How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1)

by Nicole René

  “The more you fight, the more painful I’ll make it,” Xavier snarled down at her, his eyes alight with his lust. He continued his pace, pulling out and slamming back in with quick succession. The sounds of his flesh slapping against her flesh reverberated in the room.

  “Please . . .” Leawyn sobbed her last attempt to reach out to whatever humanity Xavier had left.

  Xavier paused, and before Leawyn could hope for much, he pulled back and simply flipped her over, forcing her onto her stomach. His hand gripped her around her neck as he forced her face down onto the pillow, holding her still while he wrapped his arm underneath her stomach and arched her hips up so she was on her knees.

  “I gave you a choice,” Xavier hissed into her ear, then he thrust into her so hard and deep, Leawyn felt his balls rest flush against the crevice of her skin.

  The pillow masked her screams and caught the tears that ran down her cheeks as the flight left her completely. She lay beneath him, defeated.

  Later that night, Leawyn lay stiffly in bed with Xavier’s arm thrown possessively over her waist. Even in sleep, he controlled her. Possessed her. She tried desperately to hold in her sobs.

  There was no going back after tonight, no escaping him.

  She was his.

  Forever.

  And Leawyn cried.

  She cried for the freedom she lost, and the life she was forced to have.

  She cried for her home, and she cried for the pain he made her feel.

  But most of all, she cried because when she closed her eyes, she saw the hazel ones that belonged to the one she will miss the most.

  The sun shone bright above, causing the ocean’s blue and green hues to sparkle from the reflective rays. The sound of seagulls squawking high overhead did nothing to diminish the tinkling sound of a child’s joyous laughter as she chased after the waves.

  Her blonde hair glowed bright as it caught the sun. The imprints of her feet marked the sand before the waves playfully drew them away, continuing the never-ending game of catch.

  Leawyn giggled to herself and stared down at her feet as she squished her toes into the wet sand until they were buried. She watched in fascination as the water came and rinsed the sand away.

  She should be back at her village with her caretaker, who was probably very upset with her for sneaking off, but Leawyn wanted to play, not do chores.

  Growing tired of her game, she walked over to the dry part of sand and flopped down onto her back. She watched as seagulls flew overhead, gracefully gliding with the wind and occasionally dropping down into the water to catch a fish.

  Before she even realized she was tired, she fell asleep right there on the sand.

  It was quiet when Leawyn woke.

  She could no longer hear the seagulls squawking overhead, and the beach wasn’t as warm because the sun had long since set, and in its place the moon shone brightly.

  Leawyn shot up with a gasp, looking around her in panic. She scrambled to her feet, wiping the sand off her hands using her long skirt.

  Brees was going to be so mad at her!

  She gathered up her skirts and ran as quickly as her six-year-old legs could take her towards the hill that would lead back to her village. Leawyn’s panic grew; everything was dark. Without a torch it was hard to navigate. Soon she was horribly lost. Sliding down a rock slick with moss, Leawyn pulled her knees to her chest and began to cry.

  “Why are you crying?”

  Leawyn jerked violently sideways, her wide, blue eyes opening to see the pale face of a boy with a mop of curly, dark brown hair standing a few steps in front of her.

  He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her, standing at about four feet tall, his dark eyes staring at her with curiosity and concern.

  “I ran away from Brees, and now I don’t know my way back.” Leawyn sniffled, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. The boy’s lips pursed as he took a step forward and knelt down in front of Leawyn.

  “Why did you run away?”

  She sniffled again, her crystal eyes puddled as she answered. “I wanted to play, but she wouldn’t let me.”

  “Why couldn’t you play?”

  “Papa doesn’t like it when I play,” Leawyn whispered sadly.

  It got quiet between them, the boy lost in his thoughts and Leawyn wishing she would have listened to her caretaker.

  Her small shoulders shook as the beach carried a strong breeze. She jumped when a cloak was suddenly draped over her. Leawyn looked up at the boy as he stood, pulling her along with him.

  “I will take you home.”

  “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.

  THE 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 w
ith 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 . . .

  “OUR 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.

  Leawyn jumped from the bed when the door banged open, watching as her husband ducked in. Xavier’s presence seemed to fill the room. It was as if the air sensed the danger he possessed and crackled accordingly. He was dangerous, and powerful; Leawyn could only imagine what he was like on the battlefield. The thought made her shiver. She would never want to witness that, to see the true darkness in his eyes come to life.

  They stood staring at one another across the room; the quiet intensity of his stare made her feel ill at ease. When Xavier took a step towards her, Leawyn couldn’t help but take a step back.

  “Don’t,” Xavier warned, his voice low. Leawyn stilled instantly, eying him warily as he slowly made his way to her. He took a couple more steps and stopped.

  “Come here,” Xavier demanded.

  Leawyn took a few timid steps forward. When she was within arm’s reach, he caught her wrist and pulled her the rest of the way to him. With one hand he pushed a lock of hair away from her face and hooked his thumb under her chin, tilting it to the side so that a freshly made bruise caught the light. He studied it, his dark eyes filled with intensity. Finally, Xavier did something Leawyn never would have expected.

  His touch turned gentle as he tilted her chin up more and laid a gentle kiss on it. His kisses created a path down to her neck and collarbone, brushing the other bruises, both new and old, that marred her skin there.

  “Pack a bag. You’re accompanying me and my men,” Xavier said against her skin. He kissed her neck one last time before turning and walking out the way he came.

  Leawyn stared after him in bewilderment.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Tristan demanded as
soon as he reached Xavier.

  Xavier said nothing in response, barely sparing Tristan a glance as he continued to load up his horse

  “I just saw Leawyn packing a bag. She said you demanded she go with us?” Tristan asked, pointing behind him in his wife’s general direction. “Tell me my ears have mistaken me!”

  Xavier tightened the girth of his saddle and continued to ignore his brother. Tristan gritted his teeth in frustration, stepping in front of Xavier and blocking his path.

  “Xavier, she cannot go with us,” Tristan said firmly.

  “I don’t believe I asked for your opinion, nor do you have a choice in the matter,” Xavier said coolly. The fixed glare was the only warning Xavier gave his younger brother of the danger Tristan invoked by questioning him.

  “She cannot come with us, Xavier. It’s no place for a woman,” Tristan quietly reasoned with his brother.

  When Xavier’s eyes only narrowed in response, Tristan’s anger grew.

  “She could get killed!” Tristan yelled in frustration, drawing the attention of some of their tribesmen.

  Xavier’s temper got ahold of him, and he suddenly shoved Tristan against the tree behind him, forcing his back hard against the bark.

  “Why the sudden concern for my wife, brother?” Xavier asked dangerously as his grip tightened on Tristan’s tunic. “What does it matter to you what I do with my wife?”

  “She’s a liability, Xavier,” Tristan gritted out. “She’ll get you killed. She’ll get us all killed!”

  “What I do with my wife is none of your concern!” Xavier hissed. “She’s mine,” he snarled possessively in Tristan’s face.

  They glared at each other, tense silence stretched between them. After several heated moments, Xavier released Tristan’s tunic roughly as he backed away.