How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1)

by Nicole René

  “Xavier . . .” Leawyn whimpered, the sound both scared and confused.

  “Shh,” Xavier soothed, stopping to add another finger inside her before he continued pumping them in and out of her. “Just let it come.”

  Leawyn moaned softly, a slow tremble starting within her. Her body felt hot, and tense. The pleasure shooting from her core at Xavier’s ministrations made her breathless. Soon the sensation became too much, and Leawyn gripped Xavier’s shoulders in fear at the overwhelming feeling.

  “Xavier!”

  “It’s okay,” Xavier whispered, nuzzling her cheek. “You’re okay. Don’t fight it. That’s it. You’re such a good girl.”

  With those whispered words, Leawyn’s body grew rigid, her back arching off the bed as her world shattered apart.

  She barely noticed when Xavier’s hand left her hair, or heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. She was too lost in the moment. Xavier dipped his head and sealed his mouth to hers to muffle her cry as he quickly thrust into her warm depth without warning.

  Leawyn didn’t know what was happening, or what to think. She knew better than to fight him when he wanted something—not that he would care anyways—but in this case, something was different. She didn’t feel the usual pain when he entered her against her will, and she didn’t feel the sharp burn his rough treatment caused her insides.

  He did enter her without asking, yes, but he was almost being . . . gentle.

  Instead of pain, she felt a burning of a different sensation she had never experienced before now. Leawyn couldn’t hold in her gasp when Xavier’s slow, gentle rocking started to gain more momentum. She tilted her neck to the side when Xavier’s mouth latched onto her pulse point, giving it a sharp nip with his teeth. Leawyn cried out at the pain of the action, but it quickly turned into a small whimper of need as his tongue soothed the hurt away.

  “Look at me,” Xavier ordered huskily. He exhaled roughly when her blue eyes flew open and did what he asked. Xavier cupped her throat, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

  Xavier continued to thrust into her for a long while, the sound of their bodies joining loud in the otherwise quiet room. Her responding whimpers of pleasure urged Xavier on until he stilled, shuddering as he spilled his seed inside her.

  It was silent as they each took a moment to catch their breaths. Xavier gently rolled off her and the bed. He avoided looking at her as he gathered his clothes up, pulled them on, and exited the hut as quickly as he came in.

  Leawyn stared at the closed door with a mixture of confusion, anger and . . . hurt.

  Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she pulled the furs over herself and righted her slip. Leawyn pointedly ignored the tear that slipped behind her closed eyes and made its way silently down her cheek.

  Xavier stared out into the rolling hills that surrounded his village, deep in thought. He stayed passive even as Tristan settled himself beside him. They sat together in silence for a long while and watched the hustle and bustle of their village.

  “She’s awake?”

  Xavier nodded silently. He could see Tristan nod from the corner of his eye.

  “Are you going to tell her?” Tristan asked morosely. Xavier avoided his brother’s questioning gaze and kept his eyes glued to the village below.

  Xavier stayed silent, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He thought about the day he brought Leawyn back to the village after she fell into the ice . . . only for the healer to tell him the baby he never knew Leawyn was carrying was lost.

  “No.”

  The silence between them was tense. Xavier knew Tristan wanted to bring him solace, but he just wanted to be alone. Finally, Tristan stood and turned to make his way back home. He paused, hesitated, then put his hand on Xavier’s shoulder in comfort and sympathy before he continued on his way and left Xavier alone with his thoughts.

  Xavier waited until he was certain he was once again alone. Only then did he let his emotions show. He covered his head with his hands and wept for the first time since he was seven years old, when he watched his mother get raped and killed in front of his eyes.

  LEAWYN WAS FORCED to stay in bed, her body still weak and recovering. She hardly saw Xavier since the night she woke up. Her treacherous thoughts would think of that night often. She thought of the way his hands felt on her body as he touched her, and of the new pleasure it brought her when he was moving inside of her. It shamed Leawyn she longed for that connection again. It was why she welcomed the distraction Namoriee presented when she stopped by her hut.

  Their friendship came easily, and Leawyn was ecstatic when Namoriee informed her she was to be her new handmaiden—Leawyn refused to consider her the slave Namoriee claimed herself to be.

  The girls were still giggling wildly about the newest antics of Killix and his quest to win Deydrey’s affections when Tyronian strolled in. He propped his hip on the door as he took in the laughing girls with a smile.

  “And what is so funny?” Tyronian asked, causing the laughter to stop abruptly when they finally noticed his presence.

  “Tyronian!” Leawyn said happily, shooting him a smile. “I did not hear you come in. What a pleasant surprise!”

  Tyronian chuckled, pushing himself off the doorjamb and making his way over to the girls. “Not surprising, the whole village could hear you laughing.” Tyronian grinned, bending his tall form to kiss Leawyn on the cheek before he settled himself on the vacant chair next to her bed pallets. Namoriee ducked her head when his stormy blue eyes pierced hers. “Namoriee, how do you fare?” Tyronian asked, keeping his gaze on the dark brown locks hiding the girl’s face.

  Namoriee gave a quick, jerky nod in answer before she rose to her feet. She peeked at Leawyn through her brown fringe. “I’ll take my leave now, Lady Chief.”

  Leawyn frowned, her brows drawing together. Before she could even utter her protest, Namoriee was out of the hut, the door shutting soundly behind her. She shook her head at Namoriee’s sudden departure, turning her attention back to Tyronian to see his eyes locked on the closed door. A sly smile quirked her lips.

  “It seems you find my door very appealing,” Leawyn commented lightly, causing Tyronian to jerk to attention, blinking out of his daze.

  “Yes, well.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “It’s a very nice door.”

  Leawyn snorted. When he glowered at her, she laughed.

  Tyronian huffed and rolled his eyes. “Right. Well,” he said, standing up to his full six-foot-five height quickly, “I best be off. I only came in here to tell you Deydrey is recovering well.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Leawyn smiled, staring up at Tyronian. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Tyronian narrowed his eyes at her, trying to distinguish the look she was giving him. He gave up when all Leawyn did was continue to stare up at him innocently, and he strode to the door.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, amused.

  “Away from you!” Tyronian snapped, suddenly grumpy.

  Leawyn laughed. “Tell Namoriee she must come visit me again when she has time!” she called out as Tyronian opened the door.

  He paused, his hand resting on the wooden knob before he huffed and slammed the door closed behind him.

  Leawyn was still laughing under her breath as she lay back down onto her bed pallet and snuggled into the soft animal furs. She sighed in comfort.

  “Poor Namoriee. She won’t stand a chance,” she mumbled before she closed her eyes and slept.

  Later that night, Xavier, Tyronian, and Tristan stared down at a map of the land on the large oak table in the middle of the war room.

  Xavier had called in his counsel almost immediately when they had first arrived back in the village. After a heavy discussion, it was agreed to send out another scouting party to track the whereabouts of the mysterious army and to learn anything they could about them. But when they didn’t report back, they sent a few more men to meet up with the previous party.
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  That was almost six nights ago.

  “Still no word from the Siraces?” Xavier asked. Tyronian’s frown was deep when he shook his head.

  “Tristan?”

  Xavier gave a low growl of annoyance and frustration when Tristan shook his head as well.

  “Who are these bastards?” Tyronian muttered.

  “One army does not simply appear and disappear,” Tristan reasoned. “They have to be hiding somewhere.”

  “Yes, but the question is where?” Tyronian sighed, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

  Xavier narrowed his eyes at the map in front of him, his annoyance quickly turning into ire. This army was toying with him, goading him to find them and attack. They were biding their time and making a fool out of him all at the same time.Not many men were able to catch him off guard. But they did, and that fact alone enraged Xavier.

  They were all brooding down at the map, getting more and more frustrated, when a series of shouts met their ears.

  Without another glance at each other, they each made their way outside and watched as two horses came barreling toward them.

  The stallion slid to a stop in front of them, rearing a moment before his front legs landed on the ground with a thud. The rider hopped off, throwing a crossbow down at Xavier’s feet.

  Xavier glanced down at it before raising his brown eyes to meet Tidas’s grim face, waiting for him to reveal what Xavier already knew.

  “Armor piercing.”

  Tristan frowned, snatching up the crossbow and raising it to eye-level, scrutinizing it.

  “That’s fairly obvious,” Tyronian commented, his voice laced heavily in derision.

  Tidas shot Tyronian a look before focusing on his chief, his eyes piercing Xavier’s.

  “There’s more,” Tidas said gravely. Xavier watched as the man made his way to the other horse and snatched up what looked like a rucksack. He brought it back to Xavier, placing it in his hands.

  “A message.”

  Xavier glanced at Tidas briefly, then turned his attention to the bundle. He held onto it with one hand while his other unraveled the tightly wrapped string holding the bag together.

  Once he was able to unknot it, he flipped the flap open and looked into the bag.

  He stilled, his face twisting in fury as he stared down at what he held in his hand. He looked up slowly, and everyone took a step back at the savage look clouding his eyes.

  Xavier glanced down at the rucksack again, his back molars grinding together in anger as his fists clenched. He let out a roar of rage, his voice echoing through the dense forest surrounding them as he turned around and threw the rucksack. It landed against the earth with a thud that resounded loudly against the silence before tumbling forward.

  Without another word, Xavier stomped away.

  The silence was deafening. The men all watched quietly with anticipation as Tristan slowly walked to the bag. He bent down, picked up it up, and looked into it.

  “What is it?” Tyronian asked, his voice tense.

  Tristan lifted his gaze to meet his cousins at the same time he turned and pulled out what was hidden inside, revealing the head of one of the scouts sent to follow the army.

  Tyronian clenched his fist, his throat constricting as he swallowed. He looked over to his right when one of the soldiers asked the question they were all wondering.

  “What does it mean?”

  Tyronian’s and Tristan’s eyes met, each reflecting the knowledge of what’s to come.

  “War.” Tristan growled, his voice filled with death. He looked down at the head in his hands one last time and released the grip he had on it.

  The head landed against the earth with sickening sound, tilting so the warrior’s last expression of shock was facing everyone.

  “This means war.”

  LEAWYN WAS STARTLED awake by the sound of the door slamming open as her husband stormed in. She instantly went on guard when she saw the murderous glint in his eye. He said nothing to her as he marched straight to where his armor was and started to strap it on, his movements fluid.

  When the tense silence became too much for her, Leawyn took in a breath to prepare herself.

  “Xavier?” she asked timorously.

  He stiffened, his fingers pausing in strapping his sword to his hip. His back and shoulder muscles bulged as his entire posture coiled at her tone. Slowly, he turned and met her eyes.

  Leawyn felt her heart skip a beat with her quick intake of breath. He looked ready to kill.

  Xavier kept his eyes locked on hers as he made his way to her. With each step that drew him closer, her apprehension grew. He stared down at her, his eyes boring deep within her soul.

  When she was within arm’s reach, Xavier’s hands struck out lighting fast, giving Leawyn a second to let out a surprised gasp before she found herself hauled into her husband’s muscled arms. He continued to stare at her, as if committing every single one of her features to memory.

  Besides the fire crackling in their room, the only other sound Leawyn could hear was her beating heart. She stayed in his arms rigidly, her guard up for any action he might take.

  One thing she had learned about her husband was he was anything but predictable. He was like a wild stallion, big and powerful but with an elegant grace that could leave you awestruck.

  Slowly—ever so slowly—she felt herself relax in his arms. He shifted her so he was able to bring one hand up to slide a callused finger down her cheek. Her lips parted, her breath hitching at the gentle touch.

  “Do you hate me Leawyn?” Xavier asked, his voice a low timbre.

  “Yes.”

  Xavier said nothing in response and instead bent down until Leawyn’s back was against the animal furs on their bed again. He rested his weight on his elbows as he hovered above her. He then dipped his head and put his mouth against hers, thrusting his tongue past her lips when she didn’t respond.

  Leawyn went rigid, not knowing how respond to his advances. As if sensing her hesitation, her husband grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair and tugged until her head was arched back, using her gasp of pain to further his exploration of her hot mouth.

  Leawyn didn’t know what caused this sudden attention, but she did know it wouldn’t be like last time. He was not going to be gentle. Something set him off, and she knew from experience it wasn’t going to be a pleasurable interaction.

  Xavier tore his mouth away from hers, staring down at her with lust-filled eyes.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded roughly, and his lips resumed their attack. Tightening the grip he had on her hair, he gave it a slight jerk to further motivate her when she didn’t follow his order right away.

  Leawyn squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her neck strain from the way he arched her. The pain of her hair being pulled into a tight grip made her eyes water. When Xavier bit her lip sharply, getting impatient, Leawyn brushed her tongue against his to save herself further pain.

  She felt his erection against her thigh then, and she let out a whimper when he yanked his mouth away from her lips and buried it in the juncture of her neck, biting down on the skin harshly. She gave a short yelp of pain.

  He released her hair and ran his rough hands down her chest until he held the fabric of her flimsy dress. Leawyn’s body jerked, the sound of fabric ripping split through the otherwise silent room as Xavier tore it completely off her. Another pain-filled yelp escaped her mouth when she felt Xavier’s teeth clasp onto her right breast, hard.

  Not giving her time to recover, he quickly picked her body up and flipped her around so her face was pushed down into the plush pillow. His rough hand pushed her shoulders down and his thighs splayed her legs open when he wedged them between her. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, and entered her with one deep thrust. Leawyn gave a shrill scream from the swift intrusion.

  A loud groan escaped his throat. Resuming his fistful of her hair, he yanked her head up until her neck was straining toward him. He relentlessly thrust into her, he
r body sliding away from his each time their hips connected from the force of their joining. Leawyn’s pain induced tears spilled over her eyelashes and made a trail down her smooth cheeks from Xavier’s rough assault.

  Her hands scrambled to get some kind of purchase to pull her body away and escape him, but his hard thrusts kept her body off the bed for no more than a second. He gripped her hips harder to keep her still and buried his face deep into her neck. The sound of his growls and grunts were loud in her ear.

  “Xavier, please!” she whimpered weakly in protest.

  Ignoring her pleas of respite, Xavier picked up the pace of the teeth-clattering thrusts as he plunged into her body time and time again, driving as deep into her as he was able.

  “Mine,” Xavier growled into her ear. “You’re mine, Leawyn.” He groaned, sweat dripping down his brow as he pushed into her harder still. “MINE!”

  With one last sharp twist of his hips, Xavier’s breath escaped as his release came, his seed pulsing into her and solidifying his ownership.

  It was silent as Xavier threw himself off Leawyn. She was motionless as he tucked her stiff and shaking body against his side. He kept a tight hold of her, his arm thrown possessively across her hip.

  The sob Leawyn was trying to hold in broke free when she felt the sticky substance of Xavier’s climax running down her thighs.

  “I hate you,” she cried coarsely, squeezing her eyes shut tightly against the pain of her abused body and emotions. “I hate you!”

  Xavier ignored her, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I hate you,” Leawyn chanted over and over again, until she had no more energy to cry or speak.

  “I hate you . . .” she whispered one last time before she gave in to the blackness and slipped into a restless sleep.

  The next morning, Xavier woke to the quiet of his hut and faint sounds of his village waking up.