Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1480 - 79 : The Ritual

*Axureon*

I hovered over the parchment. Each name etched in ink was another who had vowed to join our cause—Saoirse’s cause. In my mind, I saw flashes of fire and smoke, imagining their greatness even as I mourned the loss of my mate. I lived centuries without her and only had moments with her again. This Shylah was not the fierce, noble dragon warrior I had loved.

"Are they enough?" Saphira’s voice was a whisper, her voice cutting through the silence.

"Enough to tip the scales," I replied, folding the parchment with care. "Their fire will burn away the shadows Shylah has cast upon this realm. I wish things could be different, but Saoirse and her child deserve life."

"Good." Saphira’s eyes met mine. They were strong with a hint of concern. It matched the turmoil in my heart.

A sigh escaped me, heavy with memories. I had felt her presence again, my mate, my love. She was so strong and fierce but also so entwined within Saoirse’s mortal form. I would never love another, but I could not allow this to continue.

"Your heart aches," Saphira noted, reaching for my hand but stopping, unsure.

"Her return is not the reunion I wanted," I admitted, feeling the weight of many years. "But Saoirse should not be a vessel for such pain."

"Then we end this," she said with resolve. "For Saoirse’s sake... and yours."

I nodded slowly, understanding the seriousness of what was coming. Breaking the ties between Saoirse and my past love was not simple. It was separating souls, delicate and dangerous.

"Her spirit must find peace," I murmured, more to myself than Saphira. "And we must grant Saoirse her freedom. Her child deserves a future."

"Indeed." Saphira rested her hand atop the list, a silent pledge to our united purpose. "We stand with you, Axureon. Through flame, storm, or shadow, we stand."

The plan was set, and time was running out. The room hummed with preparation, the air thick with anticipation. I watched as Sasha paced, her steps measured and sure, mirroring the resolve etched upon her youthful face. She was not merely a vessel of our plan. She was its keystone.

"Will it work?" Her voice cut through the silence, a blade seeking certainty.

"It must," I replied, my eyes never leaving the complex ritual circle spread across the stone floor. "Eva’s prowess is supposed to be unmatched. When Shylah calls you forth, she will be met not with submission but defiance. She expects nothing."

Sasha nodded. Alternate Sasha would arrive with Rhys.

"Remember," Eva’s clear voice reached us as she approached, her hands moving through the air with magical threads, "the moment Shylah believes she has won, we strike. My spell will siphon the strength from the staff, leaving her vulnerable."

"Vulnerable enough for Saoirse to break free," Sasha affirmed, her eyes sparking with determination.

"Exactly," Eva said, her gaze locking onto mine. In her depth, I saw the storms she had weathered, the might of her craft waiting to be released. She was powerful. Hopefully, she was powerful enough. "Are we all prepared?"

A collective breath was drawn, the weight of what was to come pressing down upon us.

"Ready," I confirmed, my voice steady as the ancient stones that surrounded us.

"Let us begin," Eva declared.

"May the stars guide us," I whispered, a prayer to the heavens above for success, Saoirse’s liberation, and an end to the torment.

"May the stars guide us," Saphira echoed.

***

Shadows danced around us as the hour neared. I could feel the cold seeping into the stone of the chamber where it would all happen. I stood silent, watching and waiting for our carefully laid plan to begin. It was not long before the echo of footsteps signaled her arrival.

"Finally," Shylah said in a cold voice, filled with triumph and contempt. She appeared from the darkness. Sasha was beside her, a puppet led to the final act.

"Let us end this charade," Shylah declared, her eyes gleaming with a cruel light. Sasha’s face, a mask of resignation, showed the heavy weight of what was to come.

"Time to be free, Saoirse," I murmured under my breath, a wish cast into the void.

"Begin," Shylah commanded.

But Eva, as quick as the first gust of a storm, stepped forward. Her hands moved through the air, fingers drawing ancient symbols of power. "Not today, Shylah," she said.

A crystal lattice sprang from the ground, spiraling upward with a grace and elegance I had not expected. It encased Shylah in a shimmering cocoon, and her movements stilled. The look of determination and quiet triumph she had worn morphed into one of surprise and anger.

"Impossible!" Shylah’s muffled cry echoed inside the crystalline prison as she fought against her unexpected restraints.

"Your time has passed," I said to my once-beloved mate, now trapped and frozen. My heart felt heavy, but I knew this had been necessary.

"Rest now, warrior," Eva whispered. Her voice was strong and sure, laced with power. "Let the mortal breathe."

The air itself seemed to pause. Time stopped, if only for a heartbeat. We watched. We watched, and we waited.

The room quivered. The air grew thicker and then thinner as seals and wards shattered. I felt it then—the veil of protection and concealment we had built around this sanctuary unraveling like old cloth. They were coming.

From outside, the noise of an approaching army reached us, a mix of anger and clashing weapons. They surged forward, seeking revenge for their captured leader.

"Shylah’s followers," I murmured, my voice steady despite the unease inside me. "Stand ready!" I called out to those who had pledged their loyalty to our cause. Our allies formed a protective line in front of the chamber doors.

"Protect the witch. She is key," I instructed, my eyes never straying from the crystalline statue that held Shylah. Eva’s spell had done its work, but our task was far from over.

"None shall pass," proclaimed one of my brethren, a dragon whose human form bore the scars of countless battles.

"Shylah’s reign ends here," another vowed, her voice ringing with authority.

They clashed with the attackers, fire meeting fire, claw meeting scales. The sounds of metal clashing and magical energies filled the room.

I turned my attention back to the captive spirit before me, feeling the heaviness and the heartache of what had to be done.

"Returning Saoirse is the only way," I whispered to the air as though the words themselves could ease the turmoil in my soul. "It is the path of light and justice."

"Agreed," Eva replied, her gaze fixed on the woman whose body housed two conflicting spirits. "We restore her to herself and the life she was meant to lead."

With the sounds of battle as our backdrop, we prepared for the ritual that would decide more than one life and fate.

Shylah’s spirit struggled in her prison, her anger strong against the magic holding her. I watched, my heart a mix of sadness and determination.

"Shylah," I said softly, my voice steady despite the chaos inside and around us. She stilled, her presence within the crystal focusing on me. "We were fire and flight once. But this... is not the way." Her essence flickered, a silent snarl of defiance.

"I vow to you, upon the winds of our ancestors, I will find a new vessel—one that yearns for your strength. But Saoirse’s life is not ours to claim. Her child is not yours to control."

The promise hung heavy between us, a vow that cut deeper than any blade. For a moment, the chamber was still, save for the distant echoes of the battle beyond.

"Is it time?" Sasha asked, her voice breaking the reverie.

I nodded, turning toward the pregnant woman who lay caught in the crossfire of desires not her own. "Eva, we begin."

The witch stepped forward, her hands glowing with potent energy. Together, we encircled Saoirse, our trio completing an ancient triangle of power. Words of old spilled from my lips, a chant that predated the very stones beneath our feet. The language of dragons wound its way around us, a tapestry of sound and intent.

"Arhysium prav korinthos," I intoned, the incantation filling the chamber.

"Arhysium prav korinthos," Sasha echoed, her voice harmonizing with mine.

"Arhysium prav korinthos," Eva completed, her magic pulsing in sync with the words.

The air thickened, bending reality to the will of the spell. Slowly, ever so slowly, a glow began to form around Saoirse’s body. It was soft at first and then grew brighter.

"Press on," Eva urged, her eyes ablaze with focused power. "We are the conduit. We guide the light."

"Guide the light," I murmured, my spirit reaching out to coax Saoirse’s essence back to the front. "Return to us, fierce heart."

The glow intensified, shining bright and blinding. Although the path was risky, we walked it together—for Saoirse, the child she bore, and the future that awaited them both. I could only hope they would both come out the other side unharmed.

The spell tugged at Saoirse’s very essence, making her flicker like a flame. I watched anxiously, the air around us crackling with arcane energy.

"Steady," Sasha whispered, her voice a guiding thread in the magical storm. "We must not falter."

"Steady," I repeated to myself, gripping tighter to the thread of Saoirse’s spirit.

The light within her swelled. For an instant, I feared it would consume her. Such power had its price, and the cost overwhelmed my thoughts. Her body convulsed slightly, but we couldn’t stop.

"Fight, Saoirse. We are here. Fight for your return," I urged, even though I knew she could not hear me. Every part of me wished for her victory.

"Is it working?" Eva’s question sliced through the tension.

"Hard to say." My words were mere whispers against the roar of magic. "But we cannot stop now."

"Never," Sasha agreed, her gaze locked on the glow that enveloped Saoirse.

"Never," Eva echoed, her hands steady despite the chaos.

Time lost meaning as we poured ourselves into the ritual. Minute by minute, heartbeat by heartbeat, we were on the edge of disaster. Through it all, I clung to the hope that it would work so Saoirse would survive, and her child would thrive.

"Please," I found myself praying to any force that would listen. "Protect them."

"Protect them," Sasha breathed, her plea joining mine.

"Protect them," Eva affirmed, her conviction unwavering.

The ground beneath our feet trembled, and the air shimmered. Yet, we stood firm, anchored by purpose and love for a friend whose life hung in the balance.

"Let it be done," I said finally, the last of the incantation leaving my lips, the spell reaching its climax.

"Let it be done," they echoed.

And then, we waited, our fates connected with Saoirse’s, hoping beyond hope for a sign of triumph.