How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1) (45 page)

It seemed like days since Leawyn had been taken. The last time she saw Xavier kept replaying in her mind. The way he fought so desperately and ruthlessly to get to her. The look in his eyes when he realized he wouldn’t be able to do the one thing he promised he would always do . . . save her.

Leawyn’s eyes burned with tears. Her throat felt raw from her sobs, and she knew her eyes were swollen from the countless tears she shed. She tried to be strong, but the overwhelming pain and feeling of despair in her heart made it difficult for her to draw breath.

She wanted to go home.

She wanted to see Xavier again.

But the sinking feeling made it impossible to hope. How could Xavier find her when the army had managed to evade him all this time?

It was then Leawyn thought back to the moment Xavier first saved her. She could hear his voice as clearly as if he were right beside her.

“I knew that you’d come for me. I knew you’d save me.”

“Always.”

Leawyn snapped out of her daze as the horse below her skidded to a stop.

They had arrived. Leawyn was about to meet the leader, but it didn’t matter because it was at that moment she made a vow to herself.

This time, she was going to save herself. This time . . . she was coming for Xavier.

And she was going lead him right to his base, right to this leader, and she was going to enjoy the moment when he destroyed them all.

“Let’s go,” her captor said, jerking her off the horse and holding her arm tightly, his grip bruising as he shoved her in front of him and caused her to stumble. Leawyn looked around, struggling mildly against his grip, as she tried to remember every aspect of where she was at.

It was hard to see anything because of how dark it was. But it looked like they were in between two mountains. Or at least deep underground. It was covered and secluded, and Leawyn remembered they traveled across water to get here. It would explain why Xavier had such a hard time finding them.

Leawyn gasped in pain when she was suddenly tossed forward, falling hard onto her knees. Without her hands to catch herself, which had been tied after they made leeway in their escape, she fell face forward.

“Now, that’s no way to treat our guest. Especially a beautiful lady.”

It felt like a blow to her stomach. She knew that voice.

Leawyn’s head snapped up, her face contorting in astonishment before rage took over.

“You!”

“Y
OU’RE THE
TRAITOR?”

“Nice to see you too,” Tristan said, grabbing Leawyn’s arm and hauling her back up to her feet.

“Don’t touch me!”

“I’ll take her,” Tristan said to the man who had brought Leawyn, who was eyeing her with lust clear in his eyes. Leawyn shifted uncomfortably, moving closer to Tristan out of habit.

“What about her friend?” Leawyn stiffened. Her captor had looked at Namoriee with the same lust in his eyes he had now. Leawyn didn’t want Namoriee to be at the mercy of this vile man before her.

“Bind her in the tent set for them,” Tristan ordered. His voice grew stern and his eyes narrowed when he said, “If she is touched, you’ll be answering to me.”

The man straightened, and Leawyn could tell he didn’t appreciate taking orders, but nonetheless he nodded stiffly before walking away. Even with Tristan’s threat, Leawyn was worried about her friend.

“C’mon,” Tristan muttered, yanking Leawyn around.

“Don’t touch me!” Leawyn snapped, pulling at her arm as Tristan manhandled her. “The Rhoxolani were innocent! You murdered them! Why? How can you betray your own tribe? How can you betray Xavier?”

“Easily,” Tristan replied, ignoring her struggles.

“You’re despicable,” Leawyn snarled. “I should have let Xavier kill you.”

“Yes, you should have,” Tristan agreed, smirking.

They stopped in front of a dark grey tent that was significantly bigger than the others before Tristan turned and jerked her forward. He held her bound wrists long enough to cut the bonds before grabbing her arm again and shoving her inside the tent. The interior was simple; a desk situated in the back right corner, two closed trunks sitting across from the desk, and a large bed pallet covered with wool blankets.

“I said don’t touch me,” Leawyn said sharply, jerking her arm away from Tristan when he went to grab her.

“There was a time when you wished for my touch,” Tristan chuckled lowly. “I guess my brother broke you in just fine after all.”

“You
bastard,”
Leawyn hissed, incensed. “You don’t get to say his name! He’s not your brother anymore—you don’t deserve that title!”

“You know, I can’t help but think that if the other Rhoxolani’s had as much fight as you do, they might still be alive.”

Leawyn saw red.

Tristan easily caught Leawyn’s wrists when she went to attack him, holding her at bay. She could tell he enjoyed her thrashing as she tried to lash out at him, then he grew bored.

“I was hoping we could be pleasant, but I see now that was a dream, so you’ll have to forgive me.”

“What—” Leawyn started to say, but it was cut off when Tristan suddenly spun her around so her back met his front. Her scream was muffled when he placed his hand over her mouth and nose, pressing in tight. Cutting off her air supply.

“Shh,” Tristan soothed, holding her tight against her struggles. “Don’t fight it.”

Slowly, Leawyn’s thrashing weakened, and it wasn’t a moment later she felt herself slump against him, losing consciousness.

The battle created by the ambush was over. Bodies that were just moments before celebrating tradition were now lying on the ground and lifeless. Xavier surveyed his surroundings. The only small blessing of the Gods was that there seemed to be more of the enemy’s bodies littering the ground than his tribesmen. Xavier knelt, studying the corpse below him. He had never seen this man before. His skin was fair, and his eyes—frozen wide with death—were a dark brown color. Xavier reached over, turning the corpse’s neck to the side, revealing a strange mark carved into his skin. Three separate loops swirled close together to make one continuous swirl.

“What is that?”

“Symbols,” Xavier answered, grim. He stood up straight when Tyronian moved to stand beside him.

“Have you seen it before?” Tyronian asked, looking down at the fallen warrior.

“No,” Xavier frowned, “but they seem familiar.”

“I don’t get it,” Tyronian glowered, kicking the corpse once in his frustration. “Their numbers were too little. We outnumbered them, so why attack now? It doesn’t make sense. What do they want?”

Xavier swallowed, his chest aching as he thought about Leawyn. Of her reaching out to him, her eyes shining with terror and desperation to save her. He will never forget the look in her eyes when she realized he wouldn’t be able to. Xavier could only watch as the most important thing in the world to him was taken away.

“They have what they came for.”

Tyronian looked over to Xavier at his tone, his eyes narrowed. “Where’s Leawyn?” Xavier looked away and didn’t answer his cousin. “Xavier, where is Namoriee?” At Xavier’s continued silence, Tyronian jerked him forward. “Where is she?” Tyronian yelled.

“She’s gone. They took her.”

“What do you mean they took her? Why?”

“We’ll get them back, Tyronian.” Xavier stumbled back when Tyronian suddenly released him. His cousin turned away, a shaking hand coming to run through his blond locks. “How?” Tyronian turned back to Xavier, wearing the same lost expression on his face that reflected Xavier’s own. “How can we find them when we can’t even find their base?”

“I can’t tell you—” Tyronian scoffed, turning away again. “But trust that we will. I have a plan,” Xavier finished, as if Tyronian never interrupted him. “Tyronian.”

Tyronian stopped his aggravated pacing and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do you love her? Your wife?”

“I’m incapable of love.” Xavier looked away, his teeth grinding together.

“She seems to think otherwise.”

“She’s wrong. I don’t love; I own,” Xavier said.

“Sometimes knowing the fall is over is harder to accept than the pain of impact once you reach the ground. The question is . . . will you forgive the person who pushed you?”

“I don’t have time for your riddles,” Xavier growled in annoyance.

“She should have left you a long time ago, and she didn’t. You tried to break her, yet she stands strong. You don’t deserve her, yet she stays.”

“She stays because I won’t let her leave.”

“She stays because she believes in you. If it were her wish to leave, she knows I would see it so.”

“You speak of treason,” Xavier accused, irrationally angry. “You’d betray your own chief and kin?”

“I’d do it for her,” Tyronian said unflinchingly. “Stop fighting with her, and start fighting
for
her.”

“Do you?” Xavier challenged, his only way of attack as he felt himself being backed into a corner and forced to confront the feelings he didn’t understand. “Namoriee will never agree to be yours. Not willingly.”

“Namoriee is the
only
thing I fight for. I knew she owned me the moment she was brought to us. So I’ll ask you again.” Tyronian took a step closer to Xavier, his face hardening as he jabbed a finger at him. “Will you forgive her? Because if you can’t, then just let her go. Let her find someone who deserves her love.”

At Xavier’s silence, Tyronian exhaled roughly, frustrated.

“Call me when your so-called plan is ready,” Tyronian muttered angrily as he brushed past him.

He was right; Xavier should let Leawyn go. As heartless as Xavier could be, he knew Leawyn deserved better. Her heart was pure, filled with innocence Xavier often tried to destroy. Xavier tried to let Leawyn go. In the only way he knew how. He recalled the night he was poisoned from the arrow. He was awake when she held the knife to his throat. He was weak, barely hanging onto consciousness, but he could have stopped her. And he didn’t. He was giving her a way out. No one would blame her. Xavier was going to let her kill him . . . but she didn’t.

“I tried to let her go.” Xavier called out. Tyronian froze. “In my own way,” Xavier told Tyronian when he slowly turned around to face him.

“How?”

Maybe it was wrong of him. Xavier knew Leawyn was pure, and good—too good to kill. So, then, he gave her another chance. It was the night before he gave her his mark—when Tristan offered to help her escape him. What Leawyn didn’t know was that Tristan didn’t offer out of the kindness of his heart.

“I had sent Tristan to set Leawyn free. He gave her a chance to runaway before I branded her,” Xavier admitted. Tyronian took a step toward him. “Maybe it was guilt, or—” Xavier grimanced, looking away from him. “Maybe it was the last bit of humanity I had that made me offer to do the very thing that brings me into a rage just thinking about letting her go.” Xavier clenched his fist, taking a moment to calm said rage. “I don’t know why I did it; all I know is that she didn’t run.” Xavier looked up, meeting his cousin’s stare head-on.

“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.