by Nicole René
“What about Xavier?”
“What about him?” Tristan replied, pulling the knot he created tighter.
Leawyn’s mouth dropped open at his flippant tone. “Xavier is not strong enough to make this move, Tristan! He only just started to gain back his strength. If we move him, all the strength he regained and the recovery he made would diminish.” She strode over to stand directly in his sight. “Tristan!” she said sharply when he did not respond.
She met his eyes dead on when he slowly turned his head to look up at her. “He cannot make this move,” she repeated firmly, her expression unrelenting. She softened her tone to some degree as she stared at Tristan in confusion. “How could you not care about that?”
Tristan shot to his feet. Leawyn reeled back when she suddenly found him in her face. “Why do you?” he hissed angrily.
“What do y—”
“You know exactly what I mean, Leawyn!” Tristan cut her off, his words sharp.
She recoiled more, her neck stretching to put some space between Tristan’s face and hers.
“He’s my husband—”
Tristan scoffed, pushing himself away from her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Leawyn asked, baffled.
Tristan whirled around, and Leawyn could not manage to hide her gasp when she suddenly found herself pressed against a tree, his furious face level with hers.
“I have watched what he has done to you!” Tristan said vehemently, searing her with his heated gaze. “It was my ears that burned with the sounds of your screams.” Leawyn flinched, turning her face away from him. “It was I who heard your sobs as he left you like some common whore!” He raised his voice as he shook her a bit, causing her to straighten her shoulders and snap her gaze back to Tristan’s.
“And yet you take care of him. Like a dutiful little wife when, weeks before, it was me you begged to help you escape,” Tristan snarled bitterly, his expression transformed into a look of disgust as he let go of her shoulders and stepped away.
“Yet, here you stand, worried about his health.” He laughed without humor, shaking his head. “You’re pathetic.”
Leawyn swallowed, her eyes clouding over with tears as she hugged herself. Never before had Tristan raised his voice at her, or even gave any indication he felt this way. For the first time, Leawyn truly saw the resemblance between Tristan and Xavier.
“Xavier was mortally wounded, Tristan. I couldn’t just let him die,” she said softly, wrapping her cloaks tighter around herself. “It was the right thing to do, and if I was a lesser woman, I would have let him die. But I’m not.” She raised her chin in proud defiance when Tristan turned to look at her. “Out of everyone, I thought you understood that.”
Tristan’s jaw tightened as he looked away, not having a response. Leawyn looked down at the snow-covered ground and slowly turned around to head back to camp. She took a few steps before she paused and turned her body halfway to look back at Tristan.
“I remember once, when a man told me to accept my fate.” Tristan slowly looked up, his eyes meeting hers like they did what seemed so long ago. “Those were the words that burned my ears.”
Tristan flinched, the slight at him sharp and cutting. He looked away from her, and Leawyn didn’t spare him a second more as she made her trek back to her tent.
Leawyn threw the flap over her shoulder with an angry jerk. She stopped, breathing in deeply to try and calm her raging emotions.
Leawyn looked down and grimaced in disgust at her wet clothing. She marched over to the place that held her other clothes and shrugged off both cloaks. She pulled the wet dress over her head quickly and threw it on the ground. Then she grabbed a thick, long-sleeved dress at random.
Leawyn sighed and closed her eyes, immediately feeling warmer now that she had on dry clothes. The angry words Tristan had thrown at her laid heavily on her mind. It brought back emotions she had tried to lock away when she had first set eyes on Xavier.
She did not know what she was doing, and the feeling of being so hopelessly lost was weighing her down.
Leawyn bit her bottom lip hard to hold back the urge to cry.
Her eyes opened and landed at the fire that was growing dim. Deciding it was a task, and doing something would be better than doing nothing, Leawyn made her way over to the pit. It didn’t take her very long to have the fire roaring once again.
She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head against her knees as she stared at the dancing flames.
Leawyn hadn’t realized how tired she was until now. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t had much sleep; her time and energy was consumed with making sure Xavier survived the fever that tried many times to take his life. The few minutes of rest she did get was on top of the animal skins on the floor.
Leawyn didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until she felt arms wrap under her head and under her knees. She startled awake, only to stare up into the dark eyes of her husband leaning over her, getting ready to pick her up.
“Xavier, what are you doing out of bed?” She felt groggy but, nevertheless, sat up. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!” she admonished, frowning. She stood to try and usher him back to the pallets.
Xavier leaned back, allowing her to rise, but planted his feet, not allowing her to move him. “You should be in bed too.”
Leawyn froze, caught by surprise. She looked up to see he was looking down at her, his face the usual mask of indifference that made it difficult to know what he was thinking.
She shook her head. “I’m fine, but you need to lie down,” she said as she tried once again to usher him back to bed.
Xavier didn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed the hand she rested on his arm and held it with his own. Leawyn stilled at the contact, looking up slowly to meet Xavier’s eyes.
“You need to sleep,” Xavier told her, pulling her body closer. “I know you haven’t been sleeping much, and the floor is no place for you to try.”
“But you need to—”
“And I will,” Xavier interrupted her, tugging on her hand as he turned. “You’re just going to go with me,” he told her firmly. Leawyn gazed past his shoulder to the bed pallets, looking at them wearily.
A warm hand cupped her jaw, urging her to look back up at him.
“Just sleep, Leawyn, nothing else,” Xavier promised softly, keeping his gaze locked on her.
“Alright,” she whispered, glancing up at Xavier hesitantly. Xavier said nothing. Instead, he turned back to the bed, keeping his hold on Leawyn’s hand until they reached it. He dropped her hand, and she settled down on the bed pallet obediently as he lay next to her, throwing the thick furs over them both.
Leawyn lay stiffly for a long while, trying to keep her erratic heartbeat from being made obvious through her breathing. She heard a sigh, and a moment later she was wrapped up by a heavily muscled arm. Xavier tugged Leawyn closer until she settled with her head resting on his chest.
Satisfied, he kept his arm around Leawyn, holding her tight, and quickly fell asleep.
Leawyn didn’t dare move, still in shock at the gesture. She peeked up at him and saw he really was asleep. She relaxed. Leawyn did not want to admit it, but being cuddled against him made her feel warmer, and she couldn’t fight the shiver of delight that ran through her.
Surrounded by the warmth of her husband, Leawyn’s body quickly relaxed, and soon she fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her protectively.
Leawyn wasn’t sure what woke her up exactly, and it took her a minute to clear the grogginess out of her mind and tune into her surroundings.
The memory of Xavier waking her up before made her realize the feeling of his heavy arm draped over her possessively was absent. She sat up, holding the furs close to her body as she looked around.
Her blue eyes landed on the muscular back of her husband, who was standing a few paces away from the fire. Leawyn took a moment to truly look at her husband.
His muscles were much more defined th
an any other man’s she’d seen, and they rippled whenever he moved. His shoulders were wide, and he had two bulging muscles that stood out on either side of his neck. His waist was slim, the V of his hips outlining the solid eight abdomen muscles. A small line of rough dark hair started from his navel and led the way down to a path he made sure she knew well.
She avoided those memories and instead returned her attention to his back again. She never noticed how many scars her husband had until now. The most recent one from the arrow was still an angry red color, the skin around the wound puckered.
One of the older scars was on his ribs, with a few smaller scars surrounding it. There was a long scar which started from his shoulder blade and traveled all the way down to his right hip. It must have been given to him by some unknown enemy who tried to kill him from behind.
Leawyn could see at least two other arrow wound scars. One was below his left shoulder, closer to his arm, and the other below the base of his neck. Had the arrow been shot a few inches higher, Xavier would be dead.
Leawyn knew if he were to turn around, there would be a different array of scars on his chest, arms, and legs.
His scars were the stories of the wars he had fought, and to acquire so many and still be able to draw breath was remarkable. Xavier was not only a warrior; he was also a survivor.
“You shouldn’t be awake.”
Her husband’s voice snapped her out of the trance she was in, and she looked up, expecting to meet his gaze, but he hadn’t turned around.
Leawyn’s face flushed with the knowledge he had felt her staring.
“Yes, well . . .” Leawyn cleared her throat. “You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she countered smoothly, only to scowl when Xavier let out a throaty chuckle. Her scowl deepened when he didn’t say anything more.
“We’ll be leaving at dawn; I would get as much rest as possible. We will be riding hard, and the only breaks we’ll be taking are for the horses.” Xavier looked over his shoulder, studying her before he turned back around and walked to the far end of the tent.
Leawyn watched him with growing curiosity as he rummaged through a few things and then made his way over to her.
“Do you know how to use this?” he asked. In his hands he held a small bow and a few arrows that were most likely used for hunting.
Leawyn’s brow creased in confusion. “Yes, well enough. I was trained a bit when I was a child.”
Xavier nodded in approval. “Most Samaritans are trained in battle, as they should be. It pleases me to hear the Rhoxolani have upheld the tradition.”
Leawyn bristled, narrowing her eyes and giving Xavier a nasty glare. “Are you accusing my people of having no respect for our traditions and heritage?”
Xavier met her gaze calmly, not at all fazed by her outburst. “Rhoxolani people haven’t gone to battle in years, and very rarely venture out of their village. It wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t feel the need to prepare themselves for an attack, nor train their women to protect themselves should the need arise.”
Leawyn’s mouth dropped open and closed for a moment in disbelief. Her disbelief turned into anger, and she snatched the bow and arrow out of his hands. Huffing, she turned on her heel and marched outside.
Xavier blinked at the space Leawyn had been in a moment before, and then he quickly walked after her.
“Leawyn!” he barked, throwing the tent flap over his shoulder in annoyance. His irritation grew when she simply ignored him and stopped towards the end of the camp.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Xavier seethed, trudging through the snow quickly. His shout roused the attention of some of his men who were awake, including Tristan and Tyronian, who both watched curiously.
Leawyn looked up at the sky, her head turning as her eyes searched for something. He was just about to yank her backwards to him when she suddenly notched an arrow and aimed the bow high. She released it before Xavier could stop her.
A moment later, a bird fell out of the sky and dropped to the ground with an arrow lodged in its chest.
He stared at it in shock. When he lifted his eyes to meet Leawyn’s smug look, she roughly pushed the bow to his chest. On reflex he clutched it to him so it wouldn’t fall to the ground.
“Just so you know, the women of my tribe are usually the ones to hunt,” Leawyn said haughtily and walked passed Xavier and into the tent without another word.
Xavier followed her with his eyes before turning back to the bird on the ground.
Tyronian strutted up to it and let out a low whistle, holding the arrow to his face. “Shot it right into the heart!” he said admiringly, walking a few paces to stand in front of his cousin. “Guess she showed you,” he said cheekily.
Xavier scowled at him before he swiftly turned on his heel and marched back into the tent after his wife. His cousin’s laugher followed him in.
XAVIER CHUCKLED, AMUSED as he watched his wife arguing with his horse. She didn’t know he was there, which made it all the more entertaining.
“Killix! I swear, if you don’t get out of my way, I’m going to use you for horse meat!” Leawyn huffed when all Killix did was pull his lips up over his teeth and continue to stand in the way of her mare and saddle she held in her hands.
Deydrey snorted, pinning her ears back at Killix. It was like she huffed and glared at the stubborn stallion the same way Leawyn did.
When his tiny wife attempted to push the giant stallion out of the way again, the horse turned his neck and nipped her fingers.
“Ow!” Leawyn exclaimed, dropping the saddle as she clutched her fingers. “You bit me!”
Killix let out a long whinny, his sides shaking with the sound.
“Are you laughing at me?”
Leawyn scowled at Killix, who threw his head upwards before snapping it back down several times. Xavier let out a whistle then, and Killix instantly stopped, ears flicking up as he turned his head to look behind Leawyn. She rotated her body to watch Killix trot off.
Xavier lifted his hand and patted Killix’s strong neck, leaning over to stare at Leawyn. He couldn’t help himself, and grinned ever so slightly.
“Have you been there the whole time?” Leawyn exclaimed in annoyance.
Her ire seemed to grow when Xavier felt his smirk widen.
Leawyn glared at them both (especially Killix) and picked the saddle off the ground and threw it over Deydrey, who was now free to stand in front of Leawyn.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered angrily under her breath. Deydrey snorted, agreeing with her.
“I heard that Killix had a crush on your mare, but I didn’t believe it until now.”
“Yes, well,” Leawyn threw the reins around Deydrey’s neck, “he’s been unbelievingly annoying with the whole thing. It’s unattractive, quite frankly.” She climbed up onto Deydrey’s back. “So you can just forget it!” Leawyn gave them both another dirty glare before she kicked her heels and Deydrey took off.
Xavier and Killix watched both their respective females trot off.
“I think you made her angry,” Xavier said wryly, glancing over at Killix when he turned his head to look at him.
“If she’s anything like Leawyn, I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you.”
Killix stared at Xavier a bit longer before he again turned his attention to Deydrey, snorting dismissively.
“If you say so,” Xavier chuckled, shaking his head.
He pushed himself away from leaning against Killix and lifted himself onto the saddle. He didn’t even need to urge Killix to go before he was making his way all too eagerly to the company of men waiting to move out.
Or more specifically, Deydrey.
They rode just as hard as they had before.
Once again Leawyn was determined to prove her worth and show that she and Deydrey could handle such a hard ride. But it was difficult.
Well, for Leawyn it was.
There was a sense of urgency in the way Xavier had the men riding, almost as if he was eage
r to return home. Leawyn looked over in front of her, watching Xavier closely. She still didn’t agree in leaving so early with Xavier still recovering, but she had to admit he seemed to be doing fine.
Still . . .
Leawyn might not be battle trained, in fact, she knew next to nothing about war, but she couldn’t help feel something bad was coming. Like everything was about to change—and not in a good way.
Leawyn shivered, shaking off her ominous thoughts and instead focused on riding Deydrey safely through the snow.
Good thing too, because she almost ran right into the back of Tyronian’s horse as they came to a sudden stop.
Tyronian turned in his saddle, raising his brow at her. Leawyn shot him a sheepish look.
“Sorry,” she mouthed.
Tyronian grinned, shook his head, and turned his attention back to the front where Xavier and Tristan were stopped.
Leawyn nudged Deydrey so she was positioned beside him and his horse.
“What’s going on?” Leawyn asked curiously, straining her neck to see over the men in front of her.
“The lake is frozen,” Tyronian frowned.
She snapped her head to look over at Tyronian.
“Lake? I don’t remember a lake on our way here.”
“Aye,” Tyronian nodded, still staring in front of him. He watched Tristan and Xavier, who looked to be in a heated discussion.
“We went around it before.”
“I don’t get it,” Leawyn said in confusion. “If we went it around it before, why can’t we now?”
Tyronian shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to wait and find out,” he told her. She could tell there was something he was keeping from her, but she didn’t press him further.
So, they waited.
“Do you have a plan?”
Xavier held in his sigh and gave the frozen water in front of him a brooding glare from his kneeled position.
“We cross,” Xavier said, standing to his full height.
“You cannot be serious?” Tristan asked incredulously, staring at him like he was mad.
Xavier gave a slight nod, and Tristan looked to the lake. He heard his brother’s jaw ticking.
