Page 55 of Love of the Bladed Dove
Sir Edwin swiftly glanced down the hall. “Clear! Go—now!” Kain darted across the hall like lightning. The bolt on the door clanged under his hands. Layla’s heart thundered in her chest.Click.Ciana’s door flew open with a crash.We’re here, Ciana.We’ve got you.
Chapter twenty-five
Theron.
Theron led Layla across the corridor like a shield, every nerve in his body strung tight. Kain slipped through the doorway first, blade drawn, eyes sharp and scanning. Sir Edwin remained in the hall outside, sword raised, listening. Ready to give warning if so much as a whisper of boots echoed their way. But Layla didn't wait for the all-clear. She tore free from Theron’s grasp and darted around him, feet silent against the cold stone. Her bloodied slip clung to her body as she launched herself onto the bed.
“Ciana,” she breathed, voice cracking. Her sister was seated stiffly in the center of the mattress, arms wrapped tightly around herself. The room was cold and bare. Nothing but some sheet and pillow, no furniture, no coverings, no comfort. A cell dressed up like a bedroom.
At the sound of her name, Ciana flinched violently. But as soon as her eyes landed on Layla’s face, everything broke. Joy cracked through terror. She scrambled forward and the sisters clung to one another like a dam against a raging river. Layla buried her face in Ciana’s shoulder as Ciana wept openly. There was no time, but they held each other like they might never get the chance again.
“Are you okay?” Layla asked, voice shaking, panic rising despite herself.
“Yes. I—yes. Gods, what happened to you?” Ciana touched the blood on her sister’s temple, her throat, her shoulder.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re getting you out of here.”
“There’s no way,” Ciana said hopelessly. “The window’s sealed. The drop’s too long.” Theron stepped to the glass. Two stories. Maybe more. His bloodied hand pressed against the pane.
“We’ve done worse,” he muttered.
Sir Edwin slipped inside and shut the door behind him, his voice low and urgent. “We’ve got company. They’re close.”
“It doesn’t lock from the inside,” Ciana whispered, almost apologetically.
“We won’t be here long enough to need it,” Theron answered. His eyes swept the room once, landing on the bed. “Layla. Kain. Sheets. Now. Tie them tight.” He tore off his ruined shirt, wrapping the fabric around his already-bleeding fist.
They quickly yanked the linens free, tying knots fast but strong.. Ciana joined in, hastily helping. Kain secured the first end around the bedframe as Layla raced the rest to Theron. He took them without a word and looked to Sir Edwin.
“You’re first. Clear the landing then help the girls down.”
The young commander nodded briskly and moved to the window. Theron breathed once, then punched through the glass. It shattered with a thunderous crash, shards spraying outward. Wind roared into the room. Cold air, sharp and biting, replaced the still heat of fear.
“Go!” Theron commanded. Sir Edwin moved. He climbed to the sill, gripped the rope of sheets, and slid down into the dark. Seconds passed.
“Clear!” he shouted from below. Theron turned, gripped Ciana by the waist, and lifted her to the ledge. Her whole body was shaking viciously.
“Hand over hand,” he instructed gently. “Don’t rush. Sir Edwin’s down there. He’ll catch you if you slip.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”
She gave a shallow nod, eyes wide with terror, but began her descent anyway. Her foot slipped immediately and she let out a scream. Theron instinctively lunged, catching her wrists, ignoring the glass biting into his forearms as he dragged her back to the sill.
“Look at me,” he ordered, holding her gaze with pure steel. “You. Can. Do. This.” Ciana nodded again. This time, steadier. And she began to climb down.
“Layla. Go.” Theron turned to her, urgency in his voice. Just then, a loud thud slammed against the door. Then another.
Theron lunged to brace the door beside Kain, muscles straining as another brutal crash hit the other side. Dust rained from the frame, the hinges groaning. The Bartorians were here, and they were out of time.
And then he saw her.
Layla stood by the open window, frozen. Her eyes fixed on the chaos, wide and shining. And in that split second, he knew—she realized it too. They weren’t all getting out.
Then she moved. Before he could call out, she ran to him, and her lips crashed against his—fierce, breathless, final. His arms closed around her instinctively, holding her like he could stop time. Like he could shield her from this with just his body and will alone. And Gods, he didn’t want to let her go.
She pulled back just slightly, her hand on his jaw, eyes burning into his soul. “Theron…” she whispered, a promise and a plea wrapped in his name. And he knew—whatever happened next, she was about to do something reckless. Something brave. Something that might tear him in two.
