Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1492 - 91 : Deadwood Forest

*Saoirse*

Deadwood Forest lived up to its name, a silent expanse of gnarled trees and shadows that seemed to swallow the light. My heart hammered in my chest as I trudged through the underbrush, my gaze flicking from one dark corner to another. The thought of Rhys being lost and possibly hurt somewhere in this forsaken place fueled my steps with urgency.

"Keep your eyes sharp," I murmured to Axureon, who moved like a ghost beside me, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings. Saphira stood by his side, her posture tense and her nostrils flaring.

"Something’s not right," she rumbled. "The air is tainted."

"Can you track him?" I asked, clinging to hope.

"Maybe." She sniffed again, her head tilting slightly. "There’s a trail. It’s not too old.."

"Follow it," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

We followed Saphira’s lead, her form graceful as she navigated the forest. Every rustle of leaves had me on edge, expecting shadows to spring to life and snatch what little hope I had left. I placed a hand on my growing belly and prayed to whatever god was willing to listen.

“Please,” I begged. “Please do not let me lose him again. I cannot do this without him.”

"Wait," Axureon held out an arm, stopping me in my tracks. He bent down and picked something up from the forest floor. It was a shard of metal, ornate and unmistakably part of Rhys’s royal armor.

My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp. Tears threatened, but I forced them back.

"Rhys," I whispered repeatedly, as if saying his name could summon him to me. My boots crunched on the carpet of dead leaves, the sound unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence of the forest.

Saphira snorted, a plume of smoke escaping her nostrils. Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side, listening and smelling. "There’s something ahead," she growled, her voice deep with power even in her human form. It sent shivers down my spine—not from fear but from the knowledge we were close.

"Show me," I said, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

We followed Saphira’s lead. The air seemed thick with the scent of decay and something else. It was something metallic and tangy. Then I saw them. More shards of metal reflected the dim light. They were scattered on the ground like cruel confetti.

Axureon bent down, picking up a piece of the royal armor that belonged to Rhys. His knuckles whitened as he clenched it tight. "This is his," he confirmed.

I reached out, my fingers brushing the cold steel. I felt the echo of Rhys’ warmth in it, a cruel reminder of what we might have lost. My gaze moved from the shard in Axureon’s hand to the ground, where I spotted more of the shards and evidence of a struggle.

"By the gods," I choked out, my voice strained as I picked up the torn fabric. The once-proud emblem of the royal warriors now lay in ruins in my shaking hands.

"Keep moving," Saphira urged, her voice a low rumble. "We need to find him."

We pressed on, following the trail of broken armor and shredded banners, deeper into the heart of Deadwood Forest.

My heart pounded against my chest, a desperate rhythm urging me forward. A fog hung heavy in the air, weaving around the trees like a living thing. It was like a ghostly shroud that obscured the path ahead, making it difficult to see much further.

But fear lent wings to my feet. I raced through the gnarled trees, branches snagging at my clothes, their skeletal fingers trying to hold me back.

"Slow down, Saoirse!" Axureon called from behind, his voice muffled by the thick mist.

But I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t. Rhys needed me. Every moment wasted could be one too many. I needed to find him immediately.

A clearing appeared suddenly, the fog parting like a curtain to reveal the grim stage beyond. My breath caught. Scattered across the mossy ground were the unmoving forms of Rhys and his guards. My limbs turned to ice as I stumbled to his side.

"Rhys!" My voice broke on his name, my hands trembling as they reached for him. His face was ashen, his once-vibrant eyes closed, dark lashes resting against his pale cheeks.

"Please, no," I whispered, my words lost amidst the oppressive silence of the forest. Frantic, I searched for any sign of life, a breath, a twitch, anything.

I prayed to the gods.

For the first time since I’d chosen to give it up, I missed my magic desperately. I couldn’t do this without my husband. I needed him to be okay.

Axureon knelt beside us, his hand hovering over Rhys’ chest before pressing down gently. "Wait," he murmured, his ear close to Rhys’ lips.

I watched, barely daring to hope, as Axureon’s expression shifted minutely. A flicker of something, maybe relief, crossed his features. "A heartbeat," he said, so faint I could hardly catch it, "and breathing... but scarce as a whisper."

"Alive?" The word was a lifeline thrown into the churning sea of my despair.

"Alive," he confirmed, though his brow creased with worry. "But we have little time."

Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away fiercely. Rhys was alive. As long as that single truth held, I would fight heaven and earth to keep him with me.

“What do we do? Axureon, please, what do we do? I cannot lose him.”

“We–”

The silence of the clearing shattered as Saphira’s roar tore through the air, a sound that shook the very trees and echoed like the wrath of the gods. I would have almost believed she had taken her dragon form, but she remained human. The dragon’s eyes, usually a calm sea of blue, now blazed with an inferno I had never seen before. Her nostrils flared, the scent of betrayal igniting her fury as she scented something I couldn’t detect.

"I smell you," she hissed, the words coming out as a snarl. I watched as she transformed from human to dragon, mesmerized. Her massive head swung toward the treeline. Without a moment’s hesitation, she lunged. Branches snapped beneath her weight, her scales glistening like a river of steel flowing through the forest.

"Saphira, wait!" I screamed, my voice faint against her thunderous departure. My heart raced, fearing not just for Rhys but for Saphira. I couldn’t lose her too. Deadwood Forest was no place to be alone, even for a dragon.

But Saphira was gone, vanished into the thicket with only the crashing sounds of her pursuit left behind. I felt torn, my duty to Rhys battling my concern for the dragon. Axureon placed a hand on my shoulder, grounding me and reminding me where I needed to be.

As sudden as her departure, Saphira returned. Trees groaned, announcing her approach before she burst back into the clearing. In one of her mighty claws, she carried Alexa. The woman who had once seemed so beautiful and threatening now seemed small and inconsequential.

"Let go!" Alexa cried, her voice high and frantic as she battered against the unyielding grip of the dragon’s claw. She had torn clothes and wild, tangled hair around her face. Her eyes were wide with fear as she dangled helplessly.

"Please, Saphira!" I pleaded, though I knew not what I asked for. Releasing Alexa could mean losing the chance to save Rhys. Holding her could spell her doom. The dragon’s gaze met mine. I saw the fierce protectiveness there, mirrored in my own heart for the man lying still and pale on the ground.

Saphira landed heavily in front of me, her wings creating a strong wind. Her scales glinted ominously in the dim light filtering through the dead trees. With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she released Alexa, who tumbled to the damp forest floor at my feet.

“You,” I spat, standing my ground. I stood over her, hands clenched tightly as I contemplated just kicking her into unconsciousness. “What have you done?”

"Please, Your Highness, spare me! Spare me and I swear I can save your prince from my toxins!" Alexa’s voice pierced the silence of Deadwood Forest, her plea laced with panic.

I stared down at her, every muscle in my body tensed and waiting. In moments like this, I missed my magic most. This woman deserved my wrath. She had stolen what was meant to be the happiest day of my life, my dream wedding to the love of my life, and turned it into my nightmare.

Rhys’ pale face flashed in my mind. His life was slipping away because of this woman. My heart thundered against my ribs, a wild drumbeat calling for justice, or maybe it was vengeance.

"Save him?" I echoed hollowly. "You caused this! You dare poison my Rhys and his men and now whimper for mercy?"

"Your Highness, I beg you–" Alexa’s words were cut short as I seized her collar, pulling her up so we were eye to eye.

"Give me the cure," I snarled, shaking her so violently that her teeth clattered together. "Now, or by the gods, I will let Saphira decide your fate."

Her eyes, wide with terror, darted between mine and the dragon standing guard behind me. Saphira’s growl rumbled through the clearing like distant thunder, reinforcing my threat without a single word spoken.

"Please," Alexa gasped, struggling to speak under my iron grip. "I have it... I can save him."

"Then do it," I hissed, my fury a living thing clawing its way out of my chest, "before I forget myself and let the forest reclaim you."

Tears poured from Alexa’s eyes, mixing with the dirt on her face as she wept. "Please," she sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation. From the folds of her tattered garment, she produced several small crystal vials filled with a liquid that glowed faintly in the dimness of the forest. She extended a trembling hand toward Axureon, the vial within his reach.

"Quickly," she urged, a pleading look etched upon her features. "This is the antidote. You must give it to him before the poison stops his heart. There isn’t much time."

Axureon took the vial, his broad hands covering Alexa’s frail ones for a moment. His gaze locked with mine, filled with a mix of hope and caution. I nodded, my throat tight, unable to form words as I watched him turn toward Rhys.

This was either his salvation or doom. We wouldn’t know unless we tried. But doing nothing was a sure death sentence. I didn’t trust Alexa, but her desperation seemed genuine. And if Rhys died, I would make sure she suffered for the rest of her days.

Her death would not be swift or merciful.

Axureon kneeled by Rhys’ side, carefully cradling his head and lifting his lips to give him the liquid. I held my breath, my whole being focused on the rise and fall of Rhys’ chest, praying silently for the slightest sign of improvement.