a warrior, as a man, or as someone to fear. You’re nothing.”
“Shut up,” Tristan growled, vibrating with anger.
Leawyn pushed forward, making his hand press hard into her throat. “You. Don’t. Scare. Me.”
Leawyn yelped when Tristan released her suddenly. She watched as he paced like a captured animal. He stopped, just staring out into the darkness.
“So many people love you, Leawyn,” Tristan mused. The abrupt change of topic made Leawyn dizzy.
“What do they see in you?” Tristan asked, spearing her with intensity in his eyes that stole her breath. There was an almost longing look in his orbs. “What is it that’s so special about you?”
“What—”
“You destroyed him.”
Leawyn’s breath hitched, silencing whatever she was going to say. Tristan studied her, taking in her face and the emotions that caused it to change.
“You have so much power over him. He revolves around you. One look at him with those blue eyes of yours and you bring him to his knees.” Tristan frowned. “Why?”
Leawyn’s lip trembled. He didn’t need to elaborate; Leawyn knew he was referring to Xavier.
“You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that.” Tristan smiled, fingering a golden lock of her hair. “You were the girl the Gods were sad to lose. They say the sky cried when you were born, did you know that?”
Leawyn’s face cracked, and Tristan watched as a tear slid down her cheek.
“They all love you,” Tristan said quietly. “You touch the heart of every person you meet . . . even mine.” Tristan swiped his thumb underneath her eye, smearing the tear onto her cheek. He looked up at her, and for a moment, he let her see the real Tristan. Then he stepped back, and it was gone.
“It’s your eyes,” Tristan decided, straightening. “It’s what’s behind them.” Tristan gripped her arm again.
“They reflect the purity of your heart and the damage in your soul. That’s why you scare me, Leawyn, and that’s why I hate you. You made him wish he was worthy of you.”
They didn’t speak to each other the rest of the way. By the time they reached their destination, the only evidence of Leawyn falling apart was the tear tracks on her cheeks.
“What are you doing?” Namoriee eyed Leawyn curiously.
Leawyn had sat compliantly and didn’t resist when Tristan brought her in and bound her. She was filled with relief at seeing Namoriee unharmed as he tied her feet first, then her hands behind her back and around the pole in the middle of the tent.
That was quite some time ago, and until now, Leawyn hadn’t so much as moved a muscle. Now she was flailing her legs about.
“Hey!” Namoriee snapped, moving her legs out of the way when Leawyn almost slammed her heel onto Namoriee’s foot.
“We gotta get out of here,” Leawyn said, still flopping around like a lunatic. “Asten is planning an attack. Only this time it’s to completely annihilate the tribes. We have to warn Xavier before that happens.”
“Why?”
“What?” Leawyn huffed, slumping against the pole. She blew an errant strand away from her face, frustrated.
“Why do you want to go back?” Namoriee hesitated, avoiding Leawyn’s eyes when she looked over at her. “I thought this would be what you wanted? To escape Chief Xavier?”
Leawyn stilled, the question throwing her off guard. Why did she want to go back?
By all accounts she shouldn’t want to. Why would she want to go back to a man who was more acquainted with her tears than he is her smiles?
Leawyn bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, thinking about her time spent with Xavier and the conflicting feelings that arose. For the longest time, Leawyn couldn’t understand why Xavier was so horrible to her. Xavier gave her every reason to fear him. To hate him.
It wasn’t easy, being married to Xavier. Every day was a battle to stay strong, to survive. But when Leawyn thought back at all the times Xavier was being horrible, and really examined the way she felt . . . she realized she was never as strong as she was when she was with Xavier.
Each terrible thing he did to her, Leawyn could have used as an excuse to end her life—to be a coward. But she chose to live. He pushed her, but she pushed back just as hard. Leawyn learned to be strong when she was at her weakest. None of that would have been possible without Xavier. He made her find her strength.
She wouldn’t abandon him.
“Because he needs me,” Leawyn answered with a soft smile. “And I need him.”
Namoriee looked up at Leawyn, clearly shocked. “I can’t pinpoint when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing Xavier as a monster. He’s just a man who’s never had love, and it’s up to me to show him love isn’t a weakness . . . it’s powerful.”
Leawyn raised an eyebrow when all Namoriee did was stare at her with her mouth agape.
“Any more questions? Or are you ready to help me save our men?”
“Tyronian is not—”
“Yeah, yeah. Save it,” Leawyn cut off her protests impatiently. “Can you reach that?”
Namoriee was startled to see a small dagger was now laying on the floor a few inches away from her feet.
“When did that . . . ?” Namoriee trailed off, confused.
“Xavier gave me that. It’s been in my boot this whole time. Bad breath guy didn’t even think to search me. Idiot,” Leawyn mumbled. “So, can you get it?”
“I believe so.” Namoriee stretched out her leg trying to nudge the dagger closer.
“Try taking off your shoes,” Leawyn suggested helpfully. “You can grip the
hilt better with your toes. Just be careful you don’t cut them off.”
“Not helping,” Namoriee mumbled but kicked off her boots nonetheless.
It took some maneuvering, but it wasn’t long before it was close enough for them to reach. Leawyn awkwardly sawed at the ropes binding her wrists. She broke free and quickly reached forward to untie her feet.
“What now?” Namoriee asked, rubbing her sore wrists when Leawyn was done freeing her.
“Now we have to try and escape.” Namoriee rolled her eyes at Leawyn’s stating the obvious.
They walked up to the opening of the tent; loud male voices could be heard from the other side. Leawyn pulled back the flap enough for them to duck their heads and peak outside; they pulled back immediately.
“Well, that’s not good,” Leawyn deadpanned. Namoriee nodded her agreement, eyes wide.
“What are we going to do?”
The tent was guarded, which didn’t particularly surprise Leawyn. What did surprise Leawyn was the amount of guards stationed. Two guards stood at the ready directly outside of the tent, with a huddled group sitting around the fire in the center of the quad. The other guards stationed on the outskirts solidified the fact they were surrounded.
Leawyn looked around their sparse tent thoughtfully. “As far as we can tell, they only had one guard in the back, so if we can take him out, we’ll sneak away.”
“How are we gonna do that?”
“We’ll cut a slit in the tent,” Leawyn pointed over to the corner and the sole silhouette standing guard.
“And after?”
Leawyn shrugged helplessly, giving Namoriee an exasperated look. “I don’t know, Namoriee! I’m doing this as we go.”
“We have to get out of this camp—unnoticed—and then there’s the fact of somehow getting back,” Namoriee pointed out obviously. Dubiously. “We’ll never make it.”
“We have to try.” Leawyn said firmly. “If we don’t, hundreds of people will die. Gather your courage, Namoriee,” Leawyn ordered grimly, “because we’re going to get out of here.”
Namoriee inhaled shakily, but she pushed back her shoulders in determination. It made Leawyn grin. Namoriee was stronger than she thought she was.