How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1) (49 page)

Xavier pulled his arm away. The blank glare was more terrifying than any other look he’d ever given Tyronian.

“I took your advice. I let her go,” Xavier said, his voice monotone. He looked out to the distance, his mask wavering for a split second before he brought it back up. “Get ready. It will be dark soon.”

With nothing else left to say, Xavier walked away to get ready to face the army that had eluded him.

He had a score to settle.

How had Leawyn’s life get so messed up so fast?

She couldn’t believe what just happened. How could Xavier send her away?

I want you to go, and I don’t want you to come back.

She hasn’t been able to stop crying, or Killix—no matter how many times she tried.

It was like he knew he was supposed to carry her as far away as he could.

The sun had set a long time ago, and Leawyn was sick with worry and “what if’s.’”

Had Asten attacked?

If he did, were the Samaritan winning or losing?

Was Xavier
alive
? Was Tyronian?

Leawyn couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled Killix’s reins so hard, it snapped his head back. Killix showed his displeasure by skidding to a stop and rearing up on his hind legs. He landed on his feet hard, stomping in place and throwing his head in anger. Leawyn climbed down from him while she had the chance. Killix snorted behind her and Leawyn heard him come up behind her.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Leawyn told Killix angrily as she paced back and forth in front of him.

Leawyn knew how pointless it was to be talking to a horse since they didn’t talk back to you, but she didn’t care. Thanks to her husband (Or is it ex-husband now?) she had no one else to talk to. Leawyn’s anger fought with her sadness when she thought of Xavier.

“That bastard!” Leawyn hissed. She had risked her life to get back to him. She had told him she was carrying his child and he sent her
away?

“How can he do that!” Leawyn shouted, stomping abruptly and spinning around to face Killix. Killix’s ears flicked forward at her raised voice.

“He took everything from me! Do you know how many times I wanted to run away from him? I wanted to leave, and he made me stay!” Leawyn ranted.Leawyn shoulders sagged, and she flopped down on ground, emotionally drained.

“I thought things were getting better between us,” Leawyn lamented.

Killix bent his head down, nudging Leawyn’s shoulder with his wet nose. He sensed her sadness. Leawyn reached up and held his face to her chest, hugging him close. She scratched behind his ears.Leawyn didn’t move from her spot, and after awhile Killix got bored of her and started to graze.While Killix chomped on the grass, everything Xavier had ever said to her replayed in her mind.

You will become my wife, Leawyn.

You’ll never escape me, Leawyn. Wherever you are, I’ll find you.

Every single distinct moment between them came to her like a flood. The memories came to her one after another—the good, and the bad, until it was a continuous stream.

You are the most beautiful flower, Leawyn. Don’t let anyone crush you . . . even me.

You’re the only thing I can’t stand to lose.

I’m going to make you love me.

I don’t deserve you. I never did.

Leawyn shot to her feet, heart pounding. All this time, Leawyn thought Xavier had the power, that he controlled her—but she was wrong.Leawyn had the power over
him
. Xavier didn’t get to drive her away.

She was going back.

Killix must have sensed her resolution because he came up beside her, rippling with energy and ready to head into what would be undoubtedly a dangerous journey.

Whoever was reborn into Killix was an amazing warrior in his lifetime.

“Run hard, Killix,” Leawyn whispered into his ear when she climbed up his back. She barely had to tap Killix’s sides before he shot off, clumps of dirt and grass soaring behind him as his hooves flew over the ground, going the opposite direction as before.

X
AVIER HAD A
moment of déjà vu.

The camp was up in flames, and all around him were people fighting for their lives. He grudgingly admitted that Asten was smart with his battle planning—but so was Xavier.

Just as Leawyn promised, their enemy attacked at nightfall. Fittingly, the moon was kidnapped by a thick fog that had come so swiftly, Xavier felt it was the great Goddess Ianna, preparing herself to watch the battle and judge who was to be reborn into her precious warhorses.

Xavier had no plan of dying today, and in such, he would not be joining the fate of his forefather Saviero.

Asten’s army had been the one to attack first, and as much as Xavier hated to admit it, he did it creatively. Huge balls of kindling had been set alight with flames and rolled down the incline. It was a tactic meant to catch them off guard and eliminate most of their men. It would have worked, too, if Xavier had not prepared his own surprise tactic.

While there were casualties with Asten’s attack, it wasn’t the amount Xavier was sure Asten had hoped.

The tents had been empty.

Xavier had waited until the army had charged down the hill before he revealed himself with a valley of arrows tipped with fire.

The sound of their warriors colliding with each other was akin to the crash of thunder.

The Izayges, Asori, and Siraces warriors were strong—but so were Asten’s. Xavier had no idea where Leawyn’s friend had managed to get this many men. Xavier could admit they were outnumbered. Where did they come from?

It seemed, for the first time in a long while, the Samaritan’s had a worthy challenger. But the foot soldiers weren’t the ones Xavier wanted to challenge. He wanted the leader.

Just the thought of Asten brought Xavier’s bloodlust to the surface. He hacked off the arm of a man who tried to slice his side; Xavier’s sword was a blur when he swung. He was moving on to his next victim before the body even hit the ground.

His sword effortlessly fell into a pattern of strikes both the offensive and defensive. Xavier didn’t know who was winning. He didn’t care the night was reverberating with men dying, swords clashing, and sounds of victory. His sole focus was on the man who was decapitating Xavier’s tribesmen as easily as Xavier himself, which could only mean one thing—he was the leader.

Just then, the man in question looked up, hazel eyes colliding with Xavier’s. The hate that flashed in their depths and contorted his face was all the confirmation he needed.

He had found Asten.

They cut a path towards each other with a vengeance, bodies dropping with each step they took until they stood in front of each other, not but a foot apart, and stared each other down as they prepared to partake in what was sure to be the fiercest battle of the night.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” Asten called out to Xavier loudly so his voice wasn’t drowned out by the sounds around them.

“What do you want?” Xavier said in reply, skipping to the point.

“I want you to die.” Asten’s expression filled with menace. “I want what’s rightfully mine.”

Anger made Xavier’s hands grip his sword tighter.

“You mean my wife?” He kept his face emotionless, but felt satisfaction when Asten’s face turned red with his anger at the taunt.

“She won’t be yours for long,” Asten replied self-assuredly. “You’ll be dead and she’ll be in my bed tonight, and every night after.”

Xavier’s face hardened.

“That will never happen.”

Then he lunged.

Leawyn was pleasantly surprised to find she wouldn’t be the only one charging head-long into battle on horseback.

She should have known the Samaritan warriors would fight with their war horses—they were known for their incredible horsemanship, after all.

Few have noticed her yet, and Leawyn supposed that was understandable considering how much chaos there was. It was an advantage she gladly took, and she didn’t take it for granted. Leawyn reached back, yanked an arrow, and had it sailing in the air before she fully registered she’d raised her bow.

If the fighting warriors didn’t notice her before, they did now.

Steel met steel in a flurry of parries and thrusts. Nothing was held back as Xavier and Asten fought. There was no toying with each other; they didn’t test each other’s skills. It was a dance between two predators who had everything to lose. Their movements were practiced, precise, and quick.

Asten lurched forward, making a daring jab for Xavier’s throat. Xavier brought his sword up on reflex, neck straining back from the tip of glistening steel. Asten pushed forward, their swords shaking as they both wrestled to keep from being cut.

“I thought you were supposed to be the greatest warrior?” Asten taunted. “I’m almost disappointed.”

Xavier growled. That was the second time Asten had gotten the leg up on him and Asten knew it.

“At least you’ve heard of me.”

Xavier knocked Asten’s sword away from him and swung a right hook straight into Asten’s cheek. Asten stumbled back, blood trickling out of his nose.

Xavier didn’t let him recover, and this time, Asten was the one who brought his sword up to narrowly avoid getting his neck sliced in half. Xavier pushed forward, his speed leaving Asten no choice but to try and deflect every shot aimed at him.

Their deadly dance continued.