Falling Warriors Series Collection (Books 1, 2 & 1.5)

by Nicole René

  Asten tilted his head in slight acknowledgment before his furious eyes turned to her attacker. His gaze narrowed, and he snarled as he dug his fingers into the man’s throat, causing him to choke.

  “The lady said no,” Asten told him calmly, but his voice was thick with malice. Her attacker’s eyes widened, his face flushed from the lack of oxygen. “I-I-I’m s-so—”

  “I’m not interested in excuses,” he snarled, and without a second thought, he quickly crushed the man’s windpipe with a sickening crunch.

  Leawyn let out a strangled scream when Asten dropped the dead body to the ground, his eyes forever frozen wide with shock and fear.

  She looked away from the corpse and back up to her childhood friend as he positioned himself in front of her. He pulled out his wickedly curved sword, pointing it to the men still gathered around.

  Asten looked over his shoulder down at her, his eyes flashing.

  “Run,” he ordered before he swung his blade up and cut off the arm of the closest man standing next to him.

  She screamed again as the men all around her charged at Asten, who quickly matched their attacks with a viciousness she’d never seen from him before.

  Leawyn quickly stood to follow his advice when she saw one come at him from behind.

  “Asten!” she yelled out in warning and, without thinking, swiped a dagger from a recent corpse and threw it forward.

  Asten swung around with his sword poised above him, but faltered when a knife suddenly protruded through the throat of his potential attacker, who then fell at his feet.

  He looked at Leawyn, bewildered. She felt just as shocked as he looked. “I thought I told you to run?” Asten quipped.

  “I…” Leawyn trailed off when more shouts sounded out behind her—shouts of pain and fear.

  Since Asten was here with her, she knew only one other man who could cause a reaction like that.

  “Xavier,” she sighed in relief. Turning her head, she addressed her first savior. “Asten, my husband is—”

  Leawyn choked on her words, eyes taking in the space where Asten had been standing.

  He was gone.

  Xavier snarled when he saw the blurs of men in front of him. His vision turned red in his rage. He didn’t feel when he threw himself off his wife’s mare and tackled the first man he saw. He pulled his arm back and sent his fist sailing into the man’s face. The blow instantly killed the man by breaking his nose and pushing the fractured bone into his brain. It was less than a second before he was on to the next man, swiftly cutting the head off his body.

  Xavier was a flurry of motion, his sword stained red with blood as he ruthlessly cut down every man who came between him and his wife. He didn’t flinch or feel the blood that splattered on his face and armor. His rage was all-consuming, and it was no time at all until he stood outside of a crudely made tent.

  He felt his gut clench. His instinct told him his prize was inside that tent.

  Six pairs of eyes met Xavier when he walked inside. They all had their swords and daggers pointed at him, but he paid them no mind. His sole focus was on his wife and the man holding a sword to her throat.

  “Put yer sword down or I’ll cut ‘er!” the man holding Leawyn hostage ordered crudely, tightening his grip on his wife.

  Xavier glanced over at Leawyn. He took in her split lip, every cut and bruise on her beautiful body and face, and the fact that her hair was matted to her cheek by her blood. Her shoulder was hanging at an odd angle, and he knew it was dislocated. He was instantly filled with more rage.

  “Release her.” His growl was almost inhuman.

  The man holding his wife trembled with fear. Rightfully so. Xavier knew he was a sight to see covered in blood from head to toe. His shiny gold and black armor was now completely red, and his long hair stuck together with both sweat and blood. One strand was literally dripping with it. His face was specked with blood, but none of it his. He felt every bit the fearsome warrior the stories made him out to be.

  “I said drop it!” her captor yelled again. He jerked Leawyn by her hair and arched her throat so that it was right on top of the blade; a thin trail of blood pooled and slid off the gleaming steel.

  Xavier stiffened, his eyes zeroing in on his wife’s dripping blood. He looked back up.

  “Wrong move,” he growled, and in the blink of an eye, Leawyn found Xavier’s sword through her attacker’s head, pinning him to the post behind him so he was still standing.

  She screamed when brain matter and blood coated her locks and splashed in her face.

  It was her reaction that spurred all the men to attack Xavier at once, thinking they had the advantage since he was without a weapon.

  They could not have been more wrong.

  It seemed like only moments before Leawyn found herself wrapped in her husband’s arms after he disposed of the men who had snuck up on her from behind after Asten disappeared. Did Asten already know Xavier was outside taking care of the other men, and that was why he left her alone? When she thought about Asten and Xavier meeting and having to explain to her husband how she knew him...it caused a shiver to go down her spine. Xavier was over-the-top possessive of her. He would kill Asten.

  Xavier crushed her to his chest, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts.

  “Leawyn,” Xavier breathed out in relief. His muscles instantly relaxed as soon as she was safe in his arms.

  “Are you badly hurt?” he asked gruffly, but even Leawyn could hear the concern in his voice.

  Silently, she shook her head but didn’t resist when his hands traveled over her to check and reassure himself.

  “I knew you’d come for me.”

  Xavier froze, slowly raising his eyes to look into hers. She met his stare evenly, and despite her black eye, her eyes shone beautifully.

  “I knew you would save me,” Leawyn whispered.

  She kept eye contact when his calloused hand rested on her cheek, gently moving his thumb to wipe away blood.

  “Always,” Xavier promised, his voice low and rough. “I’ll always come and save you, Leawyn.”

  Her smile immediately turned into a wince when the action caused her split lip to stretch and reopen.

  Xavier scowled at the sight. He dipped down and swung her into his arms with ease and carried her out of the tent and over to her horse. She let out a tired sigh and rested her head against his chest as he walked. They were almost to her horse, who whinnied loudly when she saw him carrying her mistress. She stared over Xavier’s massive shoulders, thinking about the man who had saved her first.

  Asten...

  Xavier and Deydrey burst into the village. He held a motionless Leawyn close to his chest.

  “Get the healer immediately,” Xavier ordered.

  “She’s already waiting inside,” Tristan assured his brother, glancing down at the beaten body of his sister.

  “Lady Chief!” a small voice cried out, running up to Xavier. Garnette slipped out of Tyronian’s grasp when he tried to grab her to stop her.

  “Lady Chief! I’m so sorry!” Garnette cried when she looked up to see how hurt Leawyn was.

  Xavier stopped and looked down at the child, a bit surprised at her reaction, but more annoyed she was slowing him down to take his wife to the healer.

  “Garnette, let go,” Castic said, his voice calm, even though it was clear he was trying his best not to cry at the sight of his lady chief, too. The young boy gently pulled Garnette way from Leawyn before picking the small girl up as she cried into his chest.

  Xavier gave the boy a nod as he quickly resumed his pace to his hut.

  “Lay her down here,” the old healer ordered when Xavier, Tristan, and Tyronian walked in. She pushed them aside impatiently, bending down to examine Leawyn, frowning in concentration.

  “Her head is badly cut,” the healer murmured. “Namoriee, bring me my mixing bowl.”

  Namoriee quickly did as the healer bid, handing the bowl and herbs to her. She gasped when she saw Leawy
n’s face, her eyes pooling with tears. Her face was much more swollen than when Xavier first found her. Her left eye was a dark blue and purple, looking close to swelling shut, and her split lip was puffy.

  The healer ordered Namoriee to take care of her lip and eye, and Xavier noticed the slight tremble in Namoriee’s small hand as she spread different kind of pastes on his wife’s face. It killed Xavier to simply watch as both the tribe healer and Namoriee worked on his wife. He had trouble keeping his face stoic and keeping a grip on his emotions. He didn’t know how to deal with this feeling of helplessness and rage.

  The rustling of herbs and the quiet directions the healer gave Namoriee were the only sounds inside the hut. Tristan, Tyronian and Xavier stayed out of the healer’s way, all three of them staring down at Leawyn’s prone form with the need to seek vengeance.

  Finally, the healer stood with a sigh. She looked to Xavier. “The bruises will heal. Her head had a deep cut in the back of it, which I had to sew shut. You will have to administer her medicine to try and fight infection. But she should be fine.”

  “Thank you,” Xavier said gruffly, and the healer nodded before taking her leave.

  Xavier noticed Namoriee standing off to the side, shifting nervously. She seemed to want to say something but was hesitant to do so. Finally, her spine straightened, a look of determination on her face. The girl finally walked up to him.

  “I gave her a s-s-sleeping draught. She will need rest in order to heal.” Namoriee paused, faltering slightly, before she continued. “Sh-she does not need more done to her than what she has a-a-already endured. She needs gentle caring for, and it would be wise to r-r-remember that.”

  Xavier raised his brow at the slight girl. It was a politely spoken threat.

  Namoriee bowed to her chief and scurried out of the room. The three men followed her with their eyes, in shock and grudging respect. It didn’t slip Xavier’s notice how Tyronian’s eyes lingered on her and the door she slipped out of with a different kind of emotion altogether.

  "Tell me again, Asten..." Leawyn whispered, turning her head slightly to look up at her best friend lying beside her whose arm she was using as a pillow. "Tell me again about the fallen warriors and their horses."

  Asten chuckled, shaking his head a little, turning his attention away from the stars and down into Leawyn's blue eyes. "You've heard this legend many times; I imagine you know it by heart. You tell me!"

  Leawyn smiled sweetly up at him. "But I like the way you tell it; I could never tell the tale like you can."

  Asten smirked, raising his other arm to push a lock of gold hair away from her eyes. "Well, that's because these aren't tales, Lea; it's our history." Asten heaved a big sigh, pretending to be annoyed. "But very well, I will tell you since you seem to need another history lesson."

  Leawyn smiled and rested her head back on his arm. Her attention turned to the stars. They were both lying in their spot, using the horses’ blankets to lie on the sand as they star-gazed.

  Once Asten knew Lea was comfortable he began, “There was once a great warrior who protected all the land, before it was divided into tribes. His name was—"

  "Saviero," Leawyn whispered.

  "Yes, Saviero. Now Saviero was a quiet, intimidating man. He was over seven feet tall, with hands as big as an axe, equipped with the skill to crush any enemies’ brains out!"

  He laughed at Leawyn's disgusted look.

  "Saviero was legendary for his skills in battle, second only to the God of War, whom he himself was a part of. The God had used his skin to shape Saviero and passed on some of his knowledge of warfare. Being the successor, Saviero was considered unstoppable."

  Asten paused, staring at the stars for a bit until he turned his attention down to Leawyn. "But though Saviero was made from a God, he was still a man, mortal, and with mortality, there is death," Asten said in a grave voice.

  "It was on a day the sun was not shining that Saviero met his fate when an army came and invaded his beloved land. The townspeople, not accustomed to protecting themselves and not prepared to fight, were being slaughtered.

  "Saviero tried his best to fight the army off, to save his townspeople, but he was one man, and there were many. Terrified for his people, Saviero ran to the forest looking for the mage hidden there. He ran deep into the forest, but instead of the mage he was searching for, he came across the great Goddess, Ianna, who was known for warfare and her...sexual love." Asten grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Leawyn rolled her eyes.

  "Upon seeing the Goddess, Saviero sighed with relief and hope. 'Please, Goddess, help me save my people!' Saviero pled. The beautiful Goddess just smiled at Saviero.

  “'What will it do for me to save your people,' she asked, 'when there is nothing for me, and I have no attachment to the lives of your kin?’

  "Saviero's heart was heavy with dread; he could hear the screams of his people dying in the background, and he was desperate to save them. 'My goddess, I will do anything if you but save them!' Saviero cried.

  “But Ianna just smiled again; her eyes cold as she stared at the warrior her kin made. 'I will answer your prayer,' she said, 'but it will be at the price of you.'

  “Without hesitating, Saviero replied, 'Anything. I will give you anything.'

  “Saviero then named off all the riches he could think of, promising the Goddess animals, jewels and clothes that he would give her in return—”

  "I always hate this part," Leawyn whispered, shivering from the cold. Asten paused to reach over and wrap his cloak around her.

  "Aye, but it is part of the history I cannot skip," Asten sighed and continued his tale. “'I do not want any of those things,' Ianna interrupted, and Saviero's heart broke. 'I will give you three of my war horses, whose strength will be able to conquer any who threaten you now. You will keep them for three years.'

  “Saviero's heart swelled with happiness, and his relief over the knowledge that his people would be saved made him weak. Saviero crumpled to his knees in front of the Goddess, bowing to her in his gratitude.

  “But the cunning Goddess was not done. 'In return, you will give yourself to me, Saviero, fully. I will take you, and you will be mine for all eternity. You will love no one else but me, and after the three years are up, no one will remember your name. That is the price you will pay for me to save your people.'

  “Saviero was crushed, for he was a man who enjoyed his freedom and longed to be legendary, but he knew if he didn't take her offer, the people he'd cared for and grown to love would perish, so he agreed, and she took him then and there.

  “She used her magic to overcome his grief and instead gave him unimaginable pleasure in their joining. Once finished, she took her dagger and slit her wrist so that only three drops of blood fell, which shaped into four massive black horses.

  “'Go now with Rhoxolani, Asori, and Siraces to defeat this threat,' Ianna said, watching as Saviero quickly dressed, mounted one of the war horses and galloped away. But Ianna, who was also known for her trickery, did not tell Saviero what would become of him if he were to disobey and give himself to another, for he did not ask. If he did that, Saviero would be damned."

  "I don't want to hear the rest; just skip to the good part." Leawyn yawned, rolling so she was completely on her side, snuggled into Asten's chest.

  Asten grinned, putting his arm around her. "You don't want to hear about the battle?"

  Leawyn shook her head. "Too gruesome."

  Asten chuckled again but shrugged. "Very well. I'll skip the battle."

  "And so, with Ianna's gift, Saviero was able to defeat the army attacking his village. For two years he kept his promise to Ianna; he did not love or give himself to any other, but one day during one of the raids, he saved a girl.

  "Though the girl was not beautiful, Saviero was drawn to her. She was the lightness in his dark world, and it was fairly quickly that she fell in love with him. No matter how much Saviero tried, he could not keep his mind off her. One night his strong hold of self-
control snapped, and they made love on the beach. As she whispered that she loved him, Saviero could not hold the words in his heart, and returned the sentiment. And together they fell asleep, with his arms wrapped around his love.

  "Later that night, a sharp pain woke Saviero, and not wanting to wake his love, he stumbled to his feet and walked further down the beach. Soon the pain became too much, and he crumbled onto all fours, howling at the moon.

  “'You disobeyed me, Saviero. You have given yourself and your heart to another,' the Goddess Ianna said, appearing in front of him, staring down at him with cold eyes.

  “'Ianna! My Goddess, please! I am only yours!'

  “Ianna, furious over his lie, snarled, 'You are not, and because of that, you will learn what happens when you break a promise to me!'

  “Saviero screamed in agony as the pain became unbearable, and before his eyes his hands turned into hoofs, and his hair grew into a mane. And before long he was changed completely into one of the black war horses Ianna gifted him with.

  “'Now you will roam these lands as a war horse that I promised you, knowing your love will never know who you are, and your people will forget you. For you are no longer Saviero, hero of Samira. You are now Izayges, my servant and war horse forever.'

  “With those parting words, Ianna disappeared, leaving her new beast on the beach. He stayed there and cried, but instead of a man's cry, it was a whinny of a stallion.

  "The end!" Asten proclaimed, grinning.

  Leawyn sat up fully, glaring down at him. "That's not the end, and you know it! Finish the story!"

  Asten shook his head, smirking. "But Lea, you already know the rest; why do I need to tell you?"

  Leawyn frowned and slapped his chest, causing Asten to laugh.

  "Asten!" Leawyn whined, her lips forming in a pout.

  With that look, Asten stopped his teasing, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll finish."