How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1) (13 page)

Tristan’s jaw tightened as he looked away, not having a response. Leawyn looked down at the snow-covered ground and slowly turned around to head back to camp. She took a few steps before she paused and turned her body halfway to look back at Tristan.

“I remember once, when a man told me to accept my fate.” Tristan slowly looked up, his eyes meeting hers like they did what seemed so long ago. “Those were the words that burned 
my
 ears.”

Tristan flinched, the slight at him sharp and cutting. He looked away from her, and Leawyn didn’t spare him a second more as she made her trek back to her tent.

Leawyn threw the flap over her shoulder with an angry jerk. She stopped, breathing in deeply to try and calm her raging emotions.

Leawyn looked down and grimaced in disgust at her wet clothing. She marched over to the place that held her other clothes and shrugged off both cloaks. She pulled the wet dress over her head quickly and threw it on the ground. Then she grabbed a thick, long-sleeved dress at random.

Leawyn sighed and closed her eyes, immediately feeling warmer now that she had on dry clothes. The angry words Tristan had thrown at her laid heavily on her mind. It brought back emotions she had tried to lock away when she had first set eyes on Xavier.

She did not know what she was doing, and the feeling of being so hopelessly lost was weighing her down.

Leawyn bit her bottom lip hard to hold back the urge to cry.

Her eyes opened and landed at the fire that was growing dim. Deciding it was a task, and doing something would be better than doing nothing, Leawyn made her way over to the pit. It didn’t take her very long to have the fire roaring once again.

She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head against her knees as she stared at the dancing flames.

Leawyn hadn’t realized how tired she was until now. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t had much sleep; her time and energy was consumed with making sure Xavier survived the fever that tried many times to take his life. The few minutes of rest she did get was on top of the animal skins on the floor.

Leawyn didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until she felt arms wrap under her head and under her knees. She startled awake, only to stare up into the dark eyes of her husband leaning over her, getting ready to pick her up.

“Xavier, what are you doing out of bed?” She felt groggy but, nevertheless, sat up. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!” she admonished, frowning. She stood to try and usher him back to the pallets.

Xavier leaned back, allowing her to rise, but planted his feet, not allowing her to move him. “You should be in bed too.”

Leawyn froze, caught by surprise. She looked up to see he was looking down at her, his face the usual mask of indifference that made it difficult to know what he was thinking.

She shook her head. “I’m fine, but you need to lie down,” she said as she tried once again to usher him back to bed.

Xavier didn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed the hand she rested on his arm and held it with his own. Leawyn stilled at the contact, looking up slowly to meet Xavier’s eyes.

“You need to sleep,” Xavier told her, pulling her body closer. “I know you haven’t been sleeping much, and the floor is no place for you to try.”

“But you need to—”

“And I will,” Xavier interrupted her, tugging on her hand as he turned. “You’re just going to go with me,” he told her firmly. Leawyn gazed past his shoulder to the bed pallets, looking at them wearily.

A warm hand cupped her jaw, urging her to look back up at him.

“Just sleep, Leawyn, nothing else,” Xavier promised softly, keeping his gaze locked on her.

“Alright,” she whispered, glancing up at Xavier hesitantly. Xavier said nothing. Instead, he turned back to the bed, keeping his hold on Leawyn’s hand until they reached it. He dropped her hand, and she settled down on the bed pallet obediently as he lay next to her, throwing the thick furs over them both.

Leawyn lay stiffly for a long while, trying to keep her erratic heartbeat from being made obvious through her breathing. She heard a sigh, and a moment later she was wrapped up by a heavily muscled arm. Xavier tugged Leawyn closer until she settled with her head resting on his chest.

Satisfied, he kept his arm around Leawyn, holding her tight, and quickly fell asleep.

Leawyn didn’t dare move, still in shock at the gesture. She peeked up at him and saw he really was asleep. She relaxed. Leawyn did not want to admit it, but being cuddled against him made her feel warmer, and she couldn’t fight the shiver of delight that ran through her.

Surrounded by the warmth of her husband, Leawyn’s body quickly relaxed, and soon she fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her protectively.

Leawyn wasn’t sure what woke her up exactly, and it took her a minute to clear the grogginess out of her mind and tune into her surroundings.

The memory of Xavier waking her up before made her realize the feeling of his heavy arm draped over her possessively was absent. She sat up, holding the furs close to her body as she looked around.

Her blue eyes landed on the muscular back of her husband, who was standing a few paces away from the fire. Leawyn took a moment to truly look at her husband.

His muscles were much more defined than any other man’s she’d seen, and they rippled whenever he moved. His shoulders were wide, and he had two bulging muscles that stood out on either side of his neck. His waist was slim, the V of his hips outlining the solid eight abdomen muscles. A small line of rough dark hair started from his navel and led the way down to a path he made sure she knew well.

She avoided those memories and instead returned her attention to his back again. She never noticed how many scars her husband had until now. The most recent one from the arrow was still an angry red color, the skin around the wound puckered.

One of the older scars was on his ribs, with a few smaller scars surrounding it. There was a long scar which started from his shoulder blade and traveled all the way down to his right hip. It must have been given to him by some unknown enemy who tried to kill him from behind.

Leawyn could see at least two other arrow wound scars. One was below his left shoulder, closer to his arm, and the other below the base of his neck. Had the arrow been shot a few inches higher, Xavier would be dead.

Leawyn knew if he were to turn around, there would be a different array of scars on his chest, arms, and legs.

His scars were the stories of the wars he had fought, and to acquire so many and still be able to draw breath was remarkable. Xavier was not only a warrior; he was also a survivor.

“You shouldn’t be awake.”

Her husband’s voice snapped her out of the trance she was in, and she looked up, expecting to meet his gaze, but he hadn’t turned around.

Leawyn’s face flushed with the knowledge he had felt her staring.

“Yes, well . . .” Leawyn cleared her throat. “You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she countered smoothly, only to scowl when Xavier let out a throaty chuckle. Her scowl deepened when he didn’t say anything more.

“We’ll be leaving at dawn; I would get as much rest as possible. We will be riding hard, and the only breaks we’ll be taking are for the horses.” Xavier looked over his shoulder, studying her before he turned back around and walked to the far end of the tent.

Leawyn watched him with growing curiosity as he rummaged through a few things and then made his way over to her.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asked. In his hands he held a small bow and a few arrows that were most likely used for hunting.

Leawyn’s brow creased in confusion. “Yes, well enough. I was trained a bit when I was a child.”

Xavier nodded in approval. “Most Samaritans are trained in battle, as they should be. It pleases me to hear the Rhoxolani have upheld the tradition.”

Leawyn bristled, narrowing her eyes and giving Xavier a nasty glare. “Are you accusing my people of having no respect for our traditions and heritage?”

Xavier met her gaze calmly, not at all fazed by her outburst. “Rhoxolani people haven’t gone to battle in years, and very rarely venture out of their village. It wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t feel the need to prepare themselves for an attack, nor train their women to protect themselves should the need arise.”

Leawyn’s mouth dropped open and closed for a moment in disbelief. Her disbelief turned into anger, and she snatched the bow and arrow out of his hands. Huffing, she turned on her heel and marched outside.

Xavier blinked at the space Leawyn had been in a moment before, and then he quickly walked after her.

“Leawyn!” he barked, throwing the tent flap over his shoulder in annoyance. His irritation grew when she simply ignored him and stopped towards the end of the camp.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Xavier seethed, trudging through the snow quickly. His shout roused the attention of some of his men who were awake, including Tristan and Tyronian, who both watched curiously.

Leawyn looked up at the sky, her head turning as her eyes searched for something. He was just about to yank her backwards to him when she suddenly notched an arrow and aimed the bow high. She released it before Xavier could stop her.

A moment later, a bird fell out of the sky and dropped to the ground with an arrow lodged in its chest.

He stared at it in shock. When he lifted his eyes to meet Leawyn’s smug look, she roughly pushed the bow to his chest. On reflex he clutched it to him so it wouldn’t fall to the ground.

“Just so you know, the women of my tribe are usually the ones to hunt,” Leawyn said haughtily and walked passed Xavier and into the tent without another word.

Xavier followed her with his eyes before turning back to the bird on the ground.

Tyronian strutted up to it and let out a low whistle, holding the arrow to his face. “Shot it right into the heart!” he said admiringly, walking a few paces to stand in front of his cousin. “Guess she showed you,” he said cheekily.

Xavier scowled at him before he swiftly turned on his heel and marched back into the tent after his wife. His cousin’s laugher followed him in.

X
AVIER CHUCKLED, AMUSED
as he watched his wife arguing with his horse. She didn’t know he was there, which made it all the more entertaining.