Page 31 of Love of the Bladed Dove
“Did you know?” she demanded, voice tight, eyes blazing with betrayal. “Did you know she planned to kill my family?” Theron opened his mouth—but nothing came out. He hadn’t known. Not exactly. But deep down, some part of him had sensed it. And that unspoken truth was now a noose around his throat.
“I won’t let her hurt you,” he said finally, his voice low. Steady. A desperate vow as he reached out to touch her face. Remind her he would do anything to keep her safe.
Layla let out a ragged breath. “Gods, Theron—this isn’t about me!” Her voice cracked as she stepped out of his reach. “I’m not worried about myself—I’m worried about my family! My mother, my sisters. They're still in that castle and she plans to murder them!”
Her breath came faster now, he could see the fury unraveling into something raw and aching. “So what are you going to do?” she asked, voice sharpening. “Stand there with that damned sword of yours and watch it happen? Are you going to let it happen?”
He stared at her, body taut with tension. His mind was spinning so fast he didn’t even know what to think. To do.
“If I ask you to stop it… if I ask you to protect them, too—will you?” Her voice was barely a whisper now. “Will you fight for them, Theron? Or will you kill them yourself if your mother commands it?”
He knew his silence was deafening, but he couldn’t defy a direct order. That went against everything that had been engrained in him hisentire life. No matter what the order was or how he felt about it. He had to obey his Queen…
He watched, heart splintering, as Layla’s eyes brimmed with tears—but none fell. Instead, her lips curved into something fractured and cruel, and it broke something open in his chest.
“So then your plan is what?” she spat, the venom in her voice cutting clean through him. “Go slaughter my family and then have me waiting for you in your hut? Be your prisoner for life and hope I still want to fuck you?!”
He took a step toward her. He had no answers. He just needed her. To hold her. To keep her safe if he couldn’t do anything else right. But she instantly recoiled. Like his nearness was fire. Like it repulsed her.
“Don’t,” she breathed. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Every word that followed was a dagger, deliberate and merciless. “You may keep me here. You may force me to be your prisoner for life. But I will never forgive you for this.” Then she turned—sharp, final—and walked away.
Theron didn’t move. Couldn’t. He had spent his life honing steel, commanding men, living by the sword and by his queen’s word. His loyalty to his people had never wavered. But now, his people and his heart stood on opposite ends of a blade. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck until it hurt.How could he follow through with this? How could he not?
He turned slowly to head back to the camp. The firelit huddle of his warriors awaited, his mother’s voice no doubt already dictating the final movements. Theron’s steps were heavy. The only clarity he had was this: he would kill every Bartorian he found inside those castle walls. Ofthat he was certain. Butwhen it came to Graystonia—to Layla’s family… he didn’t know. Not yet. He wasn’t sure who he was anymore. All he knew was that Layla’s pain had become his own, and no battle plan could prepare him for the war now waging inside his chest.
Chapter sixteen
Layla.
Hours dragged by as Layla sat slumped against a tree, betrayal and heartache an inferno in her chest as the morning quickly crept in. After those moments with Theron, she'd allowed herself to foolishly hope. She had believed, just for a moment, that maybe she was no longer just a prisoner. But that fragile illusion was now shattered. Theron had chosen his mother, chosen war, chosen revenge… over her.
She stared bitterly around the forest at the Antonin warriors preparing to invade her home. The thrill of bloodlust was nearly tangible in the air, rippling off their armored bodies like heat waves. Even Sparrow, always so composed, practically vibrated with anticipationbeside her. She hated the calm before the storm. Hated being made to watch her world slip from her fingers while she sat like a caged animal.
She had spent hours running through every desperate plan she could conceive: take out the warriors closest to her, somehow slip inside the castle undetected, bypass both Antonins and Bartorians, find her family, and escape with them into the city—back to her own soldiers. But each plan crumbled faster than it formed. She sighed, her head thudding against the bark behind her. She was trapped. And they were all going to die.
The Antonin warriors began dispersing, slipping into their assigned routes like ghosts in the trees. Layla’s stomach twisted as she imagined the slaughter to come. That was when Kain appeared, stepping casually in front of her and Sparrow, like he hadn’t just been preparing for war.
“Change of plans,” Kain said, voice low. “You're leading my group into the castle. I'm staying with our little captive.” Layla’s eyes narrowed. Her heart rate spiked.What is he doing?
Sparrow blinked, his hand still resting on his blade. “I don’t believe you.”
Kain just shrugged, totally unbothered. “Well, Theron wouldn’t say this out loud but ” he leaned in slightly, “I’m kind of the better shot from a distance. You two are all about that up-close-and-personal thing. I interpreted this with his grunts, of course, but it's what his soulwas saying.” Layla almost rolled her eyes. Even now, Kain couldn’t resist being a smug ass.
Sparrow, however, remained stone-faced. “He’d be pissed if this plan went to shit because I trusted you.”
Kain shrugged. “That’s between you and his soul, friend. Now go kill some bad guys.” He gave Sparrow a casual salute, the smirk never leaving his face. Sparrow lingered a moment longer, eyes flicking between Layla and Kain, before finally nodding and jogging off into the woods. Kain turned to her then, and the grin he wore wasn’t teasing anymore—it was determined.
“Come on, Little Dove. Let’s go save your family.”
Layla’s heart leapt. “You’re helping me?!” she asked, breath catching. “…Why?”
He turned back to her with a slight groan, clearly annoyed. “Because unlike my brother, I don’t feel compelled to follow every command like it’s divine scripture.”
“But Theron…” Her voice faltered. “Did he send you?”
A pause. Kain’s expression shifted—something almost gentle in his voice. “He couldn’t say it. Not in front of them. But he knew I’d do what needed to be done.” A weight settled in her chest. Theron hadn’t blindly followed. He hadn’t bowed to the bloodshed of her family. When it mattered most, he’d chosen what was right. He’d chosen her.
