Page 46 of Love of the Bladed Dove (Drakaren #1)

“From what I saw, you know how to let a man grab your ass, but can you actually mingle ?” he teased.

“Guess we’ll find out.” His voice was light, mocking even but she didn’t miss the flash in his eyes, the flicker of tension in his jaw.

Something about the way he said it wasn’t just sarcasm.

She opened her mouth to fire back, but he tightened his arm around hers, pulling her snug to his side.

“Not now, Dove. You can yell at me in private later. Or do whatever else you want me to do. I’m flexible.

” He wiggled his eyebrows as that familiar grin slid into place.

Layla let out a soft huff, irritated by him and by herself for hating how easily he could fluster her.

They made their way toward the sword-fighting ring, pausing near a well-dressed couple who appeared too preoccupied with the match to notice their arrival. Kain tilted his head, watching the dueling men with theatrical interest.

“You know, darling,” he said just loudly enough to be overheard, “I do wonder why the King isn’t out here enjoying these delightful festivities. Seems a shame to miss it.”

Layla clasped her hands together with a breathy giggle, doing her best impression of a naive, overeager guest. “I was just saying the same! The castle is stunning—I can’t wait to see how the rest of the day unfolds.”

A nearby woman turned slightly, clearly eager to contribute. “Oh, the King won’t be out today,” she offered with a knowing tone. “He’s still handling the aftermath of the battle. But he’ll be at the wedding feast tonight.”

“Truly?” Layla gasped, eyes wide with feigned delight. “That’s wonderful! We were overjoyed to receive an invitation. I mean, who doesn’t love a wedding?”

“Oh, absolutely!” the woman gushed, her eyes glittering. “Plus we’re all hoping Prince Leif wins the auction in the morning. Of course, no one really wants a southern brat in the kingdom—but securing rights to that fertile land? Goodness, wouldn’t that make this the perfect weekend?”

Layla’s stomach clenched. Wait… what? The words echoed—impossible, incomprehensible.

Her sisters. Being auctioned off. Sold to the highest bidder like cattle.

Her mind reeled, the ground seemed to tilt beneath her feet.

Air caught in her throat, shallow and sharp, and for a terrifying heartbeat, she couldn't tell if she was breathing at all. A dull ringing filled her ears as the world narrowed and blurred at the edges. Her limbs felt weightless, like they belonged to someone else. Kain’s arm was still tucked through hers, solid and steady—but even that felt far away.

Distant. Unreachable. Her entire reality had cracked open in an instant, and all she could do was try not to shatter with it.

Without hesitation, Kain turned her toward him, his hand gently sliding up to her cheek as he tilted her face up to find his.

Those piercing emerald eyes burrowed deep into hers.

His voice was soft, intimate as he spoke, “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” The words washed over her, a startling contrast to her spiraling panic.

She tried to look away, but he caught her chin between his fingers.

“Don’t hide, Dove.” His voice lowered to a sensual murmur.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

” His eyes held hers as he leaned closer.

Her heart thundered, was he going to kiss her? Was she going to let him ?

Just when her lips parted in confusion or maybe anticipation, he veered to her ear instead.

“You better now? Thought I was going to lose you there for a second.” Her entire body went rigid.

Of course. It was a distraction. An act.

Anger and humiliation burned through her.

She ripped her arm free and stormed away.

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong?” Kain called, easily catching up with her.

She spun to face him, chest heaving. “You know what you did!”

He froze at her tone before his eyes narrowed in harrowing recognition.

“What exactly did I do that was so upsetting, Layla ?” Her name.

He’d never used it before. Not like that.

The seriousness in his voice stopped her anger cold.

She stared at him, breath caught, her temper suspended by uncertainty.

Then she yanked her arm away again and walked off, unwilling to confront whatever just passed between them.

“Yeah,” Kain muttered behind her, “that’s what I thought. ”

They continued to move through the crowd in silence for another hour.

Layla refused to play into whatever game Kain was attempting.

Refused to think about the way his fingers brushed hers when they passed too close or the heat of his body every time he leaned in to whisper something harmless, yet dangerously charming.

She refused. Or so she kept reminding herself .

Finally, they stopped near the champagne table. Kain reached to offer her a glass, but Layla’s attention was caught by two noblewomen standing just behind the tiered crystal display. The women spoke in hushed tones, but their sharp-edged words carried easily enough.

“I don’t care if that stupid Graystonian bitch is pretty,” one of the women sneered, swirling her drink so hard it nearly spilled.

“If we win the auction, imagine what Yssra could do with all that land… we would have it all.” Layla’s stomach twisted violently.

Her hands clenched at her sides, nails biting crescent moons into her palms. Burning indignation surged up her spine, hot and blinding—And without thinking, she reached for Kain’s hand.

Her fingers found his and locked tight, as if anchoring herself to something real.

Something solid. Something hers in a room full of vultures, already circling.

“Just breathe, Little Dove,” he whispered, barely turning toward her.

His voice was a steadying force, low and warm against the noise.

“We’ll save them before anything happens.

I promise.” She forced her eyes to his, grounding herself in their quiet fierceness.

His certainty helped her remember who she was, who she’d fought to become and what they were here to do.

But the women’s voices carried on, barbed with entitlement and ignorance.

“Frankly, I’m shocked Redmore even bothered to send delegates,” the second woman said coolly, adjusting the delicate lace cuff of her glove. “Everyone knows they don’t have the coin to place a serious bid.”

“Please,” the first scoffed, swirling her drink with a smirk. “You could say the same about Velastra.” She gave a sharp laugh. “Honestly, I’d stomach anyone winning but Xantar. I don’t trust anything that slithers out of those gods-forsaken mountains. ”

The second woman let out a bitter laugh.

“All that snow, and somehow it still manages to hide every secret ever whispered. No one knows what they’re planning up there.

” Layla’s heart stuttered. She glanced sideways at Kain, wondering if he’d caught it too.

He had . His eyes were already on her, unreadable now.

The mention of Xantar darkened his expression, if only briefly.

“Let’s go find the others,” she said under her breath, her tone sharp with purpose.

“It’s time to update the plan.” Kain nodded and slipped his hand from hers, but not before brushing a thumb once across her knuckles, subtle and comforting.

And then they were gone, slipping into the crowd like silk drawn through fingers.

As they turned toward the jousting arena.

Layla’s gaze swept the crowd—then stopped, fixating on a scene ahead.

Theron. Standing much too close to a woman.

One hand planted above her shoulder against a column.

He was smiling. Laughing. Flirting . The sight sucker-punched her.

She hadn’t even known Theron could smile like that.

Had he ever looked at her that way? Her blood boiled and on top of that, she knew she didn’t need to look to feel Kain’s eyes on her.

“Don’t say a damn word, Kain.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, though she didn’t miss the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Just then, Theron looked up and their eyes clashed. She watched in stewing anger as he turned to the woman, whispered something, and stepped back. The moment shattered as quickly as it formed. Theron approached, the smile gone, replaced by that stoic mask she knew all too well .

“We’ve got some information,” Kain said before the tension could boil over.

“So do I,” Theron replied, eyes never leaving Layla’s.

“Let’s find the others. Figure out our next move,” Kain interjected, breaking the standoff. Theron nodded, and they began walking. Layla fell into step between them, barely containing the blaze of anger seething inside her—every step beside him a battle not to explode.

Theron leaned in. “It didn’t mean anything,” he said under his breath. “I was just trying to get information.” Layla said nothing, her fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms. “Layla,” he tried again, quieter this time. “I was trying to help you. ”

She spun to face him, her voice low and venomous. “So much for never hurting me again.” Theron’s shoulders sank just enough for her to notice. She turned away and kept walking. Her sisters needed her. The mission mattered. Love, betrayal, confusion—all of it could wait. For now.