Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 1446 - 45 : A Prisoner Once More

*Saoirse*

The world roared its fury as stone and sky shuddered under the wrath of the militia’s bombardment. Every thunderous impact threatened to tear the hidden sanctuary apart. I stood firm, a solitary sentinel amidst the chaos. I would not let them destroy these people, destroy me.

My hands clasped my staff tightly, its ancient wood pulsing with life and power. Power surged through me, a torrent of mystic energy I commanded into a shimmering dome above the fleeing dragon families.

"Fly! Fly fast!" My voice was a rallying cry that sliced through the cacophony. The dragons, some in their human form, some as magnificent beasts with scales that shimmered like jewels, hesitated no more. They ran. They unfurled their vast wings and soared toward the safety I so desperately fought to provide.

The ground shook with relentless violence, testing the limits of my strength. I could feel the strain in every fiber of my being, each cell crying out in protest. When I looked upon the younglings nestling close to their mothers’ protective frames, their eyes wide with fear, I knew I couldn’t falter—not now, not while hope still took flight on leathern wings.

I shifted my stance, feet planted firmly on the trembling earth. My staff blazed brighter than the heart of a star, casting an ethereal glow over the once serene valley now scarred by conflict.

I told myself to focus. This was for them and all that they represented. It was for love and life in a world that seemed bent on denying both. I could not back down.

"Stay strong," I whispered to myself. The words were lost to the wind and war. My barriers held, radiant and resolute, just like the determined blaze within me. With each explosion that rocked the mountainside, I held.

"Keep moving!" I urged again, my voice steadier this time. I wouldn’t let them see my doubt and fear. They needed the image of steadfast courage I projected with gritted teeth and blazing eyes.

As the last of the dragons beyond my reach slipped away from danger and under my dome of protection, I allowed myself a single moment of relief. Their escape was my victory, however fleeting it might have been.

I wiped the sweat from my brow with a forearm blackened by ash and soot, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The air was thick with the scent of char and magic. It clung to my skin and refused to let go.

My staff’s glow dimmed with each moment I held the barriers firm, my arms trembling under the strain. The other mages had fallen early, their cries still echoing in my memory, leaving me alone to weave a tapestry of protection.

"Almost clear," I heard my voice mutter, the words barely audible above the drumming heartbeats in my ears. "Just a little longer."

My thoughts fled to the tunnels, their rocky mouths gaping like wounds in the earth, hastily carved by desperate hands on Axureon’s warning—a warning that now seemed an age ago. Those hidden passageways were the dragons’ last hope. I poured every ounce of my being into securing their passage.

The ground shuddered violently beneath my feet. I braced for impact, my eyes fixed on the horizon. The second barrage came quickly and without mercy. Fire and metal rained down upon us. The sanctuary was no longer a haven but a target marked for destruction.

My shields, once brilliant with arcane energy, flickered like dying stars. The cracks in my magical armor grew with each explosive cry of artillery.

"Please," I whispered, a plea to the staff, the magic, and anyone willing to listen. But my words were snatched away by the roar of a blast too close and fierce. It struck against my failing defenses.

Pain seared through me as the world careened out of control. My cry was lost in the tumult. I collided with the unforgiving stone wall, my staff clattering from my grasp. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision. My body was battered, and my magic was spent.

"Get up," I commanded myself, though my limbs refused to obey. "You can’t fall now."

Even as the determination surged within me, it was no use. I had nothing left to give.

Grit and blood mingled in my mouth as I tried and failed to drag my aching body across the rubble-strewn ground. I didn’t make it far before shadows loomed over me. Armored soldiers encircled me with hatred in their eyes.

"End of the line, witch," one of them sneered, his boot planting firmly against my back, pinning me down.

"Please," I gasped, the word barely a whisper, but it was swallowed by the laughter of my captors. Shackles, cold and unyielding, clamped around my wrists.

"Take her to the transport!" ordered a voice that cut through the din of war still raging beyond us. "Move out!"

I was hauled to my feet and dragged alongside other figures—shifters with haunted eyes reflecting a terror I knew mirrored my own. We stumbled together into the belly of a metal beast awaiting its human cargo. The doors slammed shut with a resounding clang.

As the transport lurched into motion, rattling over the uneven terrain, the murmurs of my fellow prisoners rose.

"General Blight’s orders," a shifter beside me whispered, his voice carrying the weight of a resigned soul, "torture and experiments. They want to harness our gifts for war."

The shifter hadn’t been wrong. We were transported to a lab hidden deep underground. There was no kindness there, only hatred and scientific interest.

Chains bit into my wrists as I hung suspended between two hulking figures. They snarled and snapped, relying on their primal instincts. I could feel their pain and confusion. This place was filled with nightmares.

"Please," I begged, my voice hoarse from screaming, "no more."

The scientists paid no heed to my pleas. Their hands were steady and methodical as they affixed cold metal sensors to my temples, drawing out the raw essence of my magic. It flowed from me like a river as they siphoned off my power.

"Stabilize the flow," one white-coated figure instructed, devoid of emotion. "We need her strong enough to endure but weak enough to control."

My head lolled forward, a haze of exhaustion clouding my vision. I could still see the shaft of wood and crystal lying just beyond my chained reach. My staff, which was always there, was just out of reach.

With each cycle of draining, they paused to record their findings, scribbling notes with detached fascination. In those precious moments of reprieve, I strained toward my staff, fingers brushing the cold stone floor, achingly close to the warmth that promised freedom.

"Interesting," murmured a scientist, peering over his spectacles at the readouts. "Her energy levels spike in proximity to the artifact. Note that."

"Indeed," another agreed, a smirk playing upon his lips. "Perhaps the bond between shifter and staff is stronger than we anticipated."

I let out a ragged breath, the effort leaving me spent.

"Rest now," the first scientist said, a false note of kindness in his voice. "Tomorrow, we push further. We have much to learn from you."

I closed my eyes, drew in a shallow breath, and focused on the lingering heat that reached out to me from my beloved staff. I would try again the next day. I would not be so easily broken.

The night shrouded the laboratory in silence. I lay on the cold stone floor, alone. My staff was with the scientists. The absence of my staff left a void within me, a hollow space where power and comfort once resided.

In the darkness, my mind wandered, seeking solace in memories. Rhys’ laughter echoed in my ears. I remembered the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the warmth of his smile. Those tender moments we shared, secret and sacred, now seemed like fragments of another life.

"Rhys," I whispered into the blackness, my voice fragile. If only he knew I was still here, still fighting. He had always been fiercely protective. His love was a force that rivaled the ancient magics we both revered.

I could almost feel the brush of his fingers through my hair and his kiss on my temple. "Saoirse," he would say, his voice a low rumble, "I’d fight a thousand wars for you." I believed him.

As the chill of the floor seeped into my bones, I curled into myself, arms wrapped tight around my knees. It wasn’t just the cold that bit at my flesh. It was the gnawing fear of never feeling his embrace again. But despair was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

I held on to thoughts of Rhys, my soulmate. For Rhys, I would endure this nightmare. For Rhys, I would escape these chains and return to his side. He wouldn’t rest until the world was set right if he knew I lived.

A single tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek before disappearing into the shadows. This was not the end. It couldn’t be. Somewhere beyond these oppressive walls, Rhys Crimson would move heaven and earth to find me. With that belief nestled close to my heart, I focused inward, searching for that sliver of power that had sparked during those endless hours of testing.

They thought they could break me, drain me of my magic, and leave me hollow. But pain and fear had unearthed something new—a hidden well of energy that even the scientists, with their cold instruments and colder eyes, couldn’t reach.

It felt like Rhys. I dug deep until I brushed against the warmth of the power hiding within me, and I used it to try and reach him.

"Rhys," I whispered in my mind, the name itself a plea, a prayer cast into the void. "Can you hear me?" There was no sound in this mental calling, no voice to echo. Yet it felt as if it reverberated, pulsing out beyond the mountain that entombed me.

I didn’t know if it was hope or reality, so I kept pushing.

I pictured his face, his smile, his voice, his touch. With every fiber of my being, I stretched my consciousness toward him, toward the bond we shared. It was tenuous, this thread of hope, but it was all I had left.

"Find me," I urged silently, letting the energy flow. "I’m still here, Rhys. Still fighting."

The effort drained me, each mental shout chipping away at the barriers. I imagined him, holding onto the hope he would hear me and I would see him again. I wondered if he would recognize my call and understand the urgency.

"Please," I implored into the darkness. "You have to hear me."

And then, I waited for a sign, an acknowledgment, for any indication that across the vast distances, my soulmate might somehow hear.