I saw the rage cloud his vision and he sprung at me.
I wasn't about to fight off a grieving man when I myself wanted nothing more than to die.
He wrapped his hands around my neck and pulled my back into his chest. He grunted with the strength he was having to exert and he yelled in anguish as he grieved for his friend.
Suddenly a man kicked in the door. I looked him over and I saw the man who killed my father.
My father's blood was still dripping off the knife and in one swift movement the old man released me and the young man shoved the knife through my body.
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A/N- ok guys. This is the last chapter. Thank you so much to all of my readers. Please please check out my other stories like Home for a day and the kill which are both short stories and Fake Me which is going to be a little longer. Thank you guys so much. Please vote comment and fan. I'm going to be coming out with a new story that's a Changed Greek Myth kinda story about if Hector's son survived
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He is my soldier. She is my Indian.
Historical FictionA soldier and an Indian. Each love what they cannot. Want what is forbidden. How will a young man at war and and a Indian girl find room for their love in their society? Or will they both be destined to fail.
