Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1494 - 93 : Answers and Antidotes

*Saoirse*

The cold wind lashed against my face. I tightened my grip around Rhys, whose head lay heavy against my chest. His breaths were shallow, and his once vibrant eyes were now dull and clouded with pain. Below us, Auxreon’s wings beat with powerful strokes, the mighty dragon’s form cutting through the sky as we neared the Egoren palace. Saphira followed close behind, her majestic form burdened with the limp figures of Rhys’ men.

"Stay with me, Rhys," I murmured into his ear, though I didn’t know if he could hear me. The warmth of his body was the only proof I had that he was still with me. The fiery spirit that had first drawn me to him was gone. There was no fire now, only icy fear as I clung to the hope that he would pull through.

I needed him to pull through.

The palace loomed ahead. It should have meant home and safety, but I couldn’t shake the dread that gnawed at my insides. As we descended onto the grand courtyard, servants and soldiers alike turned their gaze upward, shock registering on their faces at the sight of their prince so vulnerable.

"Help us!" I cried out, my voice hoarse, the moment Auxreon’s claws touched the ground. I slid from his back, Rhys cradled in my arms like a precious but broken treasure. "He’s dying! And his men have been struck by a vile poison! They need to get to the healers. Now! Please!"

The staff rushed forward, their faces a blur as they scrambled to take Rhys from my arms. They laid him on a makeshift stretcher, their movements frantic yet precise as they began the urgent march toward the royal infirmary.

"Care for them, please," I pleaded, following close on their heels, my heart hammering in my chest. The infirmary doors burst open before us, the sterile smell of herbs and potions meeting us. Hadwyn, one of the head healers, was there waiting.

They immediately got to work. I stepped back to allow them room to move without my interference. A sense of helplessness washed over me. I was no healer. All I could do was stand by and watch as they carried my husband and his guards and hope that they could bring them back from the brink of death.

"Save him," I said, the command weak, almost a whimper, as I looked into the baffled eyes of the healers. "You must save him."

I hovered at the edge of the room, my eyes never leaving Rhys’ pallid face. Hadwyn’s hands moved with a healer’s grace over Rhys’ body. His brow furrowed deeply as he probed and pushed with an air of growing concern.

"Paralyzed," Hadwyn muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "From the waist down, yet in pain." The disbelief and confusion lined his brow. He turned to the other men, each laid upon their cot, their faces twisted in silent agony. The same verdict fell on all—a mysterious paralysis gripped them, binding them to their beds like invisible chains.

"Tell me everything." Hadwyn’s gaze locked onto mine, seeking answers in my haunted expression. I could see the urgency mixed with a dawning fear. He was taking the situation seriously, but his response did nothing to calm my nerves.

"Alexa," I spat the name out like a curse, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "She ambushed them. She had cleverly twisted traps... poison... She poisoned them," I continued, the words tumbling from my lips in a venomous cascade. "Animal toxins, I believe. She knew what she was doing. She aimed to inflict the most prolonged suffering."

Hadwyn’s face hardened as he absorbed the information, his mind undoubtedly racing through his knowledge of poisons and cures. A chill ran down my spine as I watched him and felt the weight of his silence.

"Poison is a coward’s weapon," I whispered, my voice trembling with rage and despair. "And Alexa wielded it with a vengeful precision."

"Indeed," Hadwyn replied, his tone grave. "We must act quickly."

Hadwyn’s hands hovered over Rhys’s prone form, his fingers tracing the air as if to pull answers from the very ether. His brow furrowed as he moved to another area and then again.

"Unprecedented," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "These poisons... They’re designed to block the spine’s connection to the body, suppressing the neurological connections somehow. It’s as if the instructions have been stolen, leaving only silence and this..." He gestured to Rhys’s motionless legs with a mixture of frustration and awe.

"Can you cure him?" My voice was barely a whisper, my throat tight with fear. I watched Rhys, whose gaze met mine with a pained expression that cut deeper than any blade.

Hadwyn let out a heavy sigh, his eyes never leaving Rhys. "These are not simple venoms drawn from nature’s apothecary, Saoirse. They’ve been crafted and twisted into something far more sinister. It is something that mocks our understanding of medicine." He shook his head slowly. "I do not possess remedies for such advanced malice."

"Please," I pleaded, stepping closer, my hand reaching out as if I could somehow transfer my will to fight through my touch. Rhys’ skin was cold and clammy beneath my fingers, but I clung to him as if he were my anchor because he was. "You must try something, anything. There has to be hope."

"Hope is not a poultice I can apply," Hadwyn said quietly, though not unkindly.

"Then create one!" Desperation laced my words like poison of its own. "I beg of you, Hadwyn. Rhys cannot... He will not end like this. He is strong, stronger than anyone knows. But he needs your strength now. We will give you anything, everything. Whatever it takes, name your price."

The healer met my gaze, the weight of my vow hanging heavily between us. "My duty is to heal and fight against the darkness that would claim the lives and limbs of those I am sworn to protect. I will exhaust every resource, every scrap of knowledge I possess. But I must warn you, Saoirse, some evils are beyond the reach of gold or good intentions."

"Then let it be our reach that defies such limits," I said firmly, my resolve hardening like steel.

Hadwyn nodded once gravely and turned back to Rhys, his hands moving with renewed purpose. His fingers were a blur, darting from vial to scroll, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and the heavy silence that accompanied grave uncertainty.

With each passing hour, he poured over the venomous concoctions drawn from Rhys’ blood, his alchemical expertise pushed to its limits. All the while, I stayed by Rhys’ side, holding onto his hand and my hope that he could and would recover.

"Any progress?" I asked, my voice raspy and pinched, afraid to break his meticulous focus.

"Complex," he murmured without looking up. "I am piecing together a counteragent, but it is akin to unwinding a Gordian knot with trembling hands. Time is against us."

"Will... will Rhys ever walk again?" The words caught in my throat like thorns.

"Too soon to say." Hadwyn finally raised his eyes to meet mine, their depths filled with the profound weariness of a man battling an unseen foe. "But I have seen miracles wrought from the bleakest of circumstances. We must hold onto that sliver of chance."

I turned back to Rhys, his chest rising and falling with a slow rhythm despite the turmoil I knew lay within. His hand lay in mine. Once strong and sure, it was now still as if carved from marble. How many times had that hand pulled me close, its touch igniting a fire in my soul? And now?

"Is there pain?" My gaze never left Rhys as I addressed the healer.

"Uncertain. Paralysis often dulls the body’s cries, but the mind can concoct its own agonies. It does seem as though they all feel pain, so perhaps there is something additional in Alexa’s concoctions that can wield both weapons." Hadwyn paused, considering his next words. "I have applied what comforts I can—warmth, softness, the whisper of a soothing draught."

"Thank you." It seemed a paltry response to such monumental efforts.

"Thank him by keeping hope alive. It’s a fragile thing easily snuffed out by doubt."

"Hope," I echoed, feeling it wane even as I fought to keep it strong. As I looked upon Rhys, once a towering figure of wolfish pride now laid low, I knew surrender was not in our nature.

"Rhys," I whispered, leaning closer, "you must fight. You’ve never yielded to challenges before. Do not yield to this. I am here, love. We face this storm together, as always."

There was no response, just the silent affirmation of our entwined fingers. But somewhere beneath the poison’s cruel grip, I believed his spirit heard me. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Days passed, and there was nothing—no answers, no progress.

The spasms came like waves, each one crashing over Rhys with relentless torment. I clasped his hand tighter as his body tensed, a silent scream etched into his features. As the convulsion subsided, he sank back onto the pillows, his breath ragged and heavy.

"Rhys," I murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from his forehead. "Look at me, love."

His eyes flickered open, the vibrancy that once danced within them now dulled by pain and desolation. I saw the shards of his shattered confidence, a haunted self-loathing where warm assurance once lived.

"Please, don’t lose yourself to despair," I pleaded softly. "We will find a way through this darkness."

"Despair?" His voice was a hollow echo of strength. "Saoirse, what is there but despair when every dream I’ve had for my future, our future, lies broken?" The words trickled out, laced with bitterness.

"Then we’ll dream new dreams together." My thumb caressed the back of his hand, willing my touch to carry the hope he so desperately needed. "Hadwyn is still working on an antidote. There is time yet for miracles."

"Miracles..." A sad smile twisted his lips for a fleeting moment before it faded. "I feel like a caged animal, trapped in a body that no longer obeys me."

"Even the strongest steel can bend, Rhys, but you," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. "You are unbreakable. You’re not just the heir to the Crimson throne. You are its heart. Your people, your family, I... We need you."

"Need a crippled wolf?" Bitterness tinged his question, and it cut deeper than any blade could.

"Need my husband," I corrected firmly. "Need the man whose spirit has never wavered, even when visions of the future sought to overwhelm him. That strength is still yours, Rhys. Do not let Alexa’s venom rob you of it."

He turned his gaze away, staring at the stone ceiling as if it held answers to the cruel riddle his life had become.

"Remember our vows?" I pressed on, refusing to let silence claim him. "In sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow... Well, this is our sorrow, and I am as bound to you in this moment as I was on our wedding day."

A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, tracing a path down his temple. With a gentleness born of a love that refused to yield, I wiped it away.

"Rest now," I whispered, settling myself closer to his side, my presence a silent vow of unwavering support. "Let’s face tomorrow together."

"Tomorrow," he breathed out, almost inaudibly.

"Always tomorrow," I affirmed, holding onto the fragile thread of hope that twined around both our hearts.