The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,59

four into the holster across her chest, four on the back of her shoulders, one at each wrist strap, and two into each thigh band. Her hunting leathers had been specially designed to hold daggers, and Lyana had no problem letting everyone in the room guess her skill level while she prepared, taking her time, feeling the weight of each blade, not paying attention as the other princesses took their turns.

“Stop showing off,” Luka murmured, but his tone was playful.

Lyana glanced at him as she snapped the last buckle into place. “Now, why would I do that?”

“Because the Princess of the House of Prey just hit every target but one,” he whispered, nodding toward the center ring, where Thea had finished a steep landing. She snapped her eagle wings closed, a broad smile visible under her mask, and walked proudly back to her family.

Lyana frowned and shrugged, trying to play it cool. “There’s winning, Luka. And then there’s winning.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see,” she said vaguely, stepping forward as the focus of the room subtly shifted toward her—a thousand pairs of eyes, a thousand silent questions, a thousand people watching, but all she saw was one.

One man with his gaze on the ground.

One prince pointedly studying his toes.

One raven who would ignore her no longer.

Because there was winning a trial, and winning a heart.

Lyana knew exactly which victory she was after as she pumped her wings, rising from the family dais and floating casually to the center of the room, pulse not thunderous as she’d expected but eerily calm. Her feet softly found stone. She swallowed, wrapping her fingers around the first dagger she intended to throw, the one at the far-left side of her waist, and pulling it free. Then she waited. Blinking once. Twice. Bending her knees. Using her thumb to twirl the hilt, making sure the muscles in her hand didn’t grow stiff.

A bell chimed.

Lyana launched into the air at the same moment the first wooden disc soared free, forgetting the room, forgetting the princes, forgetting everything but instinct. She released her dagger, not bothering to watch, smiling as a thunk made its way to her ear. But by then, the second disc had been thrown, the slight whistle hinting at its location over her shoulder. She dove toward the ground, flipping in midair and releasing her dagger as she rolled, before swerving to the opposite side where a third target raced by, then a fourth. Lyana reached with both hands, grabbing the daggers behind her shoulders and throwing at the same time.

Thunk.

Thunk.

She spared a glance at the raven prince, whose attention was still on the ground, and growled beneath her breath. But there was no time to be annoyed as the fifth, then sixth, then seventh targets danced through the air. She twirled, using her wings to propel her in a wide arc as she hit all three. A few of the doves in the crowd cheered. Lyana held her focus, finding an eighth and a ninth target, then hovered in midair as the arena seemed to pause.

All four slingshots were released at once, two targets shooting toward the center of the ring and two in opposite directions. Lyana hit the disc closest to her first, before racing through the center of the arena, turning for one, then the other. The final disc hit its peak and began dropping toward the floor, faster and faster. Her arm strength alone wouldn’t be enough to reach it, so she snapped her wings, dropped to the floor, and landed in a roll before jumping to her feet, using the momentum and the muscles in her legs for the extra push needed to reach the target.

Thunk.

Lyana let out a breath and again flicked her gaze around the room. Luka watched her with a proud grin on his lips. The hummingbird prince had a hungry sort of expression in his eyes. The raven was still fascinated by his shoes.

A crack drew her attention as another disc was released. Then two more.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Lyana patted her clothes. Two daggers at her chest. One at her wrist. One more at her thigh. Four targets left, but she only planned to hit three.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Lyana tugged the final two blades free from her chest, weighing them in her hands, waiting in the center of the arena as the final two slingshots were quietly loaded. She breathed, in and out, in and out, and the room seemed to breathe with her, inhaling and exhaling at