The Wasteland: Their Champion Book One

by K. A Knight

  “I would have thought that was obvious.” Maxen winks at me and leans his arm over the back of my chair. Jax sits with a smirk on his face, not the least bit bothered.

  “You’re just jealous. And I don’t even know where to start with Major,” I rub my head as the mood plummets and everyone turns serious.

  “That bad?” Drax’s smile has disappeared and he's watching me with concern. I swallow hard. There is a decision I need to make. Do I trust them or not? I look around, meeting their waiting eyes. Each one causes happiness to bloom in my once dead chest. Thorn with his steadfast strength and smile, Maxen the warrior, Drax the charmer and Jax the one whose demons match my own.

  “It’s not a pretty story and things are about to get a whole lot harder.”

  Drax leans back in his chair with a smile. “Ain’t ever been easy, babe. Anything that is worth having isn’t.” Thorn nods and Jax squeezes my hand. I turn to Maxen.

  “I told you, we have your back.” He squeezes my shoulder, and I take strength from it. Steeling myself, the words spill out.

  “I was a slave for Ivar, he's the leader of The Berserkers. I was his little pet…when I won my freedom, he hated it, but he had to honour The Ring’s rules. I managed to slip out before he could corner me and I haven’t seen him since.” Every one of their faces darkens with each word, but I don’t hide. If they show pity, I need to see it.

  “Apparently losing me has driven him mad. He's an evil man - that I didn’t lie about. He takes great pleasure in torturing people. He used to reserve that for me and his slaves. I was the only one who didn’t break, that only seemed to spur him on. I was his favourite, he got rid of all the other slaves until only I remained. It meant I had his sole focus and tender care. Major told me that the clan has split into two factions. One who thinks bringing me back to Ivar will let him regain control of his anger and bring him back to sanity - well as much as he ever was. They are raiding everywhere in the Wastes, causing wars and crossing territories looking for me.”

  “And the other faction?” Thorn’s jaw clenches like he has to spit the words out.

  “They want to overthrow Ivar. I know the man who is leading it, he's a good man. Lost, but good.”

  “Is this what Dray wanted?” Maxen rumbles next to me.

  “I honestly don’t know, it must be. I'm the only member of The Berserkers to ever walk away so it makes sense that if they are breaking territory rules, he would come to me.”

  “Can we trust him?” Drax looks around “If you meet him, is he planning on giving you to the faction searching for you to make them stop?”

  So, he finally gets where my thoughts have spun to. I trace the wood on the table and don’t meet their eyes. I take time to sort through my feelings, and what I know of Dray before I answer.

  “I don’t know. My instincts scream that I can trust him, but I've been wrong before.” My words end on a choke and I push away from the table to pace.

  “So what do we do?” Jax asks, breaking into my thoughts. I turn to the table and grip the back of the chair. I can almost feel the awaiting storm; one growing closer, ready to leave devastation in its wake. One that my words will start, but even sensing that, they are still on the tip of my tongue, raised by my insecurities and the need to not trust anyone.

  “I meet him, I see what he wants. If he betrays me, I kill him.” The words are like acid on my tongue. The idea of being able to kill him is nearly impossible but it's my heart that rebels against it. The crazy bastard is a weakness for me, I just hope he doesn’t know it. Major’s other words come to me as I meet their eyes, needing to see the answers written there.

  “Can I trust you? Why are you here? What are you looking for?” The world stutters as my accusations hit them like blows. Jax turns rigid and Drax looks crestfallen. Thorn’s lips tug down and I daren’t look at Maxen.

  “Where is this coming from?” Thorn asks, his fists clenching on the table.

  “It's strange timing that you turn up as the raids start. How do I know you don’t work for Ivar? That you won't betray me?” My last words are quiet but it's like a bomb goes off. Maxen pushes away from the table and turns to me, furious. Drax looks at me like I've kicked him and Thorn watches me in anger.

  “You never asked why we were here. You really think we would work for slavers?” Maxen spits out the word and glares at me, his nostrils flaring and his chest heaves. Despite the anger, and the fight we are in, I can’t help but notice how sexy he is when he’s angry. All alpha male and hard, his body a weapon and his tongue sharp like barbs.

  “I don’t know. I hope not, but I have to know.”

  Jax slides his chair back, breaking mine and Maxen’s stare off. I look into his eyes to see they have frosted again, my sweet Jax disappearing.

  “Then how could you touch us, thinking we are evil? What does that say about you?” Before he turns, I see the heartbreak in his eyes and mine shatters in my chest as he walks out the door and shuts it gently behind him. Drax stands, and without looking at me, follows his brother, leaving me with Thorn and Maxen. I look between them and Thorn stands with a sad shake of his head. Walking past me, he stops.

  “So you know, we aren’t looking for you. If you had asked, we would have told you why we are here.” With that, he stalks after the others, leaving Maxen and I alone with his anger.

  “Maxen I-” He holds his hand up and glares at me.

  “He’s right.” He stomps towards me and stops with just a breath between us. The need to reach out to him is strong, but I'm scared he would step away. Regret is bitter on my tongue and my heart lays in tatters once again. Major did not break this, I did. I took the only happiness I know and twisted it.

  “You’re scared of how you feel about us, so you are using this as an excuse so that you can go back to hiding, living your miserable life. You need to learn to trust, Worth, before you push everyone away,” he turns and walks away from me and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  My chest turns tight as I try to suck in air. My eyes fill with tears I won't allow to fall. Is he right? Did I push them away because I’m scared? But, most importantly, is it too late? Have I broken this thing between us?

  ◆◆◆

  Unwilling to stay in the room, I leave and hide away in the training grounds. I don’t know how long I’ve been punching and kicking the dummy when I hear a noise over the top of my racing heart and exhausted breathing. Spinning, I watch as Dray pushes off the wall and strolls towards me. Shit, how long has he been there? Stupid, shit, he could have been anyone. He could have gotten the drop on me and I wouldn’t have even noticed, too worried about my stupid hurting heart. This is why it is better to feel nothing.

  The memory of him watching me and Jax flashes in my mind, making my nipples harden. Bloody hussies. It seems they do that if one of the men even bothers to look in my direction recently.

  “You ready to tell me what the hell that note was about?” I scowl, covering my desire. He stops in front of me, his lithe body relaxed. His eyes drink me in before meeting mine.

  “You’re welcome for the sword,” he grins and buries his hands in his jean pockets, drawing my gaze to his thick thighs. I snap my eyes back up, but he smirks at catching me looking.

  “I didn’t say thank you.” Exhaustion has me rubbing my head. It's been a hell of a couple of days. My anger and guilt are still hovering over me like clouds, making me unable to think properly. “I don’t want to play games right now Dray, just tell me what you want?”

  His face changes and he steps forward until our bodies are almost touching. He cups my cheeks and raises my head. I know I should pull away, but honestly, I could use all the comfort he’s offering right now.

  “Never any games between us. I'm not a soft man and you’re not a soft woman. This world ripped all kindness and caring out of me when I was a child. I can't be what you need right now. I see it in your eyes: the need to be reassured, but I refuse to lie to you or pretend I know how to do th
at. I am a warrior, so I might not be able to hold you and offer you pretty words, but I can offer you the things I do well.” Opposite to his harsh words, his fingers gently stroke my cheek, sending a shiver through my body. How can it react to him so strongly, like he is the spark that starts the fire in my body?

  “What's that?” I find myself asking. His eyes don’t warm, but at this moment, I am exactly where I want to be.

  “Strength. You always have my strength.”

  My tongue darts out to moisten my bottom lip and he follows it with his thumb, making me swallow hard. He's right, he never lies to me. I might not know the man standing in front of me very well, but at this moment, he's allowing me to ask. I might not like the answers, but he would never hold anything back.

  “I don’t need pretty words. All I ever want is the truth. I don’t need your comfort, I need to get rid of this energy in me.”

  His grin is a little evil but has my panties dampening.

  “Fighting or fucking. It’s your choice.” His voice is as cold as his eyes.

  I watch him, knowing I could have him right now. I can see and feel his need. It would be harsh and brutal like the man himself, but if I cross that line with him, there's no going back.

  “I don’t want to fuck. I want to fight.” He nods, the need still in his eyes.

  “Both are pretty much the same to me.” He's right, the lust quickly turns to bloodlust in his eyes. The image of me and him beating the shit out of each other, of not having to hold back, of just being the monster they created, has me snarling with the same need he feels. His grin turns feral. I know he can take it and return it and that makes me hotter than hell. I never need to hide the darkest parts of me with him. He sees them, and revels in them, twisting them with his own. So no, he will never be the man who holds me and tells me everything will be ok. But I don’t need that, I never have. I know the evil that waits around each corner, the darkest parts of a person's soul. No pretty half-truths will make me feel better, but taking it all out on him might.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you spill that Seekers guts in your first fight. I've never seen anything as beautiful as you rising from the sand covered in your enemies blood, a stolen blade clutched in your hand. You looked like a fucking queen, the way you tilted your head in defiance.”

  The memory of that fights rises. I remember my eyes meeting his in the crowd and what felt like an electric bolt hitting me.

  “Enough talking.” Stepping back, I let his hands drop. He rips his shirt over his head and tosses it away. His eight pack is revealed, all solid mass with clear sharp lines. A delicious V leads down to his low riding jeans as does his happy trail. Scars, burns and bruises mar his chest, showing me how much of a warrior he is. He is like the wildness in this world, the death and destruction around him, suiting him, accepting him. Looking into his eyes, it's easy to see why so many fear him and whisper about him in reverence, but it only serves to amp up my desire. My anger wraps around it, twisting me inside until I don’t know whether to jump him or attack him.

  He waits, letting me look my fill. He doesn’t pose or show off, just stands loose and waits for whatever I throw at him. That thought breaks the last shred of my control and with a speed I didn’t even know I had, I run at him, my previous exhaustion melting away to brutal unrelenting anger.

  I slide at the last minute and jump to my feet behind him. I jab his sides before dancing away. He spins, already striking, faster than I thought possible. His fist catches my exposed face, the force snapping it sideways. A grin to match his graces my lips at the fact he didn’t pull the punch, it allows the chains holding back my demons to snap. I whirl at him, brutally hammering with punches and kicks. He blocks and returns as we dance across the training grounds. I start to flag after about ten minutes and I can tell he still has more stamina. He manages to put me to the ground, standing over me with his eyes alight.

  Time to show him why I’m the champion. Grabbing a fist full of sand, I fling it into his eyes and push up; jumping. Wrapping my legs around his neck, I twist in a dirty move, rolling him under me so my thighs bracket his face. Without missing a beat, his legs wrap around my throat and yank me down. Applying more pressure, I grit my teeth against the burning in my throat. Rolling us to the side, I manage to shimmy out of the hold while releasing my legs. Not giving him a second to act, I grab his arms and throw his body so he lays on his front, his arm at an angle behind him.

  From this, I can control his movement. He pulls, yanking his arm. I have a split second to decide whether to let him go or dislocate his arm. I let go and he dislodges me before pinning me to the floor.

  We stare at each other, our chests heaving, the adrenaline running through our sweaty bodies. The rest of the world drops away, leaving just me and Dray.

  “Give up?” He grins as he talks, the sweat trickling down his face and dripping onto my chest. With a smirk, I roll us and lean over his hips. His hard length hits my core, making me wiggle.

  “Never.”

  His grin is full of amusement and his cold eyes blaze.

  “Good. Draw?” He asks. I’m betting he has never had to draw in his life, although neither have I. I know he's talking about more than the fight, if I agree, I’m meeting him halfway. I’m reaching out to him. I nod and roll off to lay next to him in the dirt. We both stare at the sky for a while before his voice breaks the quiet of the night.

  “I need your help.”

  My head snaps to the side to see him looking at me intensely.

  “With what?” I ask shocked.

  “I'm calling a Summit. It’s the only way to deal with the Berserker threat. They are getting stupid, and with no proper leader, it could spill over all the borders, creating a war none of us can win. Not with our infighting anyway.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “They trust you. Everyone knows your rep and plenty of men out here owe you their lives or loyalty because of what you did in The Ring. Us leaders don’t trust one another, but having the Berserker champion come to them? That just might work.”

  “That’s crazy,” I protest, sputtering at the idea.

  “Maybe, maybe not. If anything, they will be curious and want to lord their power over you so they will come.”

  “So, what, you want me to round up the most feared men in the Wastes?”

  “Not exactly. I got Reeves to agree to attend the summit here, only the Worshippers haven’t answered my call,” he sounds angry. I’m betting he’s never heard no before.

  “So you plan on saving the Wastes?”

  “Don’t give me more credit than I deserve. I don’t give a fuck whether the Berserkers wipe them out, but if they do, they reach more land and people. That will upset the balance and leave me at a disadvantage. War will devastate all the clans. Ivar needs to be dealt with. I’m not asking for miracles, if I call a summit, I can see where the others stand while seeming like a good ally.”

  I go quiet for a while, thinking through his logic. “I will die before I go back to him, you know that right?” I stare at him, letting him see the truth in my words.

  “I know. If it comes to that; if I - you- we - can't stop him, I’ll kill you myself before he gets his hands on you.” Some of the fear dissipates in me at that, I know he will keep his word. My chest loosens and I let go of the worries I’ve held since I heard they were looking for me.

  “So you want me to go The Worshippers?” I try changing the subject, done with thinking about the past.

  “Extend the invitation. I know you have ex-fighting friends there. Use your connections and then be back for the Summit.” He makes it sound easy.

  “What why? Why do I need to be here for the Summit?”

  “Beside the fact you know more about The Berserkers than anyone else in the Wastes? Your smart, and if we are to win this, we will need your survival instincts. Besides, having you there might calm the clans and stop us from tearing each other apart before Ivar can.”<
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  “When's the summit?” I groan, he couldn't have asked for something easy could he?

  “Twelve days.” He smiles as my eyes narrow at the late warning.

  “Who else will be there?”

  “Major, Reeves, you, me, and a representative from The Rim.” He turns on his side to face me, propping his head on his arm. He looks younger right now, without all the weight and expectation of leading on his shoulders.

  “Why do you think I'll do this?”

  “I could feed you lies about how you want to save people which, although true, isn’t the main reason. Revenge. Your time to make him pay for everything and if you save innocent lives along the way, that’s a bonus for you. You’re the only one who can do this. You’re smart, resourceful and even the leaders have a grudging respect for you. We need you. I need you.”