Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 1481 - 80 : Fighting for Freedom

*Rhys*

The air changed, and the forest felt different as if it sensed the disappearance of magic. My heart leaped. The concealment spell fell away.

With a growl bubbling from my throat, I signaled my warriors—the fiercest of my men—to surge forward. Our feet pounded against the earth in unison, each of us desperate to find Saoirse and bring her home.

"Stay alert!" I shouted as we moved quickly. "We don’t know what awaits!"

As we breached the clearing and the dragon sanctuary loomed into view, its old stones seemed to tell stories from a long time ago. The magic there could be felt with every breath. But there was no time for awe. Saoirse needed us.

"Spread out," I commanded. My warriors followed like a dark wave, surrounding the entrance. I rushed ahead, muscles tense with anticipation.

Inside, flickering torches cast strange shadows on walls covered in runes that hummed with ancient power. And there, at the heart of the chamber, was a sight that stopped my heart and burned my soul. Saoirse, my fierce, outspoken love, stood suspended within a crystalline cocoon, her fiery spirit stilled by an unnatural calm.

"Saoirse..." Her name was a whisper on my lips, my voice betraying the storm of emotions within me.

Eva, wearing dark storm-colored robes, and Sasha, with eyes showing her deep magical knowledge, continued their spells even when we came in. The sound of their chanting surrounded the room, a magical binding that was holding Saoirse captive.

"By the moons, what have they done to her?" One of my warriors stepped forward, his voice a mix of anger and fear.

"Peace," I said, my gaze never leaving the cocoon that imprisoned Saoirse. "We must understand before we act." Despite the commanding tone, my hands itched to tear apart the prison of glowing crystal.

"Rhys, she’s... she’s not moving," another whispered, the reality of Saoirse’s condition cutting through me like a knife. This wasn’t what they promised.

"Silence!" Eva’s command sliced through the tension. Sasha looked at me, silently asking for trust.

"Let them work," I muttered, even though every instinct roared for me to snatch Saoirse away from this sorcery. I took a step closer, needing to be near her and reassure myself that beneath the magic, her heart still beat strong.

"Rhys, we can’t just stand here," one of my warriors protested, but I raised a hand, silencing him.

"Trust," I said as much to myself as to my battalion. We were warriors, but this battle wasn’t one of steel and blood. It was a battle of waiting, of hope against the strange magic holding my future wife.

"Whatever they’re doing, it’s for Saoirse," I added, grounding my resolve in the belief that love would endure.

The air crackled with magic, thick as smoke. I stood rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on the figure within the cocoon, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Rhys," Axureon’s voice cut through the charged silence. I turned to find him making his way toward me. "We have captured the spirit of Shylah. It is weakened but still fights for its hold over Saoirse."

"Captured?" I echoed, my mind struggling to grasp it as soul-deep pain spread through me.

"Yes, but time is fragile," he said with urgency. "Now we can restore what was taken from her—her essence and very being. It must be done carefully, or we risk losing her entirely."

I swallowed hard, nodding despite the fear that tightened around my throat. I turned back to the cocoon, where Eva’s and Sasha’s voices rose and fell in a haunting cadence, their hands weaving intricate patterns in the air.

"Be swift," I whispered, not knowing if it was a plea to the witches or a command to the universe itself.

"Patience, Rhys," Sasha murmured without breaking her focus. "We’re binding her spirit back to her body, sealing away the intruder that sought to claim her."

"Is it working?" The question tore from me, raw and desperate.

Eva glanced at me, her eyes solemn. "It’s a delicate process. We’re reinforcing her rightful hold, but it must not be rushed. Her life hangs in balance."

"Balance," I muttered, clenching my fists until my nails bit into my palms. The word seemed like a joke when all I could see was how close Saoirse was to danger.

"Trust us, Rhys." Sasha’s voice was a balm, soothing yet firm. "We know the dance of spirits and flesh."

I nodded again, forcing myself to stand watch while they worked to save the woman who held my heart. Each chant and gesture seemed to draw out for an eternity, punctuated by the shimmering glow that pulsed around Saoirse’s form.

"Come back to me," I whispered, my voice blending with the rhythm of the spellwork.

"Come back to me," I repeated, over and over, until the words were more than a plea. They were a vow.

Eva and Sasha cried out in triumph. My heart squeezed in my chest. Had they done it? Was my Saoirse once again in control?

“We must work quickly,” Eva said. “We don’t know if Saoirse’s control will hold. We need to separate the magic from the staff".”

Sweat beaded on Sasha’s forehead, her hands hovering in the air around the crystal cocoon. It thrummed with a wild magic. Eva worked in tandem, her chants low and rhythmic as she tried to coax the power into a polished orb of obsidian meant to serve as the new vessel.

"Almost," Eva breathed, her voice tinged with exhaustion, "it’s responding."

"Come on," Sasha urged. Her tone was laced with equal parts determination and weariness. "Shift, curse you."

The energy around the staff swirled. I could see the strain etched into their faces, their shoulders tense with the effort. The air itself felt charged.

"Please," I found myself whispering, not even sure to whom my plea was directed—to the staff, the fates, or perhaps to Saoirse herself, urging her to fight back against the shackles that bound her.

But the magic clung to the dragon staff, too deep-rooted to untangle. Each attempt seemed only to make it cling tighter, more defiant. The obsidian orb remained empty. Saoirse remained bound.

"Enough," Sasha finally gasped, her hand falling away as she slumped, defeated. "It’s no use."

Eva ceased her chanting, her expression grave. "The staff won’t let go. It’s.... it’s never been just an object. The magic is too far bound to the staff to separate. And the connection Saoirse has to it... it’s part of her now."

"Part of her?" My voice cracked, fear clawing at my throat.

"Severing their connection," Sasha said, each word heavy with regret, "is the only way to fully free her. But it means she’ll lose the abilities she’s only just begun to explore."

"No..." My heart ached at the thought. Saoirse had always been fierce and powerful in her own right, without the need for magic to define her. But to have tasted such strength, only to have it ripped away... It would leave her vulnerable when things were so unsettled in the realm.

I stood rigid. "No," I growled, the word tearing from my very soul. "We can’t just strip her of her powers. There must be another way."

Eva’s gaze settled on me, solemn. "Rhys, it’s the only path left to us."

"Then we haven’t looked hard enough!" My fist clenched at my side, every muscle taut with the need to protect and preserve the Saoirse I knew.

It was then a faint shimmer pulsed within the crystalline cocoon, drawing all eyes. A whisper, soft yet somehow resolute, echoed not through the air but within our minds. "Rhys..."

"Saoirse?" My voice broke.

"Let it go," she implored. Her spirit’s touch was as gentle as the brush of a petal. "Let the magic go. Shylah’s shadow... clings to it. To set me free, you must release it all."

"But without the magic..." I couldn’t finish. The image of her, diminished, anything less than the blazing force of nature she’d become...

"Magic isn’t what makes me who I am," she countered. "I wish to stand on my own, Rhys, not as a vessel for power or a pawn in an ancient struggle but as myself—Saoirse, complete and unbound."

Her conviction wound around my heart, squeezing tight until I could no longer deny her this choice. "If that’s your will," I murmured.

"It is," she affirmed.

"Then... I’m with you." The words felt like surrender but carried the promise of a new beginning. I nodded to Eva and Sasha, submitting to the inevitable.

"Very well," Eva said, her incantation already rising anew. "Let’s begin."

I stood holding my breath, my eyes never leaving Saoirse. I would never leave her again. The dragon staff pulsed with light as Eva and Sasha began again. Chanted incantations filled the air with power. Axureon stood behind them, guiding their every motion with a steady hand and an unwavering gaze.

"Focus on the runes," Axureon instructed, his voice a deep rumble. "They are the key to breaking Shylah’s hold."

The symbols around Saoirse’s crystal cocoon sparkled with a ghostly light. They were strangely beautiful as they flickered in reaction to the magic being done. The mysterious symbols lit up one by one, becoming brighter with each moment.

"Almost there," Sasha breathed, her voice strained. "Just a little more..."

Eva’s chants grew louder and more insistent. The fluorescent glow of the dragon staff began to dim, sputtering like a dying flame. It resisted and fought. But eventually, Eva and Sasha won out. My heart hammered against my ribs, thoughts of Saoirse’s safety eclipsing all else.

"Be ready, Rhys," Axureon warned without turning his head. "The moment is upon us."

I nodded, but I doubted he saw it. My hands were ready to act, to catch and reclaim what was most precious to me. With a shattering sound, the glow of the staff extinguished completely.

"Shylah’s spirit... it withdraws!" Eva exclaimed, relief mingling with triumph in her tone.

"Quickly now, dissolve the prism," Axureon commanded, urgency lacing his words.

With a sweeping gesture from Eva, the cocoon that held Saoirse captive shimmered once before dissolving into countless sparkling particles, hanging in the air like celestial snowflakes. As the last of her prison vanished, Saoirse’s body slumped forward, and I surged ahead to catch her.

"Saoirse," I whispered, cradling her limp form against my chest, her weight nothing compared to the fear that had gripped me.

Her eyelids fluttered. Ever so slowly, those beautiful eyes I had dreamed of during long, haunted nights opened to meet mine. Recognition dawned within their depths, clear and vibrant and free from the shadows that had gripped her.

"Rhys," she murmured. Her voice was no more than a whisper, but it filled the cavernous space.

"Love, I’m here," I replied. My voice choked with emotion, holding her closer as if through sheer will I could shield her from the world’s harm. "I’ve got you."

"Free..." Her word was half-sigh and half-celebration, and it engraved itself upon my soul.

"Free," I promised.