Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1525 - 124 : No Other Choice

*Saoirse*

Two years later, Pyroth’s ceaseless war and terror raged on.

The walls of the war room seemed to close in around me. Each shadow cast by the flickering candlelight had me flinching, worried that some new foe was coming after us. As I paced, the echo of my boots against stone seemed to be a countdown to something.

There were decisions to make, strategies to plan, and people to direct. But I felt like I was spinning out of control. The maps and scrolls scattered across the table showed an infinite number of possibilities and defeat, as usual none offering a clear path to victory.

We needed a victory.

"Another village was evacuated today," I murmured, more to myself than to Rhys. "But where can they go? Pyroth’s reach seems to be endless. The foothold he’s managed to get in our realm in so short a time is nothing short of miraculous."

Rhys did not stir from his chair, his gaze fixed on some unseen horizon that I feared was lined with the fires of an invading army. There was a stillness to him, like the calm before a storm, but it wasn’t peace that held him—it was resignation.

This was taking its toll on him too. It was taking its toll on our entire realm and the people we served in it. I rubbed my hands over my tired face and tried to breathe deeply. In and out. In and out.

“Think calm thoughts. A clear head will do me some good. It will bring me answers. I hope.”

But it seemed futile. All roads pointed to a question mark.

"Rhys," I said, stopping in front of him, my hands clenched at my sides. "We must make a critical choice, and we must make it now."

He looked up at me then, his eyes clouded with visions that haunted him—visions I imagined were not unlike the ones he had when we had first met. They had brought us together but had painted a fiery picture that predicted Pyroth’s reign of terror. I could only imagine what he was seeing now, thinking now.

Those same eyes that could blaze with determination now seemed dulled, the weight of the war pressing down on him. He couldn’t see the path out of this either. It seemed to weigh more heavily on his shoulders.

"Every choice feels like a step toward annihilation," he replied, his voice a low rumble of contained power. "We’ve kept him at bay, but it’s only a matter of time before he breaches our walls."

I reached out, laying a hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the tension coiled there. "But we are not yet broken," I insisted. "We will find a way together."

His hand covered mine, a silent vow passing between us—a vow to fight, to protect what was ours, even if the odds were as insurmountable as the mountains bordering our kingdom.

"Every day that passes, Pyroth’s reach grows wider," I said, the urgency in my voice a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of the room.

"Then we shall act," Rhys finally said, standing so swiftly that his chair toppled behind him. "And let our actions speak the defiance that words cannot.”

“Yes. Yes, we will act, but what will we do?”

The frustrated look on my husband’s face as he ran his fingers through his already mussed hair was all the answer I needed. I began pacing again.

The room felt smaller with each step I took, the walls closing in, suffocating my thoughts. My heart hammered against my chest, pulsing in my ears until it was all I could hear. Then, as if struck by lightning, clarity pierced the dense fog of my mind.

I halted, turning to Rhys, the urgency clear in my voice. "What if we just take the risk and rescue Axureon?" The idea spilled from me, raw and unrefined. "If we could infiltrate Pyroth’s stronghold and free him, we would rally the remaining allied dragons and have the upper hand."

Rhys’ gaze lifted, his eyes meeting mine. He remained still, yet I saw the gears turning behind those troubled pools of thought. "It would be risky," he said with a gravity that anchored his words. "Pyroth’s defenses will be strong, and we have no way of knowing what traps and dangers await us within his lair."

I nodded, acknowledging the peril. But fear was a luxury we could not afford. "I know it’s dangerous," I admitted, my voice ringing like a bell of defiance. "But we cannot sit idly by and wait for Pyroth to make his move. We must take action and seize the initiative before it’s too late."

Rhys stood motionless, an imposing figure carved from the very stone of our kingdom. His gaze searched my face, seeking a crack in my resolve. Despite the risk of what I was proposing, there was only a burning certainty.

“We know the devastation Pyroth will bring, Rhys. We know it. You’ve seen it.”

“And if I hadn’t believed his sincerity, maybe we would not be here.” He slammed a fist onto the table in frustration.

“You can hardly blame yourself, Rhys. Even Axureon spoke of his charm and how manipulative he is. As a father of young children, it’s not... He plucked the right strings, and that is all. You are not to blame for wanting to see the best in people. But, this is our best way forward—our only way forward.”

"You’re right," he finally conceded, his tone carrying the weight of an oath. "We cannot let Pyroth dictate the terms of this battle. We must strike without abandon, and strike hard."

Rhys and I huddled over the war table, its surface cluttered with maps and reports. The dim light from above played across our faces as we traced routes and marked potential entry points into Pyroth’s stronghold. Our fingers occasionally brushed as we pointed to different locations, though we ignored the connection for now.

"Here," I said, tapping a spot where the cliffs rose high and treacherous beside the fortress. "The scouts report a series of caves, mostly unguarded. It could be our way in."

"Mostly isn’t good enough," Rhys replied, his voice low. "We need certainty, or we risk everything."

I met his gaze, my heart pounding in agreement. "Then we send our best. Someone who has never failed us before." Trust in our spies was one of the few solid grounds we stood upon.

"Agreed." Rhys’s eyes shone with a grim determination. "What about the interior? Once inside, we’ll be blind."

"Then we won’t go in blind." I reached for another scroll, unfurling it before moving to another. "We’ll find the information and use it to our advantage. Then we memorize it, every corridor, every turn."

As the hours passed, the candles around us burned down to stubs, casting long shadows on the walls. A cold draft snaked through the room, making me shiver. Rhys noticed and moved closer, his presence a comforting warmth.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his brow creased with concern.

"Of course," I lied, trying to sound more certain than I felt. The dragon staff loomed at the edge of my thoughts, its power a siren call that was hard to ignore. I couldn’t help but glance at its resting place, hidden beneath a cloth.

Rhys followed my gaze and sighed. "You’re thinking about the staff again, aren’t you?"

"It might be necessary," I whispered, almost afraid to admit it aloud. It had been so long ago, but the last time I wielded the staff, it had left me weakened for days, a shell of myself.

"But at what cost, Saoirse?" His hand found mine, squeezing gently. "You know the toll it takes."

I nodded, torn between the desperate need to protect our kingdom and the fear of losing myself to the staff’s overwhelming magic. "I do, but I can’t continue to cower from this. Axureon has suffered too long, and our kingdom is crumbling to ash. If it can secure victory..."

"Then we consider it as a last resort," Rhys finished firmly.

“We have reached the last resort,” I replied.

The room grew colder, or maybe it was the dread that settled in my bones as Rhys withheld his acceptance of the truth.

My hand hovered over the cloth-covered relic, the dragon staff that held both salvation and ruin in its grasp.

"Rhys," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "we’ve looked at every angle and considered every possible move." My gaze lifted from the maps strewn across the table to meet his troubled eyes. "But our choices are narrowing."

He nodded, understanding clouding his features. "I know, Saoirse, but think about what using that staff cost you last time."

"I remember," I replied, feeling the ghost of that power’s drain even now. "But if not for us, then for Egoren, for the lives dependent on our courage, and for... for our children."

Silence stretched between us with a heaviness I wanted to ignore. Rhys reached out, his touch grounding me. "You’re strong, Saoirse. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. But don’t carry this burden alone. If there’s any other way–"

"Sometimes, the path chooses us," I interrupted, my resolve hardening like steel. "We’ve run out of time, Rhys. We can’t afford hesitation."

He looked tormented, caught between logic and love. "Then we face it together," he said finally. "Whatever comes, we face it side by side, the way we always have. The way we always will."

“There is no life I want to live without you, Rhys. But, this is something I must do,” I told him. “Even if it means losing myself in the end,” I whispered to myself.

With a nod, I reached for the dragon staff, pulling it free from its shroud. The moment my fingers brushed against the ancient carvings, power surged through me, fierce and demanding. It was like a wild river coursing through my veins, offering strength laced with peril.

"Are you sure?" Rhys asked, his voice rough with concern.

"More than ever," I assured him, though my heart thundered against my ribs. The staff felt alive, an extension of my will and my fear. "This is our chance to turn the tide. Our chance to save everything we love."

He stood, moving to my side, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill of impending doom. "Then let’s make it count."

Nodding, I gripped the staff tighter, feeling its energy pulsate, ready to be unleashed. "To victory," I whispered. It was more a vow than a toast.

"To us," he replied, his words wrapping around the promise we made to each other, to our kingdom.