Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1518 - 117 : Fueled By Fear and Fury

*Saoirse*

In the secluded depths of the palace gardens, I stood still as stone, my eyes closed to help my concentration.

The dragon staff lay dormant in my grip, but it would soon awaken and thrash with incredible fury.

I took a deep breath in through my nose, nostrils flaring in anticipation. I willed my muscles to contain the immense energy as I summoned forth the ancient power of the dragon staff.

My exhale came out as a whoosh as I was blown back by a seismic pulse of power.

The air around me crackled with energy while the staff’s crystal pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly light.

Just like before, my body was acting as a conduit, channeling the raw, powerful magic through every blood vessel and hair on my body.

No matter how many times I activated the dragon staff and channeled its magic, each time hit me like a wave of lightning.

For weeks, I had been secretly practicing with the staff, honing my skills and pushing myself to the very limits of my endurance. Little by little, I felt myself getting stronger and tougher, but deep down I still knew it wasn’t enough.

I knew the weapon’s power was both a blessing and a curse, a double-edged sword that could either save my kingdom or consume me entirely, causing wanton destruction.

But I had no choice but to master it.

“I’ve got to learn to wield you to defend Egoren and the ones I love,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

As the electrifying mayhem of the magic tempered down, I started my katas. Iridescent magic swirled through the air in rainbowed arcs and shimmering streaks. Sweat beaded and streaked down my face and dampened my armpits. My muscles burned, tendons ached, and red hair frizzed out wildly from my bun.

The magic pulled at my mind, trying to unravel my will into frayed threads and beckoning me to just let go. It sought to lull me deep into the magic of the staff and allow it to bend and steer me and ultimately own me. The siren call of the magic both seduced and dominated me at the same time, but I couldn’t give in.

If I gave in, all was lost.

It was inevitable that over time, the colossal force of the magic would take its toll on my exhausted and battered mind and body. I could see the tendons and veins in my hands. My skin had grown thin and almost translucent. I caught a glimpse of myself in a polished armor piece. Deep bags had grown under my eyes from excretion and fatigue.

I had to push forward. I had to persist, even if it cost me my youth, beauty, vitality, and life. I had to protect everyone.

Just as I was about to unleash a particularly powerful blast of energy, a sudden noise from behind startled me from my deep trance. I didn’t have to look to know who it was. I suppressed a sudden surge of fury at him interrupting me.

I whirled around, the staff still glowing and thrumming in my hands.

I squared up to Rhys, who dared to wear a mixed expression of concern and frustration. I gripped the staff tighter, my knuckles turning white and jaw setting hard. I wasn’t sure if my anger was justified or not, but it raged through me nonetheless.

"Saoirse, what are you doing?" Rhys demanded, his voice tight with worry.

I serviced him with a flat look. We both knew what I was doing, so he didn’t need to sound like he was my father catching me goofing off instead of studying.

“I’m baking a cake,” I answered, my reply as thick with sarcasm as his condescension. “Can’t you tell?”

I didn’t think Rhys ever fully understood or even appreciated my link to this dragon magic. Sometimes I thought he was secretly threatened by my connection to the dragon magic and my abilities.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use the staff anymore." Rhys slowly approached me, his voice sharp.

I glared at him in defiance, again surprised that he dared to control me.

“I didn’t agree to anything. It’s not my fault you thought I’d let my powers languish,” I chirped back, my eyebrows knitting together in irritation.

“That staff,” he pointed to the source of my power like it was a venomous snake, “is too dangerous for you to wield, and you know it.”

I scoffed.

Just because he was a warrior, did he think he could tell me what was and wasn’t too dangerous to me?

“I’m not some fragile porcelain doll, Rhys. I’m not going to let war come to my home and cower like a child,” I fired back.

“You’re twisting my words. I never said you were weak or delicate. That staff would be dangerous to the strongest warrior or mage, and I’m counting myself if I could use it.” Rhys’ face began to flush in frustration. “You don’t have to use that staff, and you know it, Saoirse.”

"I can’t just sit by and do nothing, Rhys," I replied, my voice dipped low with intensity. "Pyroth is out there, gathering his forces, and we need every advantage we can get if we’re going to stand against him."

I could feel my blood simmering hot in my veins. I wanted Rhys to leave and mind his own business.

Rhys’s dark brow furrowed with concern. His eyes scanned my face as if trying to see the sweet, soft version of me that he preferred instead of the version that was needed, serious and hard.

"But at what cost, Saoirse?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a deep, aching worry.

“What are you talking about?” I asked him, refusing to cave to his needless coddling.

"I can see what this is doing to you, how it’s draining you. I can’t bear to watch you destroy yourself, not even for the sake of the kingdom." Rhys spoke the last part so softly that I barely heard him.

The strain in his voice and the softness in his eyes melted the steel that had been bolted around my heart. Seeing his tough facade crack crumbled my own defenses.

My expression softened. My jaw was unclenched, and my eyes took him in. I physically shook my head back and forth as if to rid myself of the prior crazy thoughts I had. Rhys wasn’t trying to make me weak or make me submit. He was just worried about me.

I didn’t need to be so angry at him. Maybe the staff’s magic tainted my thoughts to feel more defensive than I needed to be.

My husband, the love of my life and father of my children, was not my enemy.

I took a deep breath, forcing the magic in the staff to subside some.

"I know you’re worried, Rhys," I said gently, reaching out to take his hand in my free one.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know I can get defensive when I’m anxious. I don’t mean to take it out on you," I continued earnestly, my heart flooding with love.

I didn’t tell Rhys that it wasn’t my anxiety necessarily that soured my attitude and made me angry. I knew he’d just use it as more ammunition to convince me to not use the staff.

“We’re all on edge. You don’t have to apologize for that.” Rhys rubbed circles on the back of my hand with his calloused thumb.

"But I also know that I have to do this. I have to be ready, for the sake of our people, Keelana’s children, and our children." I double-downed, affirming that just because I was unnecessarily angry at him did not mean that I was going to stop training.

Rhys was silent for a long moment. His gaze, which was locked on mine, darted down to the staff. I could see a flurry of emotions cascade through Rhys, his eyes distant and haunted.

Just like me, he was wrestling with his fears and doubts.

It’s not like I didn’t fear the staff taking over my mind. I most certainly did. It was one reason I was wearing myself out day after day trying to command it. I doubted that I could wrangle its near-sentient power in time to defeat Pyroth and his forces. A huge fear of mine was that it would consume me, and I would go berserk, attacking Rhys and the others I loved.

But I had a much bigger fear driving me to take the risk.

At last, he sighed, his shoulders slumping with resignation. "I don’t like it," he said quietly, his voice filled with a deep, abiding love. "But I also know I can’t stop you, not when you’ve set your mind to something.”

“Thank you for understanding.” I pursed my lips.

The biggest fear I had was that when I was needed most, I would be kept behind and unable to fight. If I didn’t do the most I possibly could to help Egoren, and Rhys got hurt or worse...

I couldn’t live with myself.

“Just promise me that you’ll be careful and won’t push yourself too far." He squeezed my hand and finally let it go.

I knew my limits, but I did have to push them. Just like any other training, if I pushed too far and got injured, I’d be useless when the battles began.

And then my real fear would come to life.

"I promise." I nodded, and a small, grateful smile played at the corners of my lips.

I leaned in and went to my tip-toes to place a gentle kiss on Rhys’ warm cheek.

"I won’t let the magic consume me, not when I have so much to live and fight for," I vowed, meaning every syllable of what I had just said.

“I trust you. I need to get ready to strategize with the generals. Love you.” He kissed me back. My small smile bloomed into a large one.

“Love you too,” I called out as he slipped back out the entrance.

I watched him go, so regal and yet so mortal all at the same time. I knew he made a great husband and a great king, but he still astounded me every day. I was in awe of how much better of a man he could become each day.

The staff tingled in my hand.

I needed to finish my final two katas.

I had only completed one set when I felt another presence enter the room, this one resonated with the dragon staff. Instead of feeling annoyed that I was once again interrupted, I almost felt relieved.

Maybe I needed to stop for the day.

“Hi, Axureon,” I greeted, spinning the staff around my head and back in a final flourish.

“Hello Saoirse,” he replied. His voice was neutral, but I could tell something was on his mind.

“What’s going on?” I asked, knowing he came to me for something other than warning me about the staff.

“It’s Keelana and her family,” he sighed, squaring up to me. “They need your help.”