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

by Nicole René

  The icy look in his eyes caused fear to strike straight into her heart.

  “Xavier, I can ex—”

  Leawyn never got to finish. Quicker than a flash of lighting, the back of Xavier’s hand connected to her cheek.

  The force of the blow would have caused her to fall back if it wasn’t for the fact Xavier’s hand buried in her hair and tugged her upright.

  “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” He yanked her roughly around, his hand flying out and tightening around her throat. “You could have been killed!”

  Leawyn whimpered in pain, her chest heaving with fear. She’d never seen him this angry before.

  “How dare you try and leave me,” Xavier hissed, the red gaze of his anger clouding his eyes. His hand was squeezing her throat dangerously tight. All it would take was a little more pressure, and he could snap her windpipe.

  “Xavier...” Leawyn choked out, her weak attempts to pry his hand away growing even weaker. Her vision was clouding with little black spots, and she knew she was going to pass out if he didn’t let go.

  He watched as her struggles lessened, keeping his eyes on hers as they started to flutter closed. He lifted his arms, bringing her close enough so he could whisper in her ear. “When we get home, you’ll wish you never ran away.”

  It was the last thing Leawyn heard before she slipped into unconsciousness.

  Xavier charged into the camp his men had set up, sliding Killix into a quick stop, the horse he took to find Leawyn doing the same. Tyronian slowly sat up from where he was lying by one of the campfires, his eyes going to Leawyn’s unconscious form shrugged over the front of Killix’s saddle, then back to Xavier’s.

  “What happened?”

  Xavier said nothing, hopping off Killix and slinging Leawyn over his shoulder when he turned back to her.

  “Send a message for the rest of our men to be prepared to meet at Cortagaver when we return.”

  Tyronian followed closely behind Xavier. “Cortagaver? But that’s only used for—”

  “The marking ceremony,” he cut him off briskly. “Send the message.”

  Tyronian stopped, grabbing Xavier’s elbow and swinging him around.

  “Xavier…” he trailed off apprehensively, shaking his head. “You don’t mean to actually brand her, do you?”

  Xavier curled his lip, looking pointedly down at the hand holding his elbow prisoner. “What I do with my wife is none of your concern.” He shook off Tyronian’s hand and continued to his tent.

  “Xavier!” Tyronian shouted, jerking him to a stop yet again. “You can’t do that! That practice has not been used in a hundred winters. You can’t—”

  “I’m getting very tired of people telling me what I can and cannot do,” Xavier practically snarled, spinning around to throw Tyronian a furious glare.

  “She’s my wife! Mine! What I do to her is my business.”

  Tyronian reeled back in shock, and Xavier came right up to his face. “Now, your chief gave you an order. I expect you to follow it,” he said dangerously.

  Tyronian looked down at Leawyn, who was still draped carelessly over Xavier’s shoulders. “You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly. He gave Leawyn one last sad look before turning and doing what his chief asked.

  Xavier stared after him, his jaw ticking in anger. Growling in annoyance, he turned on his heel and continued to his tent.

  It was time to take care of his wife.

  Leawyn blinked her eyes open, taking in the dark room around her in confusion.

  Then she remembered.

  Asten.

  Xavier.

  She gasped, hands flying up to her throat and wincing.

  “Leawyn.”

  She stiffened, her eyes shooting to the corner of the room. The shadowed form of Xavier made her heart race.

  “Xavier, please I was just—” Leawyn winced again. Her throat felt scratchy, and it hurt to talk.

  “I’m not interested in your excuses, Wife.” Xavier slowly stood up, his face outlined by the fire as he took a step forward.

  “You disobeyed me.” He took another step, and Leawyn clenched the sheets beneath her, shrinking back as he grew closer.

  Swallowing around her fear, she spoke. “I didn’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he growled.

  “Xavier, please, I—”

  Leawyn gasped in pain when Xavier reached down, quickly gathering her up into his arms.

  “You ran away!” he roared, shaking her and tightening his grip around her arms until they bruised. “I took a chance, and you ran away from me.”

  “I was going to come back!” Leawyn cried out.

  Xavier snarled, throwing her down on the bed roughly. She yelped when his weight settled on her, grasping her wrists and slamming them above her head. He grabbed her chin, jerking her face up until they were nose to nose, his dark eyes boring into hers.

  “I trusted you,” he said, his voice dark.

  Leawyn squeezed her eyes shut against the betrayal she heard in his voice. “I know. I’m sorry,” she whispered, lips trembling.

  Xavier leaned forward, taking her lips in a brutal kiss, expressing everything he couldn’t say. He pulled back, grabbing the front of her dress. With one sharp tug sideways, it ripped in half.

  “You will be,” he hissed in her ear right before he flipped her over. With a fistful of her hair to hold her steady, a quick thrust of his hips was all it took for him to fill her.

  It was relentless and painful, just like their wedding night.

  And Leawyn took it, because somewhere in her heart, she knew she had hurt him.

  “I’ll let you do it.”

  Leawyn jumped, whirling around. Her eyes landed on Tristan, who looked at her with an odd expression. She frowned.

  “What?”

  “Leave,” Tristan said, nodding behind her to her horse. “I won’t stop you this time.”

  Leawyn’s eyes followed him, tilting her head back when he came to stand in front of her.

  “Leave. Before it’s too late.”

  “He’d find me,” Leawyn whispered.

  “He won’t,” he promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She studied Tristan, gauging to see if he was serious or not. He met her eyes calmly.

  “This isn’t a trick, Leawyn. I should have helped you that night at the camp. Your mare is saddled and ready.” Tristan lifted his hand, and she was startled to see he held up a thick bag.

  “This has everything you need for you to reach the sea. From there, you can catch a merchant ship and sail far from this land, to wherever you wish.” Tristan held the bag out to her, and, on instinct, Leawyn took it.

  “You’d be betraying your brother…”

  “I don’t care,” Tristan replied bluntly. “He’s going to mark you, Leawyn. It will be painful, humiliating, and binding. You need to leave. If you don’t go now…you’ll be his forever.” He cupped her cheeks with both palms, bending to ensnare her eyes with his.

  “Go, Leawyn. Run.”

  She turned away, looking down at the lights of her village. The setting sun created a brilliant collage of colors, making the Izayges village shimmer. They had arrived earlier that morning, the marking ceremony set to take place as soon as the moon was up. Leawyn felt anxiety just thinking about it. Every male—young and old—would bear witness to Xavier branding her with his mark. It was to ensure all the males saw she was irrevocably his.

  She looked down at the pack in her hand. She was silent for a long while, until, finally, she sighed. It was a heavy sigh, filled with conflicting emotions and desires.

  “He told me what would happen.” Leawyn turned back around to face Tristan. “He gave me a chance to refuse.”

  “Leawyn...”

  “It’s my choice, Tristan. I accept responsibility for my actions.” She offered the bag back to him, who took it reluctantly. She smiled—a swift upturn of her lips that quickly smoothed back into a grim line.


  As she walked away, Tristan called out to her. “You’ll regret this.”

  Leawyn paused, looking at him over her shoulder. “I know.” After giving him another half-hearted smile, she walked out of sight.

  “Please, Xavier, don’t make me go through this,” Leawyn trembled softly, her whispered plea too quiet for the men around them to hear.

  “I’m sorry,” Xavier said, caressing her bruised cheek with the back of his hand. “But you already tried to run twice.”

  He didn’t say anything more, just wrapped his right arm across her chest while the other cut a slit up her ceremonial dress, exposing her leg and hip bone in response.

  “I’m yours; you know I am!” she begged desperately.

  “It will be quick. The more you struggle, the more painful it will be,” Xavier said, his voice low in her ear. Kissing the side of her head softly, he tightened his grip around her when she tensed in fearful anticipation. Reaching to the side of him, he gripped the heated prod and brought it over so it hovered between them.

  Leawyn turned her head away, the heat from the iron spreading across her skin. Her eyes met the stony faces of Tyronian and Tristan. Tyronian openly showed his anger, his jaw locked.

  She whimpered pitifully when Xavier said the joining incantation.

  “I can’t watch this,” Tyronian ground out, clenching his eyes shut and turning his head away.

  “You have to watch it. It’s the tradition,” Tristan murmured. “If you leave now, she will have to endure it again. Every man must bear witness.”

  Tyronian exhaled shakily and returned his gaze to Leawyn.

  She held Tristan’s and Tyronian’s gazes until the searing, wrought iron symbol sizzled into her skin, making her screech and buck wildly against the pain.

  Her scream was so filled with deep, horrified, anguish, it echoed throughout the village. It was a sound Tyronian knew would haunt him for the rest of his life. She continued to scream until her voice became hoarse and her body couldn't take it anymore. They watched as she slumped against Xavier’s form, unconscious.

  One by one the village men left until only Tristan remained. Tyronian was the first to leave, unable to bear the sight of his cousin’s slumped form and the lingering scent of her burnt flesh.

  “I hope you’re happy now, Brother,” Tristan said, staring down at Leawyn, her blonde hair bright against her pale, sweat-soaked skin.

  “You’ve officially ruined her for any man who would have taken your place when you perish.”

  Xavier slowly looked up to meet Tristan’s gaze. “Ruined her for other men…or you?”

  Tristan said nothing in reply and stormed away.

  Xavier once again looked down to Leawyn, staring at the still steaming mark of his forefathers.

  A horse’s head with its mane blowing in the wind, taking shape of a woman.

  “Mine,” Xavier whispered.

  When Leawyn awoke, the first thing she registered was the pain. It was sharp and fiery, causing instant tears to gather in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. Moving was agony, and when she tried, she yelped at the sharp pain.

  “Lady Chief,” the soft voice was sweet and tearful.

  Leawyn blinked her eyes open, vision hazy until it cleared and she met Namoriee’s eyes. Seeing the anxiety and sadness in Namoriee’s gaze, Leawyn burst into tears.

  She felt herself being wrapped up carefully into Namoriee’s tiny arms in a comforting embrace. Every heavy heave of her sobs caused the pain in her hip to flare up with a vengeance, but she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. Leawyn simply clung to her handmaiden’s arms, and bawled.

  It was how her husband found them when he walked into the hut. He paused, taking in the scene in silence. Leawyn watched him hesitate, then harden his gaze with his decision. “Namoriee.”

  Namoriee stiffened, glancing up fearfully at Xavier. The dead, emotionless face made her shiver, and Leawyn clung to her a little tighter.

  “Leave,” Xavier ordered. Namoriee paused, glancing down at Leawyn with uncertainty. Clearly her loyalties were conflicted.

  “Now,” Xavier said darkly, leveling her with a piercing look.

  Namoriee closed her eyes in defeat, and slowly stood up, untangling from Leawyn when she gripped her tighter.

  “I’m sorry,” Namoriee whispered, finally managing to get out of her grasp. Leawyn noticed she didn’t make eye contact as she passed her chief and silently closed the door.

  Leawyn hugged herself, bowing her head so her hair shielded her face. She flinched away when Xavier went to tuck her hair behind her ear. He scowled down at her; she could see his anger quickly mounting.

  “Get out,” Leawyn whispered.

  “No,” Xavier refused.

  “Get out!” she screamed at him, lashing out and slapping him across his face.

  Xavier’s nostrils flared, his face twisting in rage as his eyes grew icy. “Do that again, and you’ll regret it,” he warned menacingly.

  “Why?” Leawyn challenged, a slightly deranged look in her eye. “You’ll hit me?” She slapped him again, then leaned forward, tilting her head to looked up at him. “You’ll punish me? Mark me?”

  “Leawyn,” he growled threateningly, flinching as her hand connected with his cheek again.

  “Leave bruises on my body?” she screeched shrilly. “Well, too late for that—you already did!” she shouted, and slapped him in the face yet again. Hard. Her anger fueling her.

  Smack!

  Xavier snapped.

  With a savage snarl on his face, he grasped her shoulders and threw her down.

  “I hate you,” Leawyn tossed her head back and laughed humorlessly.

  It was a hideous laugh, deep and dark and unhinged. “I hate you,” she gasped, still laughing. “I hate you.”

  “Stop,” Xavier growled, his face red with his fury. Grasping her shoulders again in a tight grip, he shook her hard, her head wobbling back and forth from the force. It only caused her to cackle louder.

  “I hate you!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, getting in his face.

  “You hate me?” Xavier seethed, lifting her up. “Huh?” He shook her again, his anger completely out of control. “Do you?” he bellowed, the vein in his neck bulging.

  “Yes!” Leawyn cried back, refusing to flinch away from him. “I hate you! I’ve always hated you, and I always will.” Her lips twisted up in scorn. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

  “But you didn’t, and that was your mistake.”

  Their bodies heaved together, their breaths coming out in sharp, quick outbursts.

  Like a whip, they both snapped.

  Their lips crashed together in a kiss, their teeth clinking together as their tongues battled. Leawyn took Xavier’s bottom lip, and sunk down until she could almost feel her teeth meeting together. He let out a shout, yanking his head back.

  She met his gaze defiantly, her breaths coming out in gasps. He snarled, shoving his hands between her legs, until his fingers dove into her warm heat.

  “You don’t hate me when I do this, do you?” His thumb brushed against her nub before sliding his fingers into her warmth. Leawyn moaned, her body spasming against the pressure.

  Xavier shifted so she lay on her back, his hand still buried inside her, pumping furiously. He pulled back, just enough to slide his finger out so he could add another, and shoved them both back into her roughly.

  Leawyn yelped at both the intrusion and the pain as her hips bucked. Her burn mark stretching painfully, her legs spread wider as Xavier nestled between them. He leaned forward, his body flush against hers as he bit her neck, hard.

  “I own you,” Xavier growled. “Everything belongs to me.” He slid his other hand beneath her, lifting her hips enough so his thumb brushed against her anal entrance. “You might hate me, but your body doesn’t.” He brushed the fingers of his other hand against her clit, while his thumb pressed in, filling her.

  Leawyn screamed, her body convulsing agai
nst her orgasm.

  Xavier pulled his hand away. Leaning back on his knees, he lifted her body up, then slammed her down on his length in one hard pull. Not giving her body time to get used to the intrusion, he continued to thrust up against her, pulling out almost all the way, and then slamming into her again.

  Her eyes rolled back into her head from the painful pleasure of it, her mouth opened in a silent scream as he plowed into her relentlessly. His big hands gripped the inside of her thighs as he sprawled her out, opening her wide for him. Her body jerked forward with each powerful thrust of his hips. The sound of his length pushing into her warm crevice mixed with their grunts and moans.

  The intensity of it was almost too much for Leawyn. Their bodies grew slick with sweat, making it hard for them to stay together. She slid away from him with each jerking motion of his hips.

  Xavier reached out and grabbed her throat, holding her down as he used one hand under her ass to lift her hips up, making him go deeper. His pelvic bone bumped her clitoris with each stroke.

  “Give it to me,” he grunted, continuing his brutal thrusts into her slick, tight body.

  Leawyn moaned loudly, shaking her head. He bared his teeth as he gripped her neck tighter. “Give it to me.”

  “No!” she shouted defiantly, choking against his hold, and if anything, his thrusts grew more powerful, rocking her to her core.

  He moved so his weight was resting on his arm; using his grip around her neck, he forced it back so her chest was arched up to him.

  The stroke of his tongue against her nipple made her convulse around him. The nip of his teeth made her scream. And when his hand left her neck to pinch her nub—

  She shattered.

  The very moment Leawyn’s scream ripped out of her throat, Xavier lost the battle and came in giant bursts inside of her. He slumped against her.

  As they both tried to catch their breath, her body still shook with the aftershocks of her climax.