by Nicole René
Namoriee and Leawyn shared a concerned look with each other.
“Please Aggod, rest. I’m worried for you.”
Aggod looked over at her, and Namoriee’s expression must have convinced her. “Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “But as the head healer, I’m telling you I’m fine.”
“I’m sure.” Namoriee smiled, helping Aggod get comfortable as she lay down. The healer let out a tired sigh, and it only took a few moments for her to fall asleep. Namoriee stood, walking over to Leawyn.
“I don’t like how sickly she looks,” Leawyn whispered, concerned.
Namoriee looked over at Aggod, noticing how uneasy her breathing was. She felt the same worry as Leawyn. Aggod had been the Izayges healer for many years, her age second to the village elder, who was a remarkable seventy winters. If something were to happen to her . . .
“I’m going to stay with her,” Namoriee decided, looking back to Leawyn. “She’s a stubborn old bat, and an even worse patient.”
Leawyn smiled. “I’m sure that will be wise.” Her smile dimmed slightly, and she shot a look at Namoriee that made her feel nervous. “What about Tyronian?”
Namoriee looked away. “There’s no telling when he’ll be back. Besides,” Namoriee said, turning back to Leawyn, “I doubt he’ll care. I can look after Xillik. I know that’s why you came in here,” she said, gesturing to Leawyn’s son. “Though, I think he’s fine, minus a nasty bruise.”
They hadn’t managed to stop Xillik in time, and as a result, he had been bitten on the arm. Luckily, Kitchu hadn’t put much pressure into the bite, but it still terrified Xillik.
Leawyn gave Namoriee a look that ensured her that she knew she was purposefully diverting her attention, but a mother’s worry was too great of a distraction. Leawyn’s expression softened when she looked down at her son, brushing the wisps of blond curls away from his forehead.
“I overreacted, I know,” Leawyn said, watching as Xillik blinked sleepily. He looked moments away from a nap. “Did you know my father never taught me how to ride?”
Namoriee’s eyes bulged in surprise. “What?” she choked. “But how? I mean, you ride so well. How is it possible if you never . . .”
Leawyn grinned at her spluttering. “I found Deydrey on the beach when I was a child,” Leawyn explained. “Her leg was fractured, I think. She’d been abandoned by her herd and left to die, but I found her. Asten, he . . . he wanted to kill her. Said the best thing to do for her was put her out of her misery.” Leawyn smiled softly, her eyes lost in the memory. “I begged him not to. I told him that if he were to kill her, it would be as if he were taking my life, too. He never liked to see me cry, so . . .” Leawyn’s smile dimmed, and her eyes flared with pain.
“He helped me train her. Taught me everything he knew. She hasn’t left my side since,” she finished quietly.
Leawyn stared off in the distance sorrowfully but was brought out of her trance when Namoriee gripped her hand in comfort.
“Sorry.” Leawyn wiped away her tears, embarrassed.
“He was different then, wasn’t he?”
“Yes,” Leawyn replied, voice hollow. “He was.”
“Would you . . . would you like to tell me some stories about him?” Namoriee asked tentatively.
Leawyn looked down to Xillik, who had fallen asleep sometime during their exchange, before meeting her eyes again, hesitant.
“I would like to know,” Namoriee admitted. “I only know one part of him. It would be nice to know the other, too. More than that, I think you need this, my lady. So, please.” She turned, sitting down on the chair by the fire, gesturing for Leawyn to do the same. “How did you get Deydrey to safety if her leg was hurt?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Leawyn chuckled quietly, rearranging Xillik once she sat down. “First, we had to figure out where to put her . . .”
“Do you know where your wife is right now?”
Tyronian’s brow rose. He had just returned after successfully driving back the wanderers who had tried to encroach on their land. He was tired, hungry, and just about to sit down for the evening meal, but before he could even think about sliding into his seat, Leawyn was there, hands on her hips and a glare of death on her face.
“What—”
“Why does she seem to think that you wouldn’t care where she’s at?” Leawyn interrupted him.
Huh? Tyronian thought. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Leawyn, I—”
“What did you do? Because I swear to all the gods and the goddess, I will cut you if you hurt her!” Leawyn once again interrupted him before he could get a word in. Tyronian’s brows rose higher at the threat.
Was it just him, or did Leawyn seem particularly more violent with this pregnancy?
“When I told you to break her heart, I didn’t mean as soon as you wed!”
At this point, Tyronian was beyond exasperated. “Leawyn!” he yelled, cutting her off mid-rant and gaining the attention of everyone in the hall, including Xavier. “What are you talking about?” he asked when she finally quieted.
“What’s going on here?” Xavier came up behind Leawyn, leveling Tyronian with a dark look over her shoulder. Leawyn leaned back against Xavier’s chest, welcoming his embrace when he wrapped his arm around her waist. The move was both protective and possessive.
Tyronian almost rolled his eyes. He would never hurt Leawyn, and Xavier knew it. But that didn’t stop his chief’s crazy tendencies when it came to his wife. Bastard still growled whenever he thought a man was looking at her longer than what he felt was appropriate. Which, unfortunately for him (or maybe unfortunately for them?), was often. Leawyn was a beauty, and people noticed regardless. Tyronian was surprised Xavier hadn’t locked her in their hut forever.
Oh wait, he’d tried that once. It didn’t work. Now he just stuck to growling and stabbing and killing.
Tyronian shook his head. He needed to get back on topic.
“I’ve had to send Castic to deliver Namoriee’s meals the past few days because she seems to think that you wouldn’t notice, or care, that she plans to stay with Aggod until she’s well.”
“What happened to Aggod?” Xavier asked.
“Quiet, Xavier. The adult is talking right now,” Leawyn shushed. Xavier scowled.
Tyronian didn’t miss the insult she’d aimed at him, either. He sighed and rubbed his temples where a headache was rapidly forming. Leawyn’s pregnancy mood swings were driving him crazy. He couldn’t wait until she popped the kid out.
The sudden silence made Tyronian realize he’d said that aloud. He winced at the dangerous look he was receiving from both of his cousins.
“Get your ass over to Aggod’s hut and fix whatever you did, or else you’ll really see what pregnancy mood swings can do to you,” Leawyn growled, jabbing an angry finger in the direction of the hall entrance. His eyes widened at the threat.
“Leawyn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“GO!”
And like a puppy with his tail between his legs, he did.
The only time Aggod stayed awake for long was when Namoriee woke her to feed her. It worried Namoriee greatly, but she held on to the hope that the deep sleep was Aggod’s body trying to heal itself. She had just finished setting up her makeshift sleeping space on the floor when the hut’s door opened. It was probably Leawyn checking up on her again.
“I’m fine. I was just about to settle in,” she called over her shoulder.
“Avoiding me again, wife?”
Namoriee whirled around with a gasp.
“Tyronian. W-W-When did you get back?”
Tyronian almost smiled at the stutter, a sure sign that she was unnerved.
“This evening,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Care to enlighten me why you’re here and not at home?” he asked, looking down at her when he came to a stop in front of her. She licked her lips nervously, an action that made his cock twitch to life. The things he could make her do with those lips . . .
“I-
I was j-just . . .” Her breath faltered when he pulled her closer to him, nuzzling the top of her head and breathing in her scent.
“You were just . . . what?” he prompted, enjoying how his proximity affected her.
“Aggod is sick, so I j-j-just thought that I’d—”
“You just thought that you would avoid me by hiding out here instead of being in bed with your husband?”
Her silence told him that he was right.
“You can’t escape me, Namoriee. No matter how hard you try. If you run, I’ll catch you. If you hide, I’ll find you.” His hands traveled down the length of her, relishing in the tremble he felt at his touch.
She gave out the slightest moan, so quiet he wouldn’t have heard it if he didn’t have his lips against her throat. Her skin tasted salty and sweet.
It was addicting.
He gripped her hips, pulling her close enough so that she could feel the bulge in his pants, his body’s natural response to her presence.
“You’ll find that the man I was before is gone. He would have let you try to avoid him without doing anything about it. He was a man who wanted someone bad enough that he was willing to wait for her to grow up without a man binding her . . . that man is dead.”
“D-D-Dead?” Her voice was positively breathy.
“Dead,” he confirmed, nipping the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
“What man am I looking at now, then?” She shivered when his tongue apologized for the nip.
He pulled back and smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was primitive, possessive, and completely venereal.
“One that has been starving for two winters, which is a lot of time to figure out exactly what he’ll do once he has the woman he’s wanted. And believe me, she’ll get just as much pleasure out of the experience as he will.”
He pulled away completely from her then, looking around Aggod’s hut. His eyes landed on the pale form of the healer, who did, in fact, look sickly. Aggod was normally a light sleeper, something she had to be as the healer of the Izayges warriors. The fact that she didn’t wake up during their exchange was troubling.
“How long has she been like this?”
“Days.”
Tyronian frowned, his concern for the healer growing. He’d have to inform Xavier.
“You can stay here for the night,” he relented. “But make no mistake, wife, come tomorrow night, and every night after, you’ll be sleeping next to me in our bed.”
Not giving her time to pull away, he claimed her lips with his. Before his self-control vanished, he pulled away from her instead of throwing her down on the floor and burying himself deep inside of her like he wanted to. He brushed one last kiss to her lips before he spun around and left.
True to his word, Tyronian made sure that Namoriee slept in their bed every night since his return. Confusingly, he hadn’t lain with her since their wedding night weeks ago, even after everything he’d said.
She refused to admit that she felt almost reminiscent with longing for his touch. Namoriee opened the door to Leawyn’s shelter and watched in amusement as she tried to wrestle Xillik into clothes. Xillik was in the stage where he refused to wear pants or his napkin diaper. It wasn’t uncommon to find him running around the tribe naked, having found some way of getting out of his cloth confinements.
“Need some help?”
Leawyn sagged with relief at the sight of her. “He won’t stay still!” Leawyn exclaimed, tears of frustration building in her eyes. “He won’t stop squirming, and I can’t, I can’t . . .”
Namoriee’s eyes rounded when Leawyn promptly burst into tears. She rushed over to her.
“I’m a horrible mother!” Leawyn wailed when Namoriee wrapped her arms around her, gently guiding her to sit down.
“You’re not a horrible mother,” Namoriee soothed, keeping an eye on Xillik, who had used his mother’s meltdown to slip off the bed.
“I am!” Leawyn cried. “I can’t even get my own son dressed, and even my husband can’t stand the sight of me now!”
Namoriee didn’t know how she went from Xillik hating her to Xavier not being able to stand the sight of her, but she wasn’t going to comment on that. Besides, she highly doubted the last part. This pregnancy was harder for Leawyn, and she seemed to be more emotional than she had been with her last.
“That’s not true,” Namoriee told her, rubbing her arm. “Why would you say that?” In her peripheral vision, she saw Xillik now trying to get out of his diaper.
“Last night he wouldn’t lie with me.” Leawyn turned to her, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Xavier never does that! Half the time, I could barely walk by the end of the day with how often he would take me. He’s never denied me before, never!”
If the whole village didn’t already know that fact, it would probably have been way more information than Namoriee needed about Leawyn’s relationship with her husband.
“Leawyn, you’re with child. He probably does not want to risk you miscarrying again.”
Immediately, Namoriee knew she’d made a terrible mistake.
“What?” Leawyn sniffled, her tears subsiding in her confusion. “I’ve never miscarried.”
Something about the look on her face must have given her away because, instantly, Leawyn’s body language changed.
“What did you mean by that, Namoriee?” Leawyn demanded.
Namoriee opened her mouth, trying to speak, to say something to cover up her error, but the words got caught. Leawyn shot to her feet (well, as much as she could while pregnant), bearing down on Namoriee with the full weight of her gaze.
“Why did you say that? Tell me!”
“I-I-I . . .” Her throat felt tight, making it impossible for her to speak around the panic choking her. “I-I didn’t m-mean . . .”
Could she really look Leawyn in the eyes and continue to lie to her like everyone else?
“Tell me,” Leawyn whispered. The fear in her voice . . . it was like she knew Namoriee was going to confirm something she felt deep inside her gut.
Leawyn’s shoulders slumped, and Namoriee knew that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lie to her anymore.
“It was early into your marriage,” Namoriee began with a tremor in her voice.
Leawyn slowly lowered herself back on the bed in a daze as Namoriee began to tell her everything.
“You want to do what?” Xavier asked incredulously.
Tyronian sighed. They were inside of the war hut, and he had just finished reporting back to Xavier about the small skirmish against the land poachers when he brought up his request.
“She’s struggling to accept our marriage. I think some time away together would help.”
Xavier leaned back in his chair, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Who cares if she’s struggling? She’s your wife, and you claimed her. Nothing she can do about it—you either make her accept it, or she’ll learn it on her own.”
Tyronian rolled his eyes. Xavier said it like it was the most obvious thing in the land.
Not that he could say he was surprised at his cousin’s response; it was what Xavier did with Leawyn, after all. He didn’t have much compassion, and in the rare occurrence that he did, he only bestowed it to Leawyn, or his son.
“I’m not like you,” Tyronian pointed out. It had always been Xavier’s way to take something he wanted without question. “I don’t want to force her to love me. I want her to do that on her own.”
Xavier grunted, apparently disgusted. “If that’s true, why did you marry her if your plan was to woo her?
The answer to that was simple: he hadn’t wanted to give her a chance to fall in love with someone else. He’d staked his ownership over her the moment he’d killed for her.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Tyronian sniffed. “All I need is your permission.”
Xavier smirked, an expression that said he knew he was right even if Tyronian didn’t want to admit it.
“Do whatever you want.” Xavier shrugge
d, sitting forward to tidy up his desk. “Don’t know why you bother asking—it’s not like you cared about my permission,” he grumbled.
“True,” Tyronian grinned.
The door slammed open, and they both lurched in surprise. Xavier stood up when he saw it was Leawyn, a furious expression on her face as she marched over to him. Namoriee was quick on her heels, panic splayed across her face.
“Leawyn?”
“Namoriee?”
The names came out simultaneously.
“You bastard!” Leawyn yelled, rounding the table and slapping Xavier across the face.
Tyronian’s eyes bulged, his jaw dropping in surprise.
“You lying, good-for-nothing . . . !” she raged as she attacked him, her palm raining slaps on his face and body.
“Leawyn, please!” Namoriee cried, moving in as if to stop her. Tyronian intercepted her by grabbing her around her waist and holding her back at the same time Xavier gripped Leawyn’s wrists mid-slap and herded her against the wall.
“Stop it, Leawyn, before you hurt yourself,” Xavier demanded angrily, his grip on her wrists tightening to keep her pinned to the wall.
“You mean before I miscarry?” Leawyn snapped back furiously. Tyronian and Xavier stiffened in shock. He looked down at Namoriee, at the terror on her face, and instantly he knew what this was about.
Namoriee had told her about the baby she’d lost, and how they all kept it a secret.
To Xavier’s credit, he didn’t react. He simply stared down at Leawyn obdurately. “You need to get ahold of yourself,” he told her calmly.
“You were never going to tell me, were you?” Leawyn’s lip quivered with emotion.
“No.”
“You snake! Let go of me!” Leawyn hissed, struggling against his hold. “You disgust me!”
Xavier was keeping his temper under control for now, but Tyronian could tell that his patience was wearing thin.
“What good would it have done you for me to tell you? Huh?” Xavier demanded, giving Leawyn’s wrists a slight jerk. “You know what it was like then. I couldn’t change the outcome, and neither could you. I saved you heartbreak.”