Page 54 of Love of the Bladed Dove
She reached for the thin straps of her shift, letting them slide down her shoulders. As the fabric slipped lower, so did her hands—graceful, deliberate—until they reached the shredded heap of her gown at her feet…And the hidden blade within it. Fingers closing around the hilt, she moved in one swift, fluid motion and threw.
The dagger sliced through the air—silent, deadly—aimed for his throat. But he moved. Faster than she ever could’ve anticipated. The blade caught his ear, carving a bloody line before embedding deep into the wall behind him. He roared, sounding more beast than man. Before Layla could react, he ripped the dagger free and lunged. His hand fisted in her hair, yanking her forward before slamming her against the bedpost. Her skull cracked hard against the wood, white-hot pain exploding behind her eyes.
"You fucking bitch!" King Ivar snarled, slamming her back onto the bed with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. She struggled, kicked, clawed—but he was too strong, her limbs no match against his bulk. He pinned her with one knee to her stomach, pressing the flat of his knife against her throat. The metal was icy, unforgiving as she felt it cutting into the delicate skin. Forcing her to now hold perfectly still or chance swift death. His other hand roamed with grotesque familiarity, pawing over her waist, her hips, her chest.
“You think you’re brave?” he growled into her ear. “You think you’re untouchable? I’ll show you what it means to be powerless.” Helicked a slow, wet strip up her cheek. Layla choked back a sob, bile rising in her throat. The sheer violation, the animalistic glee in his touch, sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. Her shift tore with an ugly rip, the sound louder than the thunder of blood in her ears. Cold air swept across her skin, making her flinch. The sound of King Ivar’s grunts as he hastily ripped at the laces of his pants before they hit the stone floor sent ice down her spine.Endure. Live. Save Ciana.Her mind clung to the words like a lifeline, a prayer she screamed inside while her body froze in terror.
He grabbed her by the hair again as he roughly forced her stomach down against the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Her arms thrashed even with the the tip of the blade at the side of her throat. She couldn’t help the instinct to get away. To not allow this to happen. Her nails clawing at the bedding, but he was stronger—drunk with power, heavy with malice.
He snarled against her ear. "I’ll make sure you never forget this." She whimpered, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her body shaking uncontrollably as he shoved himself into her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, burning her skin with their helplessness. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel everything: his hands, his cruelty, his intent as he was forcing himself on her again and again.Endure. Live. Save—
A deafening crash shattered the air. The sound of a door exploding off its hinges, wood splintering and flying across the room. And then, in an instant, the world shifted.
“What the fu—” The King’s final words gurgled in his throat, cut short by a sickening, wet sound. Layla didn’t have time to scream before his full weight collapsed onto her back, slamming the air from her lungs.She buckled beneath him, her arms pinned under the dead weight of a man she hated more than death itself. Then—silence.
Her eyes cracked open just in time to see it. His head, detached from his body, lay sideways on the bed beside her. Eyes glassy, lips parted in a frozen snarl of ferocity. Layla’s breath caught. Her scream never came as she was overtaken with absolute shock. Then the weight was gone. Yanked off of her in a blur.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders and flipped her gently onto her back.Theron. She didn’t think, didn’t breathe, didn’t even register the wetness on her cheeks before she lunged into his chest, arms locking around his neck. In the safety of his arms, Layla sobbed—guttural, shaking sobs that ripped through her like a tidal wave. Her fists curled into his dress shirt as she pressed her face into his throat, as if she could disappear into him and never come back.
“It’s okay, Layla. I’ve got you. It’s okay now,” Theron whispered, voice cracking as he rubbed circles into her back. His arms wrapped around her with a desperate tenderness, like if he let go, she might shatter, but she already had. Minutes passed—how many, she couldn’t say—before she finally began to breathe again. The violent shudders dulled to a quiet ache. Her body loosened just enough to pull away, only far enough to see his face.
“I’m so sorry we weren’t here sooner,” he said, voice thick with guilt as he cupped her cheek, eyes swimming with pain and rage.
“How did you even…?” Layla blinked, eyes foggy with tears, as she turned her head toward the splintered doorway. Sir Edwin and Kain stood like sentinels in the flickering candlelight, weapons bloodied and waiting, eyes scanning the hall. Her heart leapt at the sight of them.
“Of course you didn’t follow my orders,” she whispered through a ragged laugh, tears still streaking her cheeks.
Kain’s eyes met hers. Despite the fury behind them, his expression softened as a crooked, knowing smile curved his lips. “We do have a history of ignoring your better judgment, Dove.”
Theron helped her sit up, still cradling her protectively. But urgency returned fast. “I’m sorry to ask, but… can you move? We don’t know how long we’ve got before the rest of the guards follow the blood trail we left,” he said, glancing over his shoulder toward the corridor. Layla nodded instinctively, but the motion halted as a wave of awareness crashed over her. She was utterly naked.
“Oh Gods,” she gasped, face igniting with shame as she snatched the blood-specked blanket from Theron’s hands and yanked it over her chest. Her eyes flicked around the room, her shredded gown like torn silk and carnage at her feet. Her stomach twisted anew at the thought of what they must have seen, what she looked like when they entered.
Theron turned his head, giving her space, as he reached for a fresh cloth to wipe the blood off her arms. “Don’t worry,” he said gently. “You’re safe now, that’s what matters.” Layla barely nodded, her cheeks still blazing. She hadn’t even realized the tears had returned until Kain appeared beside her, holding out what remained of her shift.
“Dove,” he said, voice light but eyes deadly serious. “We can talk about this whole… view… later, or we can go rescue your sister now. Dealer’s choice.” He winked. The tension snapped—replaced by that familiar spark of indignation that only Kain could ignite.
Layla snatched the shift from his hand and jabbed a finger at him. “Turn around.”
He chuckled, turning on command. “My eyes are sealed.”
She pulled the shift over her head, still shaking slightly, and stood on unsteady legs between the two Drakaren brothers. Her slip clung to her, sheer and with a long tear up the side, but it was all she had. There was no time to care. As she reached for the small blanket to wipe the blood from her arms, her gaze fell to the shredded gown at her feet—and she made her decision.Let them see. Let the world know exactly what the King had tried to take… and the fate he earned in return. She was still standing. Battered, bloodied—but unbroken. And now, she would save her sister.
So… is someone going to tell me how?” Layla’s voice cracked as she spoke, breath hitching while she scrubbed at her arms with shaking hands. The blood only smeared, refusing to disappear. She’d learned something tonight—a decapitated corpse collapsing on top of you left more blood than she ever could’ve imagined. Her gaze flicked between the three men standing around her, each one stained nearly as badly as she was.
“The minute I turned and saw you were gone…” Theron’s voice broke, his jaw clenched tight with fury and guilt. His eyes held hers like he was afraid to let go. “Kain told me. He told me everything.”
Her head snapped toward Kain. He didn’t flinch under her scrutiny. He stood tall, arms crossed over his blood-slick chest, wearing that damned smirk like a crown. Like he’d do it all again without hesitation. Layla shot him a glare sharp enough to slice. Theron continued, stepping slightly in front of her. “We followed as quickly, and as quietly, as we could. But the quiet part didn’t last.” She looked at them again—reallylooked. The blood. The torn clothes. The bruises already blooming beneath their armor. Her lips parted in horror.
“Oh…” It was all she could manage.
“You led the way,” Kain said simply, as if describing a pleasant walk. “We just cleaned up behind you.”
Layla blinked. “Cleaned up…?”
“I told you,” Kain added with a raise of his brows. “I’d probably have to kill everyone with that brilliant plan of yours.” There was no regret in his voice. No hesitation. Just brutal honesty. Her jaw fell open. They hadslaughteredtheir way to her. Risked everything—forher. ForCiana. Gods,how many had they faced?
Theron stepped closer, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, grounding her. “You ready?” Layla swallowed hard and nodded once. Her body still shook, but the fire in her chest was burning again. Rage. Resolve. Love. Sir Edwin was still at the doorway. Kain took position beside him, knives at the ready. Theron gripped Layla’s wrist and pulled her close behind him, sword now in his other hand. The tension in the air was suffocating but they were as ready as they would ever be.
