Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 1445 - 44 : Deliberations Going Nowhere

*Rhys*

I shuffled through the parchments sprawled across the grand oak table, each one bearing news of skirmishes, trade disruptions, and diplomatic entreaties. The council chamber was still, save for the occasional cough or groan and low murmurs of advisors deliberating over Axureon’s arrival.

But I was distracted by vivid images of Saoirse that danced at the edge of my thoughts.

"Your Highness," Elder Markus’s voice cut through the fog in my mind, "what is your stance on the border controls?"

"Ah, yes." I found my voice. "We must reinforce them yet ensure they do not provoke unnecessary alarm."

Markus nodded, his pen scratching as he noted my directive. But my words felt hollow, an echo of a leader I was supposed to be, not the man I truly was—a man caught in the worry for Saoirse.

Meetings dragged on like chains bound to my ankles, each step an effort not to stumble into daydreams of Saoirse. Her face would flash before me, a fierceness in her eyes that I longed to be lost in again. I could almost hear her laugh. The thought alone was enough to coax a smile from my lips.

"Prince Rhys?" another advisor ventured, bringing me back again.

"Forgive me," I said, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Please, continue."

The advisor cleared his throat before speaking. "There have been reports of increased unrest among the villagers near the southern borders. It seems they’re growing restless and discontent with the current state of affairs."

A frown creased my forehead. "What is it they seek?"

"They demand better protection against rogue shifters and other threats."

And on it went. It was an effort to keep my mind focused on the tasks at hand. My mind constantly drifted to Saoirse, her presence infiltrating every corner of my thoughts.

When I was finally alone again, I barely remembered any of the day’s meetings.

"Damn," I muttered, resting my forehead in my hands. How could I manage a kingdom when a single woman commanded my every thought?

"Damn it all," I whispered to the empty room. Only silence answered back. The weight of solitude pressed against my chest. It was so heavy I struggled to breathe. I missed her. I missed Saoirse with an ache that clawed at my insides.

I could stand it no longer. With a swift movement, I snatched the jacket from the back of my chair and swept out of my chambers, needing to move. My strides were purposeful as I made my way through the dimly lit corridors, the stones cold beneath my bare feet.

I needed to hear her voice to know she was safe and assure myself that the distance between us hadn’t extinguished the fire we shared.

But I had no way to contact her. Daxton, on the other hand, I could reach.

"Daxton," I texted my trusted Beta. When no answer came, I texted again with more urgency. This time, a call came through.

"Rhys?" Daxton’s voice finally responded, groggy with sleep. "What is it? What’s happened?"

"How is she? Is she alright?" I asked, skipping any pretense of pleasantries. "Saoirse, is she alright?"

"Right," he said. I could almost see the look on his face. "Yes, I have word."

My heart lodged in my throat, waiting, dreading, hoping. "Tell me."

"Saoirse’s safe, Rhys. She’s in the Dragon Valley. She keeps to herself mostly, wrapped up in her own world."

Relief and sorrow twined within me. I was relieved Saoirse was unharmed and sad that she felt so alone. "And her training?"

"Ah," he began, "That fiery woman has been pouring herself into mastering the dragon staff. It seems she’s making quite the impression on the shifters there. They are accepting her more and more, one fearsome display of power at a time."

"Good," I murmured, feeling a sense of pride bloom in my chest. "That’s good."

We sat in silence for a moment, the flicker of the candle casting leaping shadows across the walls. I knew Daxton was worried for me. Normally, he’d be by my side, a welcome distraction if I needed one. But I needed him with Saoirse more at the moment. I needed him to make sure she was safe when she was so far beyond my reach.

"Thank you, Dax," I finally said. "You should get some rest."

"And you, Rhys? Will you sleep tonight?"

I smiled an empty smile in the empty hallway, knowing full well the battle that awaited me in the dark, silent hours. "Perhaps."

As I retreated back to my bed, the cold certainty settled over me.

My night was restless. I tossed and turned, the sheets tangling about my legs. A sigh escaped my lips as I pushed back the covers and stood, my bare feet cold against the stone floor.

My heart eased with the knowledge that Saoirse was safe among Axureon’s people, but I couldn’t stop the worry. Her image flitted through my mind—the curve of her smile, the flash of defiance in her eyes.

I walked over to the tall window. My hands gripped the stone sill while I looked out upon the sleeping kingdom. It was peaceful. In the quiet, I could almost hear Saoirse’s voice, the faint echo of laughter much different from her cries in my nightmares.

"Rhys," she would call out, her voice laced with fear as shadowy figures circled like vultures. I’d reach for her, but she was always just beyond my grasp, swallowed by darkness and terror.

These dreams felt like more than figments of slumber. They were like omens. I couldn’t shake them off, nor did I want to. They fueled my determination to bridge the growing gap between our worlds.

"Peace," I whispered into the night as if the word alone could wield power. "We need peace."

The first light of dawn broke the horizon when I finally surrendered to exhaustion, though sleep brought no solace. Instead, I traversed a landscape of dread, Saoirse’s face etched with anguish as she battled unseen foes.

"Help me, Rhys," she pleaded, her voice cutting through the fog of my subconscious. I fought against the dream’s hold, straining to reach her side. The harder I tried, the further she seemed.

I woke with a start, sweat beading on my brow. I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or a vision. As I rose to dress, the weight of my obligations pressed down upon me, but so too did a newfound vigor. If the dragons and humans were to coexist, it would require more than mere words.

"Today," I vowed to my reflection in the mirror, "we forge a new path. For her and for us all."

The council chamber was filled with tension, angry voices speaking over each other as debate raged on. I stood at the head of the long oaken table, my palms pressed flat against the cool surface, trying to keep an even tone.

"Peace is not weakness," I argued, fixing my gaze on Lord Hargrave, whose face had reddened with fervor. "It’s foresight. The dragons are not our enemies. We share common ground."

"Common ground?" Hargrave barked, slamming his fist onto the table. "They’re beasts! How easily you forget that fires can scorch our lands with little effort on their part. If we allow them to infiltrate our lands, give them trust blindly, where will that leave us when they inevitably decide to attack?"

"There will be no attack, not from these dragons," I countered, feeling the heat of the room pressing in, the murmurs of agreement and dissent mingling. “They want peace, sanctuary, and to offer help.”

"How can you be so sure? This dragon of yours has already warned us of an impending attack. So they claim it won’t come from them, but who is to say? And when those we have harbored side with their own kind? What then, Prince Rhys?" another councilman challenged, his voice slicing through the din.

"Then we face it together," I said, each word a stone laid upon the foundation of the future I envisioned. "United, not divided. These dragons are not the enemy."

"Words," spat Hargrave, his eyes narrow slits of contempt. "Pretty words from a dreamer. But when Axureon’s sanctuary becomes a cradle for war, will your words shield us from dragon fire?"

I met his challenge with silence, letting the weight of it fill the space between us.

"Enough!" My mother’s voice cut through the turmoil. Her presence commanded immediate attention as she rose from her chair. The room fell to a hush, all eyes turning to the matriarch.

"Lord Hargrave," she began, her words measured, "the path of aggression leads only to ruin. My son speaks of unity because he knows its strength."

"Your Grace," Hargrave replied, bowing his head slightly but with a sneer lingering on his lips.

"Let us adjourn," the queen declared. The meeting dissolved into a cacophony of shuffling papers and whispered conspiracies.

Later, in the quiet of the royal chambers, my mother’s concern was palpable. "Rhys," she began, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken fears, "these men may not be swayed by reason or edict. They thirst for blood, not peace."

"Mother, I know the risk. But if we do not strive for peace, what hope do have we?"

Her hand, warm and comforting, found mine. "Be vigilant, my son. War breeds in the hearts of men far before it ever touches the battlefield. Although, I fear they will take action soon, no matter what we say."

"Vigilant and resolute," I assured her, but my thoughts were with Saoirse, her laughter now a distant echo haunting the hollows of my heart.

I rubbed my hands over my face, knowing my mother was right. The anti-dragon sentiments were growing. Despite my efforts, I had a feeling that something was coming sooner rather than later.

Maybe the valley wasn’t the safest place for Saoirse.

I turned from the window, my gaze sweeping over the maps and scrolls that cluttered the oaken table. Each line, each mark, each thread stretched out. I had tried maintaining the diplomacy I had woven. But now, as my mother’s words echoed in my mind, I sensed those threads fraying, one by one.

"Rhys," Axureon’s voice broke through the silence, his normally unshakable demeanor tinged with an urgency I had not heard before.

I faced him, his human guise so perfect yet so foreign to the ancient wisdom behind those eyes. "What is it?" I asked, a knot tightening in my stomach.

"I have lost the mental touch of my people," he said. Though his face remained composed, a storm brewed in the depths of his gaze. "It is as if a veil has descended upon the valley, muting their presence."

A chill crept up my spine. "Could this be an attack?" My voice was steady, but inside, my wolf howled with unease.

"Perhaps," Axureon replied, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced, the gold at his neck glinting dimly in the firelight. "Or a warning. The link has never faltered before."

"Then we must assume the worst." The words tasted like ash on my tongue. "The anti-dragon forces may be making their move."

Axureon stopped, leveling his gaze with mine. "We must prepare for what comes next, Rhys Crimson. Your dreams of peace are noble, but the time may come when you must fight to preserve what little of it remains."

My fists clenched at my sides. "I will do what I must." I spoke not just as a prince but as a shifter, a protector, a man who loved fiercely against the odds.

"Let us hope it does not come to that," Axureon murmured, turning once more to the window.