Page 54 of Love of the Bladed Dove (Drakaren #1)

Chapter twenty-five

Theron.

T heron 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.

“I’ll find you,” he said. “Just go.” But she didn’t and he knew that she wouldn’t.

“Take her!” Theron snapped, eyes locking on Kain. Kain turned, stunned.

“Get her out. That’s an order. You keep her safe, no matter what.”

He could never leave any other man to give their life for him—let alone Kain.

Despite everything, despite the chaos and bitterness and wounds between them, he was still his family.

His blood. His little brother. And Theron would never ask someone to do what he wasn’t willing to do himself.

If someone had to stay behind, it would be him. No hesitation. No regret.

Kain clenched his jaw, understanding the weight of what Theron had just said. What he was asking. With a grim nod, he seized Layla .

“No! Don’t—don’t you leave him!” she screamed, thrashing in his arms. “Kain, let me go! Theron!”

“You either climb or I throw you out the window,” Kain growled, dragging her bodily to the sill.

Another crash shook the door. He was holding it with every ounce of strength the gods had given him but wood cracked.

Layla’s eyes met Theron’s one last time.

He mouthed it again: Go. Tears streaming, he watched as she gripped the makeshift rope and reluctantly began her descent.

Kain a wall not allowing her to attempt to come back in.

Then— RIP. The sheet tore where it caught on the jagged glass and the rope gave way.

“LAYLA!” Theron screamed. He watched in horror as Kain dove, his torso nearly all the way out the window. His body going taut as the glass visibly shredded his torso.

“I got her!” he gritted out, “I got her!”

Theron turned back to look at the giant splinter in the door behind him.

Then with another loud crash, the hinges buckled, and the wood splintered more.

He pressed his full weight into it, blood dripping from his arms, knowing what was coming.

But he didn’t care. They were getting out.

If he had to hold the whole castle back to buy them that chance, so be it.

Layla.

Holding onto Kain with every ounce of strength she had left, Layla dangled in the air, her limbs trembling, vision blurring with tears. Pain was etched deep into Kain’s face as he looked down at her, blood streaming down his arms .

“Just let me go!” she pleaded, her voice raw, cracking. “I’ll be okay. Please, go help him. He needs you!” She knew it was a lie. She wouldn’t be okay. But if it bought Theron a second longer, she would say anything. Anything .

Kain’s gaze flicked upward toward the shattered window, where she knew chaos raged unseen. The sound of boots pounding and steel clashing echoed down to them. The guards had got in. They’d breached the room. Theron was fighting them alone.

Kain’s jaw clenched at something he saw.

Then without a word he yanked her up with a sudden, desperate heave and wrapped his arms around her.

Layla let out a gasp just as Kain launched himself out the ledge and they fell.

The wind screamed in her ears as her scream caught in her throat.

Then—A sickening thud. Not her into the ground, but Kain. She had landed on Kain’s body.

“Kain?” Her voice was a breath, a prayer.

“Kain!” She scrambled off him. Blood pooled fast beneath the back of his head, soaking his pale blond hair into a crimson mat.

“No, no, no—please,” she whispered, kneeling beside him, cupping his face.

“You can’t do this. Not you too. Please!

” His face was deathly pale and slack. His chest unmoving, and for a moment, the world shattered.

“Kain!” she screamed. “Kain, wake up!” She was pleading over him. Tears pooling down her face as she begged all the gods to save him. To bring him back.

After what felt like eternity, she watched in utter relief as his eyelids fluttered. A broken groan escaped his lips. Layla sobbed out a breath, half-laughing, half-choking as she touched his cheeks. “Oh, thank the Gods… ”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve said ‘please,’ Dove,” he rasped, wincing as his bloodied lips twitching into a faint smirk.

With her help, he quickly started to get up, but he staggered, nearly collapsing again.

“Kain, your head—”

“I’ll live,” Kain muttered, though the blood soaking through his hair told a different story. He swayed again, and Layla tightened her grip around his waist, steadying him as best as she could. Then his voice dropped, rough with something more painful than injury.

“We need to go. Theron…” Layla’s breath caught as she turned to look at him. Kain’s eyes flicked upward to the shattered window above, then back to hers, guilt etched across his face like a wound. “They broke through. They… they stabbed him, Layla. I saw it. He… I’m so sorry.”

The words didn’t land all at once. They crashed into her slowly—like waves, each one heavier than the last, until they dragged her under. Stabbed. Theron. Her Theron .