Page 26 of Love of the Bladed Dove
“Well, come on then… or do you want to keep torturing that poor bunny?” He arched a brow and gestured to the butchered remains in front of her. Layla turned instinctively to Illyada, who gave a small nod of approval. Without another word, Layla tossed her blade on the table and rounded it quickly, stopping just short of Kain’s side. A nervous but excited energy starting to radiate through her now.She was going to get to train.
“Come on, Little Dove,” he said with a grin as he draped an arm over her shoulders. Layla immediately ducked out of his grasp and sent him a glare sharp enough to draw blood. He chuckled, unfazed. “This is going to be fun.”
As they neared the Circle, several warriors were already at work, swords clanging against one another, the air thick with heat and grit. Layla’s shoulders relaxed slightly when she noticed Theron was nowhere in sight.Good.She wasn’t ready to see him. Not after how he was acting.
“Let’s see how handy you are with asword,” Kain said, stretching out the word with an eyebrow wiggle that made her roll her eyes.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Thank you,” he said cheerfully and tossed her a blade.
Layla caught it, though the weight threw her off balance for a second. “Uh, I don’t think I’m supposed to have one of these.” She stated as she nervously looked around at the other warriors. Expecting someone to come stomping over and take it from her.
“No sword, no more Little Dove.” He took a fighting stance, ignoring her hesitation. Clearly unconcerned that he just handed their captive a true weapon.
“And stop calling me that,” she grumbled, gripping the sword and squaring her stance. The name made her feel small, fragile—neither of which she had the luxury of being anymore.
Kain lunged, fast and without warning. Layla dodged just in time, the steel singing as it missed her by inches. She stumbled, her pulse spiking. He came at her again, fast and relentless. He didn’t ease up. Not even a little. On the third strike, she tripped and hit the dirt hard, the wind knocked from her lungs.
“I’m not Theron,” Kain said, towering over her. “I’m not going to baby you. If this is all you’ve got, you’re going to be a liability tomorrow.” Layla pushed to her feet and lunged at him, anger burning away the last of her hesitation. She went on the offensive, striking again and again, but he dodged each blow with infuriating ease. Her arms ached. Sweat soaked her back. But she didn’t stop.
“You’re trying to wound me,” Kain said, more serious now. “But you’re not trying to kill me.” Layla froze.
“You have to kill, Dove. If you hesitate in battle, you die. Or worse—your family does. Do you understand that?” His tone wasn’t mocking now. It was something else. Something earnest. She looked into his eyes and nodded once. “Good,” he said. “Then stop wasting time. Kill me.”
They trained for hours. He barked corrections, gave her advice, and pushed her harder than anyone ever had. By the time she nearly dropped the sword from her sweat-slick hands, he raised a hand and called for a pause. He grabbed two water pouches from nearby, tossing her one. She downed it gratefully, her chest rising and falling like a battle drum. It was the first time in days she felt truly strong.
“Sword,” he said, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, she handed it over.
“Oh… are we done already?” She asked, surprised to hear the faint disappointment in her own voice. He didn’t answer right away. He turned from her, sliding off his leathers and sweat drenched tunic The muscles in his back rippled with the motion, and despite herself, her eyes traced the beads of sweat rolling down the ridges of his torso. Her cheeks flushed hot, and she quickly looked away. But when she glanced back, he was already looking at her. That smirk again ever present.Damn it. She braced herself for the taunt, but he only shook his head and laughed.
“If you want to be done, fine,” he said. “But I figured we could see how skilled you were with your hands.”
Layla groaned at the innuendo. “You’re unbearable.” But she dropped into a stance anyway as he laughed.
They went at it again, bare-handed this time. She didn’t land a single blow. He was faster, stronger, more experienced. When he finally waved her off, she was panting and sore.
“Don’t underestimate your abilities or overestimate your strength. That’s how you get killed,” Kain said, the usual smugness softened by sincerity. “You’re too weak to wield a sword and don’t have the skills yet to properly win in hand to hand….But a knife? That you can wield. I’ve seen it.” Before she could respond, he handed her a dagger.
She took a step forward, reaching for the offered dagger, eyes fixed on his. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she grabbed a second dagger from his thigh and pressed it to his abdomen, just hard enough to nick the skin. His eyes widened, then narrowed with what could only be described as pride as a real smile spread across his face. A quiet moment passed between them. The kind that hummed with respect and something else—something unspoken.
“What the fuck is this?!”
Layla jumped. Theron’s voice tore through the air like thunder. She turned and saw him stalking toward them, rage carved into every line of his face. Only then did she realize just how close she was to Kain—still holding the blades, his sweat still glistening between them. She took a large step back. Kain remained unfazed, still looking down at her, his familiar smirk back in full force.
“Thank you, Kain,” Layla said softly. “I mean it.” He winked, then bent to grab his leathers, tunic, and sword before starting to walk away.
Kain!” she called out, holding up the daggers. “Here—”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Keep them, Dove. You’ll need ‘em.” And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing there between fury and fire. Between two very different men.
Theron.
Theron hadn’t seen Layla all morning, and that absence clawed at him more than he cared to admit. The air was thick with the storm rolling in, and a strange pressure had been building in his chest since dawn. He’d spent the better part of the morning sharpening blades and checking supplies, anything to distract himself from the fact that he was still horrified with himself for pushing her too far last night.
But when he finally spotted her in the Circle, locked in heated sparring with Kain, his blood ignited.
He watched as she lunged toward his brother, a fierce determination in her stance that Theron hadn't seen before. She was drenched in sweat, hair clinging to her temples, and yet she moved with silent precision, swift and striking. Theron’s eyes narrowed.What the hell is Kain thinking? She’s not supposed to be out here.
