How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1) (5 page)

“Wake up, Leawyn,” the boy whispered in her ear.

She blinked open her eyes, looking up at him drowsily. “Your village is just up the hill.” He nodded his head forward, gently setting Leawyn down onto her feet.

She smiled as she caught site of her lit-up village, instantly feeling relieved. She was quick to run off, but just before she reached the top of the hill, she stopped to look over her shoulder when the boy did not follow.

“Are you not coming?” Leawyn asked, confused.

The boy silently shook his head. “This is not my home.”

“But why—”

“You should go. I can hear them looking for you,” the boy said calmly. Leawyn tilted her small head and listened. Her eyes widened when she heard he was right; they were looking for her.

“Go,” the boy urged when the voices grew louder.

Leawyn nodded before she turned on her heel and once again started her way up to her village. She paused, whipping around with her mouth open, ready to ask him his name. She shut it abruptly.

No one was there.

The boy was gone.

Leawyn searched with her eyes a moment more to see where he might have gone, but after not finding him, she shrugged and continued up the hill.

It never occurred to her to ask how the boy knew her name when she never told him.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING,
Leawyn lay frozen, staring above unseeingly at the ceiling of the hut as Xavier moved against her, the sounds of his groans of pleasure filling the silence. Her body moved with his movements, the thrusts quick, hard, and unrelenting as he held her legs captive, hooked around his forearms.

Leawyn tried desperately to hold in her winces of pain at his rough treatment. Her hands clenched around the bed furs beneath her. Her knuckles turned white at how tightly she held them. Her body, still unused to the act of pleasure, was ablaze with pain. Every time Xavier thrust inside of her, it felt as if a heated dagger was spearing her insides with brutal intensity. Leawyn squeezed her eyes shut. Tears of pain escaped from behind her closed eyelids, leaving a trail down her cheek.

Xavier’s new wife cried out when he tightened his grip around her and pulled her forward sharply to meet his thrusts. He looked down at her, taking in her wide, frightened eyes. Her long hair was sprawled out on top of the pillow, and her back arched as he buried himself deep within her.

She was beautiful in his eyes, and he had no plans of ever letting her go.

Finally, he stilled, his body shuddering with his release. He collapsed on top of Leawyn, still completely astonished at the amount of pleasure her young, supple body provided. Xavier groaned, shuddering from his climax. The feeling of her untouched body clenching around him as it forced itself to accommodate him and his length drove him mad. She was so tight and warm around him it was almost painful.

Xavier nuzzled his wife’s neck, smirking when she shivered in reaction but otherwise did not pull away from him.

“You are learning,” he said smugly, his voice low as he kissed her neck.

She stiffened further when he moved his lips across her jaw. She jerked her head away with a glare when he went to capture her lips with his own. He stared down at her, his eyes boring into hers in warning when he dipped his head to capture her lips again.

He reached out and grabbed her jaw in one hand, a fistful of her hair in the other. He leveled his furious glare with her own as he tilted her head up more.

“Why do you turn from me?” he asked in his deep, raspy voice. “Why do you deny me the touch of your lips, knowing they belong to me?”

Leawyn’s eyes flashed. “They’ll never belong to you,” she hissed between clenched teeth as she struggled to release the pressure of his hand from her hair.

Xavier’s expression became dangerous at her words. Did she not know that everything she was belonged to him now? She was his wife. His to own and possess.

His lips curled with a snarl as he shoved her down harder against the bed. He caught her wrists when she went to hit him, holding them high above her head.

“Everything you are belongs to me, Leawyn. You’ll do well to remember that,” he told her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, ignoring her flinch when his hands touched her cheek. “Now be a good girl,” Xavier warned, dipping his head down to her lips.

This time, when he went to kiss her, she did not pull away.

Xavier pushed away from her quickly, uncaring of his nudity as he walked across the room to dress.

“Clean yourself up. We’re going.” And without a backward glance at her, he left.

Leawyn lay on the bed for a moment longer before she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. Taking a moment to collect herself, she stood up, whimpering at the pain between her thighs. Looking down, she saw her thighs were smeared with blood. Leawyn looked away, unable to bare the sight.

Gingerly, she made her way across the room until she stopped at the large basin of water there. Cupping her hands together, she plunged them into the cold liquid and splashed the glistening drops against her face. Leawyn dipped her hands into the water again and paused when she saw her reflection.

With a shaking hand, she fingered the bruises on her chin, the black and blue marks of fingerprints contrasting against her pale skin. Her hand trailed down, tracing her fingertips over the bruises on her neck.

Leawyn bit her lip, blinking away her tears so she could continue the survey of her body. She gave a muffled sob as her hands skimmed over her hips. Looking down, she noticed the fresh bruises there too. Bruises in the shape of fingerprints.

His fingerprints.

His mark.

His ownership.

Leawyn felt sore and stiff, as if she had been used. Well, she had, hadn’t she?

Her face contorted in anger, and with a shout, she knocked the basin of water over. She watched as it crashed to the floor, the water soaked up by the animal skins littering the surface.

Her anger faded away, and all she was left with was the feeling of disgust for herself and the man she was forced to marry. Leawyn’s shoulders shook and, no longer able to hold herself up, she collapsed onto her knees and crumbled to the floor. Her forehead met her hands as she wept.

TWO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER . . .

“O
UR SCOUTS HAVE
been reporting strange movements from these locations,” Tristan said as he pointed to the areas on the map. “We don’t know who they are or their reason for being on our land, but it’s only a matter of time before they reach our borders.”

Xavier sat silently, his face impassive as he processed the information Tristan provided. They were back in the Izayges village inside the war-hut, which housed maps of the land and where Xavier spent most of his time. The hut had three tables inside, two of which were pushed far against the wall that overflowed with various maps and rolled parchment. A long oak table was placed in the center of the room with several chairs neatly tucked in. The far wall held a flat timber Tristan had used to pin the map of their southern borders. Xavier leaned back in his chair, gripping the table corner and glared at the map in front of him, as if staring at it would give him the answers he sought. “Any chance of them being friendly travelers?”

Tristan shook his head. “I’ve never seen travelers equipped with that amount of armor and moving in such a large group.”

“Send a message to all the patrols,” Xavier finally said as he pushed himself away from the table. “Do not raise the alarm yet, but tell them to heed caution.”

“What else will you have me do?” Tristan asked. Tristan knew him well enough to know he had more planned than just sending a warning.

Xavier allowed a small smirk to tilt his lips up when he glanced at Tristan. “We’ll ride out ourselves. I need to know for myself and make judgment,” Xavier told him, looking to the map again. “I won’t risk war on the assumption they’re a threat.”

“And if they are?” Tristan asked, raising a brow.

“Then we give them something to really fear before they die.”

With a quick flick of Xavier’s wrist, the knife he held flew across the table and landed directly in the middle of the map they were both looking at.

“I’ll ready the men, then.” Tristan bowed his head in acknowledgment, quickly leaving the hut to carry out his chief’s orders.

Xavier stared at the dagger lodged into the wood. Knowing Tristan, the men would be ready to leave by nightfall. With no certainty of how long Xavier and his company would be gone, it meant he would be away from Leawyn for an unidentified amount of time. For a reason unknown to him, that particular thought did nott bode well. Xavier didn’t want to be without her, and the thought of another man looking after her well-being while he was gone made his fists clench in anger and the bitter taste of jealously fill his mouth.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed. No doubt she would welcome the company and take advantage of his absence. Xavier growled as he marched to the map and ripped the knife from the wood savagely.

No
, Xavier thought as he left the tent and stalked past the many people in his village. They gave him a wide berth as he headed straight for the hut which contained his new wife. She would definitely not be alone.

She’d never have the option to be with another man, or take advantage of the chance to escape him. If he were to ever catch another man gazing at his wife with the same lust that ran through his veins whenever his eyes met her own, it would be that man’s death.

Leawyn would go with him and his men.

The possessiveness of his thoughts startled him. Never before had he felt this strongly about a woman.

What is she doing to me?

Even more aggravated than before, Xavier practically wrenched the door off his hut.