Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1498 - 97 : An Unexpected Contender

*Rhys*

The sun scorched the arena, hot and bright and unforgiving. The air was thick with anticipation. The hunger for violence had spread from the competitors to the gathered crowd. It clung to my skin like the sweat on my brow.

They wanted a spectacle, and I, Rhys Crimson, heir to the throne of the wolf shifters, was to be the center of it all.

After everything I had done for these people, for Egoren, this was how they had chosen to repay me.

"Look at ’em, boys!" bellowed a challenger, his voice carrying over the din. "The crippled, crazy prince thinks he’s got a chance!" Laughter erupted from the crowd.

More calls came from the competitors and the crowd. I did my best to ignore them, but their repeated attempts to rattle the "crippled, crazy prince" were starting to succeed.

"Look at him, barely standing. Such a pathetic sight!"

"The crippled, crazy prince thinks he’s got a chance!"

"I bet he can’t even lift a sword!"

"Prince Rhys? More like Prince Paralyzed!" You’re not fit to rule!"

Saoirse’s hand found mine, her grip tight with worry. Her emerald eyes, usually so fierce, shimmered with unshed tears. "Rhys, please," she pleaded, her voice cracking. Her free hand rested on her growing belly. I knew she worried about the future of our children if I fell. "You don’t have to do this. Just walk away."

I looked into those eyes, pools of concern, and knew what they did not see—the visions that haunted me, the future that demanded proof of my strength. I couldn’t tell her that, so I simply shook my head. "I can’t," I murmured in anguish.

But Saoirse deserved more than words. She deserved a promise, even if I could not voice it. Pulling her close, I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the swell of her belly against me.

I kissed her deeply, pouring into that kiss every unspoken vow, every silent prayer that I would return to her and the twins. My lips moved with a desperation borne of love and fear, branded by the knowledge that this might be our final embrace.

"Be safe, my love," she whispered against my lips, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Always," I assured. With one final kiss to her lips, and one more to her belly, I turned toward the arena where my fate awaited.

The clamor of the crowd reached a fever pitch as I stepped into the sunlit arena, the sand warm beneath my boots. The first of many challengers circled like a wolf eying its prey, his sneer aimed at me with disdainful anticipation.

Before the herald could signal the commencement of combat, an unexpected sound cut through the din. A thunderous banging drew every gaze to the towering doors.

They burst open with violent force, and through them strode someone most unexpected—my cousin, Malcolm. He was dressed for combat. His jaw was set, eyes aflame with an anger that seemed to burn hotter than the midday sun. The soldiers flanking him, grim-faced and resolute, matched his pace, their armor clinking ominously as they moved.

The contender, moments ago so full of bravado, saw Malcolm’s ferocious expression, and something within him faltered. Without a word, he turned on his heel, casting away pride in favor of preservation, and forfeited the fight entirely.

Confusion laced with a thread of panic wrapped itself tightly around my heart. Malcolm’s arrival was as unforeseen as it was dramatic. The crowd, still reeling from this development, fell into an uneasy quiet. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

I searched my cousin’s face for some hint or clue as to why he had come. Had he also come to challenge me? He had never been shy about his desire to rule in my place. Everyone knew his ambitions.

I wondered if this was an attempt to take the throne from me. Would he seek to claim the crown himself, believing me so weakened by Alexa’s treachery that he now stood a chance?

But there was something more in Malcolm’s demeanor, an intensity that went beyond mere ambition. His eyes blazed not just with determination but also with a fierce protectiveness I had never seen before. It was as if he had come not to challenge me but to stand by my side and face whatever trials lay ahead together.

The realization hit me like a thunderbolt, sending a jolt of hope through my weakened body. Could it be that Malcolm, after all our years of rivalry, had finally chosen to stand with me? Had he seen the injustice of this farce, the cruelty of those who would use my injuries against me?

I hardly dared to believe it. As Malcolm strode toward me, his hand outstretched in a gesture of solidarity, I felt a surge of gratitude so profound it nearly brought me to my knees. At that moment, I saw not just a cousin but also a brother-in-arms, ready to fight for our family’s honor.

The arena, once full of jeers and taunts from the growing crowd, was silenced. You could hear a pin drop. All I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat.

"Enough!" Malcolm’s voice thundered. "This man is my prince! He is your prince! By the sacred bloodline we both share, if anyone is going to take his place. it will be me... But not today! I stand with him by his side! Let it be known that any who dare to reach for the crown will first have to contend with me—Malcolm, second heir to the Crimson throne! Succession will not leave the Crimson line today!"

My chest tightened. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. My cousin had come to my defense. It was a loyalty I hadn’t dared to hope for.

"Malcolm," I started, stepping forward. "You needn’t do this. I have accepted my fate. I will face the challengers who dare to try and take my crown from–"

"Rhys," he cut across, holding up a hand. His eyes softened for a moment, a silent conversation passing between us. "This is our crown. Allow me this honor."

Malcolm’s arrival was not a challenge. It was a proclamation of unity against those who questioned my right to rule. This man, who had spent our lives trying and failing to take my place as heir to the throne, had not taken his best opportunity to succeed. Instead, he had offered me what I had always wished he would—kinship.

One by one, Malcolm faced the opportunistic contenders who had hoped to go after the "crazy, crippled prince."

The first contender, a brash man with more muscle than sense, charged with a roar that spoke volumes of misplaced confidence.

"Watch closely," Malcolm said, his voice deceptively calm as he sidestepped the lumbering attack with a dancer’s grace. With a swift motion, as natural to him as breathing, he disarmed the challenger. The sword clattered to the ground, and the man followed suit, his pride wounded more deeply than his body.

I stood at the edge of the arena. My heart pounded in awe and not fear. Each opponent that dared to step into the ring with Malcolm met the same fate—utter defeat at the hands of a warrior who moved with lethal precision. He was like the hero from an old tale, unyielding and fierce.

"Let this be a lesson!" Malcolm bellowed after another swift victory, his chest heaving with exertion and indignation. "Those who seek power without honor are not fit to lead! Prince Rhys has given his all for Egoren, yet you would cast him aside!"

His voice carried over the crowd, silencing their whispers as effectively as his swordplay silenced his opponents. I could see it in their faces—shame, respect, fear. They were beginning to understand the gravity of their folly.

"Remember the bloodline that has kept our lands safe!" Malcolm continued, wiping his blade clean. "Our family has fought with valor and vision! Rhys has fought with everything he has, always! What have these challengers offered? Empty boasts and greed!"

He was right. The Crimson line had ruled with strength and foresight. Although I had made mistakes, I always served Egoren to the best of my ability. Malcolm, with every swing of his sword, reminded them of our legacy—a legacy of protectors, not conquerors.

One by one, they fell. With each fall, my resolve strengthened. Malcolm was fighting for me, for us. In his eyes, I saw not only a cousin but also a comrade in arms, ready to defend our future against any threat.

"Stand with us," he implored the onlookers between clashes. "Stand with your prince, with your future king."

In the echoes of his speech, I found hope that maybe, just maybe, they would.

The arena fell into a hush as the last contender hit the ground with a dull thud, his sword clanging out of reach. Malcolm stood above him, his chest heaving, sweat and blood mingling on his brow. Through the grime and fatigue, triumph blazed in his eyes. He had done it. He had defeated them all.

"None shall succeed!" Malcolm declared, his voice ringing clear. The battered warrior turned to face me, his arms opening wide. He stepped forward and enveloped me in a fierce embrace, the crowd’s murmurs fading into nothingness. "None shall threaten your place, Prince Rhys, not while I draw breath."

His words deeply affected me, reigniting a courage I thought was gone. I clung to him, sensing the remnants of battle shaking through his body. I realized the strong loyalty motivating him to be my protector. The depth of loyalty he had shown me was everything.

"Malcolm," I began, my throat tight with emotion, "I can’t... Thank you doesn’t cover it." My cousin’s strong and surprising support left me searching for the right words. "You’ve given me more than just today. You’ve given me a glimpse of hope."

He pulled back slightly, his grin undiminished despite the cuts and bruises marking his skin. "Hope is what we live for, isn’t it? For you, for your children, for Egoren," he said, clasping my shoulder firmly. "I’ll always be here, Rhys. Whatever challenges you, whatever battles you face, you’re not alone."

I nodded, my vision blurring with unshed tears. In this moment of shared victory, I found a renewed sense of purpose, a reason to fight, not just for my throne but for the family who stood beside me, ready to defend our legacy against any odds.

"Let’s face the future together, cousin," I managed to say, matching his grip. "For Egoren, for our family, for the Crimson line."

"Always," Malcolm affirmed, his voice a steadfast vow. Together, we turned to the crowd, united and resolute, ready to lead our people into whatever the next day might bring.