Page 47 of Love of the Bladed Dove
“You think I’m joking,” he replied, eyes twinkling. “Every woman here wants to be you and every man wants to bed you in that dress.” She scoffed under her breath, but heat crept up her neck all the same.
Kain led her through the ballroom with exaggerated ease, pointing out tapestries and entertainers as they casually scouted exits and weak points. Their charade gave them time to memorize the space without drawing suspicion. At the front of the ballroom was a long, elevated table—lavish and half-filled. Two ornate chairs sat empty in the center. King Ivar and his bride-to-be, no doubt. Just as the thought crossed her mind, trumpets blared.
The crowd parted as the ballroom doors opened once again. King Ivar strode in, basking in the attention like an animal in heat. He wore a navy tailcoat embroidered in gold, his ivory pants stiffly pressed, and a golden cape draped over one shoulder like a badge of vanity. Layla’s stomach twisted at the very sight of this monster.
“My people and friends from the North,” he called out, voice booming. “Thank you for attending the celebrations this weekend!” A round of cheers erupted. “I hope you enjoyed the courtyard festivities earlier….Now tonight we feast and dance…Then tomorrow, the real event begins!” He raised his goblet high. “I am thrilled to gift one of my northern neighbors the precious fertile treasure of the South” More cheers erupted and Layla’s stomach dropped.“Now sadly, my bride-to-be is feeling bashful, so we may see her later. But allow me to give you a preview of what you’ll be bidding on in the morning!” The ballroom hushed.
Doors burst open, and a procession of soldiers entered. Layla pushed up on her toes, peering over heads and then she saw her.Aerilynn.Her sister looked fragile as she shivered in a tattered ballgown. Bruises marred her porcelain skin, her hair a mess of tangled curls. Layla’s vision tunneled in response. Her body screamed to move, to run to her sister, to fight and tear apart anyone who got in her way but Kain’s grip tightened on her arm.
The King grabbed Aerilynn’s hips and barked, “Look at these childbearing hips! She is ready for you!” Cheers. Laughter. Layla wanted to scream. To throw her blade and cut out the King’s throat where he stood.
“Stay with Theron and Eddy,” Kain whispered suddenly. He slipped from her side and vanished into the crowd with Xaden and Sparrow. Theron appeared at her elbow almost immediately, guiding her arm into his.
“What’s happening?” She choked out, torn between helplessly watching her sister and wanting answers.
“I’ll explain soon. I promise.” His hand covered hers, steady and strong. She tried to bolt forward as guards began pulling Aerilynn back out through the doors. Theron held her firm. “Just wait. Trust me.” And so she did. Barely.
When the crowd dispersed again, Theron pulled her toward the dance floor. “What are you doing?” she snapped under her breath. Heturned, bowed, and offered his hand. When she didn’t move, he stepped forward, spun her into him, and began to dance. “Theron—what the hell—”
He pulled her close, one hand steady at her waist, and lowered his voice as he guided her across the floor—away from the walls, away from listening ears. “Kain and the others are following the guards to find where your sisters are being kept. Sir Edwin’s in position for a distraction. Once we have eyes on their location, we’ll act. We’ve got them, Layla.” She blinked at him, stunned. The words cut through the panic like a blade through fog. She nodded and let herself lean into his hold, her head resting on his shoulder as he continued to lead her gently around the floor.
As the music faded, they made their way to the bar and pretended to sip champagne. “This isn’t the time,” Theron said quietly, “but I want to tell you something.” She warily turned to fully look at him. “You look beautiful tonight. Always—but especially tonight.” The words hit harder than they should. She looked down, face flushing. She hated that her body still reacted to him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He stepped closer, brushing a kiss against her cheek. She leaned into it for the briefest moment before straightening, trying to keep her composure. But something shifted. Theron’s body tensed. His shoulders squared and jaw tightened with visible strain, prompting Layla to slowly turn around to see what was causing his alarm. And what she discovered, shocked her to her very core.
King Ivar stood directly before her, his hand outstretched. “May I have this dance?”
The room spun but Layla placed her hand in his with forced grace anyway, and curtseyed. “My King.”
Daring to glance behind her, she saw Theron’s face—dark and murderous.
King Ivar led her to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting far too low on her back as he did. “I noticed you the moment I walked in,” he purred.
Layla forced a smile. “Isn’t this a ball in honor of your bride?”
“She’s bashful. I, however, am not.” His hand dropped lower as he spoke. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear. “If your husband minds, he can watch. Or my men can entertain him while we’re busy.” Revulsion crawled up her spine. She could barely breath, she wanted to vomit and kill all at the same time. But using every ounce of strength she could muster, she attempted to calm her breathing and plaster that damned practiced smile on her face. But she was struggling. She was failing. It was too hard. This was too hard. He had taken so much from her…
“May I cut in?”
Relief slammed into her chest at the sight of Kain. But just as quickly, it was chased by sharp-edged worry. Of course he would show up like this. Fearless. Defiant. Infuriating.
“We aren’t finished,” King Ivar growled, voice rising with authority. Kain took a single step forward, eyes fixed on the king’s. Calm. Unshaken. Dangerous.
“I think you are,” he said, quiet but cutting—like a blade pressed to the throat. King Ivar blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. He clappedKain on the shoulder, not in mockery, but with the grudging admiration of a man who knew strength when he saw it.
“Bold. Sharp. I like that. I could use someone like you in my guard.”
“I’m good. Thanks,” Kain said flatly. Not cocky. Just aware of exactly how much power he carried.
The King just grinned and sauntered away. “I hope to see you later,” he added, eyes raking her chest. Layla nearly gagged at the sight. But Kain swiftly took her hand and waist, pulling her back into a dance and away from the vile man.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice calm but with what sounded like a hint of concern. She nodded, barely, before the reason why they were even hear came slamming back into her head.
“Where’s Aerilynn and Ciana?!”
“We followed the guards. Theron’s already heading in.”
