How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1) (42 page)

“X
AVIER, YOU CAN’T
do this.” Leawyn gripped his arm, trying to hold him to her. Xavier turned to face Leawyn fully. Her eyes were distraught, tear tracks already showing on her cheeks. She was looking at him with such desperation and grief that it made Xavier’s own heart clench in the unfamiliar way only Leawyn seemed to make him feel.

“You know our laws, Leawyn,” Xavier said gently, knowing she didn’t truly need another reminder. Leawyn gripped his arm tighter, her clutch desperate. She moved closer to him, her head tilting back in order to meet his eyes.

“Please don’t do this.” Her knuckles turned white with her grip. “You don’t know what you’re doing, what you’re opening yourself up to.” Leawyn searched his eyes, pleading.

“He’s your brother, Xavier. Please, I don’t . . .” Leawyn paused, looking down and swallowing against the emotion choking her. Xavier tipped her chin up with his finger, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“You don’t, what?” Xavier prompted.

“I don’t—” Leawyn exhaled shakily. “I don’t want to lose you. Not now. Not when I feel like I’m finally starting to find you.”

Xavier reached up, wiping the tear that fell away from her cheek. “You won’t,” Xavier promised softly.

He gripped her cheeks with both hands, Leawyn’s hands flying up to grip his wrists. Xavier could feel her hand shaking as he turned her head, urging her to reach up to meet his kiss. She opened her mouth, and Xavier could taste the salt of her tears as his tongue lightly brushed against her own.

The kiss was tender, but searing. Xavier could taste her fear and desperation. Finally, Xavier pulled back, staring into her watery gaze for a moment before he turned and tugged out of Leawyn’s grasp.

Xavier met Tristan in the middle of the ring, facing him calmly.

“Last chance to back out of this, little brother.”

Tristan smirked, his answer clear when all he didw as unsheathe his sword. Xavier’s gaze narrowed, but he followed suit and unsheathed his as well.

There was no build up. No need to prolong the fight, testing to find out their strengths and weaknesses. They knew exactly what kind of warriors they were, and they had no weakness.

Like two bears, they charged each other, sparks flying when their blades met.

Leawyn felt sick, her stomach revolting at what she was watching. Xavier and Tristan’s movements were so fast, it was hard to keep up. Unlike Cantos and Tyronian’s fight, Xavier and Tristan’s battle was almost graceful. It was a dangerous dance between two predators, both equally skilled in the art of killing and swordplay.

It was a battle that would be told for centuries, the day the greatest warrior in their history fought against his own brother.

Tristan attacked first, swinging his sword wide. Xavier jerked back, ducking against another attack. Xavier pressed forward, making a sweep for Tristan’s stomach. Tristan jumped away, just as quickly pushing forward and swinging his sword overhead and down towards Xavier’s neck. Xavier spun, his sword already up to block Tristan’s next blow.

Their movements were fast, with no hesitation in their attacks. They met each other with speed, force, and precision. Tristan attacked again, his wrist flicking out his sword and coming at Xavier in a blur. Xavier blocked, pushing Tristan back, but Tristan was quick in his retaliation. He swung around, slashing at Xavier’s neck. Xavier deflected, but Tristan pushed forward, putting on more pressure. Their swords shook and wavered, each gaining and losing ground. Tristan swung, his fist colliding with Xavier’s jaw and knocking him sideways.

“Oh, Gods,” Leawyn breathed in horror, watching as Tristan slashed at Xavier’s exposed back. Xavier narrowly avoided the strike, whirling around and bringing his sword up.

Xavier pushed Tristan back with enough force to make him stumble. Xavier advanced, and gripping his sword with both hands, he swung wide and low. The blade caught Tristan’s feet, and with a yell, Xavier swung up, sweeping Tristan off his feet and landing him on his back.

Leawyn shot up from her seat as Xavier advanced, his sword held lightly at his side. Xavier lashed out, slashing at Tristan and cutting across his forearm, drawing first blood. Tristan hissed, yanking his arm back.

Leawyn didn’t see an end. They were too skilled, too practiced. The clangs of steel were so consistent it blended into one sound. But then, things changed; it happened so quickly.

Tristan struck downward. Xavier deflected, elbow pointing out with his down-strike. Xavier used interlocking blades to his advantage, moving them in a circle, wrist flicking. Tristan’s sword went flying. Xavier brought his blade up, slashing Tristan across the face.

Leawyn stumbled forward, everything seeming to move in slow motion.

Tristan looked up as his brother approached. Blood streamed down and hindered his vision in his left eye. The ragged column from Tristan’s left temple down to mid-cheek was filled with blood, the skin no longer there. He was defeated.

“You never should have challenged me, baby brother,” Xavier told him, glaring down at him. “Now, I have to kill the only relative I have left. Why?” Xavier asked. “Why did you challenge?”

Tristan raised his chin, sneering. “Because you’re weak. You lost your way. Blinded by your obsession.” Tristan spat blood at Xavier’s feet. He looked up at him, his smile bloody and scornful. “She’ll always hate you. You’re chasing a dream, Xavier.”

Xavier’s knuckles turned white around his sword hilt. He slowly moved it so it hovered at the side of Tristan’s neck.

“Farewell, brother.”

Xavier raised his sword high, about to deliver the killing blow.

“
No
!”

Xavier stumbled forward, barely catching himself in time so he didn’t slice Leawyn in half. She had caught his wrist with both hands.

“Leawyn, what—”

“You can’t kill him!” Leawyn cried, pushing Xavier’s hand down. Xavier tore himself out of her grasp, rounding on her with anger.

“You care for him? You would risk your life for him? Answer me!” Xavier growled, his voice dripping with jealously.

“No!” Leawyn cried, shoving him back hard enough so she stood between him and Tristan. “I care for you!”

“Then get out of my way,” Xavier growled, reaching to shove her aside. Leawyn resisted, pushing him back again. “If you kill him, you’ll never forgive yourself. His death will haunt you, and you’ll never come back. I can’t let you kill him.”

Xavier stared at Leawyn in shock. Her eyes were vivid blue, made brighter with the glistening tears in her eyes. Her expression was intense, compressed with pain and some other emotion Xavier couldn’t pinpoint. He shook his head, hefting his sword higher in his hand.

“You know our laws. I have to do it.”

“You don’t,” Leawyn beseeched, near tears. “Change the rules. Banish him. Let him live the life of exile. You don’t have to kill him, Xavier.”

Xavier held her gaze for a long time, searching for answers in her blue eyes. He glanced down at Tristan, who was staring at Leawyn like he couldn’t quite believe she was really there. Xavier looked around him, at all the eyes staring at him. They were waiting for him to uphold tradition.

Xavier looked to Leawyn again. She gazed at him as if she saw something in him. A lightness. She looked at him as if he wasn’t a monster. She had faith he would make the right decision. She was protecting him. Trying to save his soul from the torment of killing someone he loved.

He didn’t want to let her down.

Leawyn recoiled at the scream of frustration and anger Xavier let out, slamming his sword in the ground. She sobbed in relief, willingly moving out of the way as Xavier stormed over to her.

“You can never come back,” Xavier growled down at Tristan, wrenching his sword up and sheathing it.

“Tristan of the Izayges is exiled. Any who try to stop his escape will answer to me,” Xavier yelled, turning in a circle so everyone met eyes with him. Xavier grabbed Leawyn around the wrist, tugging her along with him.

“Tyronian, take my place,” Xavier ordered darkly as he passed him.

Xavier didn’t look back to see if Tyronian followed his orders. He never once turned around when Tristan was hauled to his feet and escorted away.

Xavier didn’t look back. Not once.

I
T WAS STRANGE
to be walking through the camp and not seeing a single person. Not that it was surprising; they were all witnessing the 
Choosing
. Leawyn glanced at her husband, trying to get a read on his mood.

He was still dragging her behind him, his steps quick—almost urgent. His guard was up, his emotionless mask in place. She couldn’t get a read on how mad he was, which made her nervous. It never boded well for Leawyn when he was mad at her.

She stumbled, her outstretched arm jolting as she started to fall while Xavier kept walking. He turned, simultaneously catching her, and hauling her up into his arms and over his shoulder, growing impatient with her.

Leawyn wisely kept her mouth shut as she rolled her eyes behind the safety of Xavier’s back. It wasn’t 
her
 fault he walked too fast for her to keep up.

A few tense moments later, Xavier reached their tent, pulling aside the curtain and storming in. He swung Leawyn around so she was facing him, holding her by the globes of her ass. Her legs wrapped around his waist.

Xavier walked forward, his eyes staring into Leawyn’s with a strange intensity that had Leawyn’s heart pounding in both fear and excitement.

“Xavier . . .” Leawyn bit her lip uncertainly, watching his eyes zero in on the action. Leawyn’s back met the modest bed pallet that was provided in their tent, and Xavier followed her down so he hovered over her.

Goose bumps broke out on Leawyn’s skin when she felt the long, hard length resting against her thigh through his breeches.

“What you did today . . .” Xavier’s voice trailed off, teeth grinding together as his fists clenched. Leawyn’s heart pounded, fear gripping her throat.

“Xavier, I’m sorry. Please, I didn’t—”

Leawyn quieted when Xavier put a finger to her soft lips. Her breathing accelerated as he stood, his hands going to his belt and undoing it. His swords clattered to the ground, followed by his pants. He gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside. Xavier stared down at her, fully naked. His erection touched his stomach, hard and ready.

“Xavier . . .” Leawyn said nervously, sitting up so she could scoot backwards. Xavier reached for her as his knee touched the bed, pulling her forward and effectively stopping her escape. Xavier’s rough hands trailed down her body, and before Leawyn knew what was happening, her dress was ripped over her head and landed with the rest of the clothes.

Xavier gripped her cheeks with both hands, tilting her head up, positioning her right where he wanted. They both exhaled hard when Xavier slammed his lips onto hers in a searing kiss. He wrenched his mouth away, and Leawyn stared at him dumbly, a bit dazed.

“What you did today,” Xavier said, his voice a husky growl, “no one has ever done anything like that for me before.” Xavier lowered her to the bed again, his hand burying between her legs. Leawyn gasped, back arching as he brushed his thumb against her nub, slowly rubbing.