The Plan I’ll Break

Kain Rivel stood in his shack, glaring at the dual axes propped against the wall. Yesterday's madness—bandits bowing, Leon's threats, Mya's kiss on his forehead—burned in his mind. Her touch had sparked something—heat, confusion, a pull he hated admitting—but he wasn't her puppet. In The Blade of Eternity, Mya ruled with Leon, not some coughing extra. Kain wasn't folding to her yandere whims or Leon's grudge. He'd fight back, axes or not.

"She's not owning me," he growled, kicking an axe. It clattered, and he coughed, steadying himself. "I'm done being her toy." Her words—"Tomorrow, we plan. Together"—lit a fire. He'd plan, alright—his way out.

A knock hit the door. "Kain!" Mya's voice, smooth and commanding. "Come out."

"Make me!" he snapped, grabbing the harness. The axes clanked as he buckled it on—not for her, but to shove them in her face. The door swung open, and she stepped in, silver hair loose, violet eyes glinting.

"You're up," she said, smiling sharp. "Good. We—"

"No 'we'!" he cut in, jabbing a finger at her. "You don't run me!" A cough flared, but he straightened, glaring through it.

Her smile softened, and she stepped closer, hand lifting to his face. "You're flushed. Angry?"

"Damn right!" he rasped, swatting her hand away. The axes swung, nearly tripping him, but he caught himself. "You kissed me! You sicced bandits on me! Leon wants my head—and I'm not your pet!"

She tilted her head, unfazed. "Not a pet. A partner." She reached again, brushing his neck. "I protect you, Kain Rivel. Because I—"

"Stop!" he barked, shoving her back—not hard, but firm. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, a flicker of delight crossing them. "You don't get to claim me! I'm not yours!"

"You are," she said, her voice low, stepping into his space. "You feel it. I see it." Her fingers grazed his chest, and his pulse jumped—anger, sure, but something else too.

"I feel trapped!" he shot back, grabbing an axe. It wobbled, but he held it up. "You're crazy, Mya. I'm not playing your game!"

She laughed—soft, dangerous—and caught his wrist, steadying the axe. "My game's yours now. Outside—they're waiting."

Kain yanked free, storming past her. "Fine! But I'm not your pawn!" The square buzzed—villagers, bandits, the bard—all around a table with maps. The bandit leader grinned, saluting.

"Boss!" he called. "Ready to lead?"

"Lead myself!" Kain snapped, slamming the axe onto the table. It stuck, wobbling, and he coughed, glaring. "I'm not your king!"

"You are," Mya said, sliding beside him. Her hand brushed his, possessive, but he jerked away.

"No!" he growled, facing her. "You don't decide that!"

She spread the map, calm as steel. "A caravan. Leon's supplies. We hit it. Show him you're not weak."

Kain laughed—harsh, bitter. "Weak? I am! Look!" He swung the second axe at a crate, the blade grazing it before flying free, thunking into the dirt. He didn't flinch, staring her down. "I'm not raiding anyone!"

The bandits cheered. "Fearless!" the leader roared.

"Fearful!" Kain corrected, coughing. "You're all nuts!"

Mya's smile sharpened. "Fearful or not, you draw them. Lead—or I will."

"Then you lead!" he spat, unbuckling the harness. The axes thudded down. "I'm done with this!"

Her hand shot out, grabbing his arm—not gentle now, but tight. "You're not," she said, her voice dropping. "I need you, Kain. We're stronger together."

"Stronger?" He wrenched free, stepping back. "You're strong. I'm a wreck. Find someone else!"

"No one else," she said, closing the gap. Her eyes softened, a rare crack in her steel. "You're mine. I love you."

Kain froze, her words a punch. "Love?" he rasped, heat flaring in his chest. "That's not love—it's chains!"

"It's both," she whispered, her hand cupping his face. She leaned in, lips brushing his—not soft, but fierce. Kain stiffened, then shoved her back, wiping his mouth.

"Don't!" he snarled, but his voice shook—anger, yes, but a flicker of want betrayed him. "I'm not falling for this!"

"You already are," she said, smiling triumphant. "Tomorrow, we move. You'll see."

A horn blared—distant, sharp. The crowd tensed. "Leon's scouts," Tobin muttered. No gold yet, but close.

Kain glared at Mya. "You're dragging me to hell!"

"To victory," she corrected, her hand hovering near his. "For us."

"Us?" he scoffed, grabbing an axe. "There's no us unless I say so!" He swung it at the table, the blade biting deep. He coughed, swaying, but stood tall. "I'll fight—my way. Not yours."

Her eyes gleamed—pride, hunger. "Good," she said. "Lead them your way. I'll follow."

"Follow?" he rasped, incredulous. The bandits saluted, ready. "Fine! But I'm not raiding Leon—I'm surviving him!"

"Surviving's enough," she said, stepping back. "For now." She turned to the crowd. "Tomorrow, we act. Kain decides."

The villagers cheered, the bandits nodded. Kain slumped, the axe slipping. "She's still nuts," he thought, her kiss lingering. "But I'm not her dog."

She glanced back, her smile fierce—and loving. "Rest," she called. "You're mine, Kain. Always."

He coughed, glaring. "We'll see," he muttered, defiance burning. Leon loomed, Mya pressed, but Kain wouldn't bend—not yet.