Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1602 - 44 : At Each Other’s Throats

*Briella*

I leaned heavily against an ancient oak, my chest heaving with emotion. The argument with Drius still echoed in my ears, his words sharp as thorns.

"Go home, Briella," he had insisted, his hazel eyes hard and unyielding. "It’s not safe here. The villain we face... is beyond anything we’ve encountered. You will be safer at home with your people."

I bit back a sob, frustration welling up inside me. Drius was more than just a friend. He was family, a brother to me just as surely as Kai. Our childhood memories were intertwined with laughter and shared secrets. But now, his stubbornness and relentless determination were all becoming too much.

"I can’t just leave, Drius," I replied, my voice cracking with the strain of our predicament. "You know I can’t abandon the valley, especially not when it needs us most."

He shook his head, neatly cropped brown hair catching the fleeting light. "This is madness, Bri. You’re not invincible."

His concern tugged at my heart but also lit a fire within me. I was no damsel in need of rescue. I was a warrior of Drogomor, trained to defend and fight.

"Neither are you," I shot back, planting my feet firmly on the ground. "But we have our duties. We can’t turn our backs on them."

Drius scowled, his gaze drifting past me to where Kryzen stood, silent and brooding in the shadows.

"Especially not for him," he muttered, bitterness lacing his tone.

Kryzen’s presence was like a storm cloud, dark and imposing. His grey eyes flickered with an intensity that matched the electric charge in the air. Since I had refused to leave with Drius, the hostility between them had only grown.

"How are you and Kryzen supposed to work together if you can’t even stand to be in the same room?" I wondered aloud, voicing the concern that gnawed at my insides. It was a question that demanded an answer, but I feared what that answer might be.

"Work together?" Drius scoffed, bitterness creeping into his voice. "That would require Kryzen to actually listen for once."

"Listening goes both ways, Drius," I pleaded, stepping closer to Drius. "The elders trust Kryzen. They want us to work together."

"Trust?" Drius scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "That’s a heavy word to throw around these days."

"Then what do you suggest?" I asked, desperation sharpening my words.

"Stay away from him," Drius said, his voice low and dangerous. "He’s nothing but trouble, Briella. Can’t you see the way he looks at you like you’re some prize to be won?"

I felt my cheeks burn, but I pushed aside the heat. This was not about me or Kryzen’s inscrutable gaze. It was about survival and facing a darkness that threatened to swallow us whole.

"Kryzen hates you too, you know," I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a half-hearted jest. "Seems like you both have something in common after all."

Drius didn’t smile. Instead, he glanced toward the sky, where the stars were fading, one by one.

It didn’t get better from there. If anything, it only seemed to get worse. Neither of them was willing to work together. Kryzen, at least, respected my wishes.

The mere thought of him made my pulse quicken, though now wasn’t the time for such reflections. Kryzen and Drius were like oil and water or fire and ice. Mutual hatred simmered just beneath the surface, ready to ignite at the slightest provocation.

"Kryzen, you cannot expect me to agree with this madness," Drius spat, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the dimly lit chamber we had gathered in.

"Your agreement is not required," Kryzen retorted, his grey eyes stormy as the sea during a tempest. "Only your cooperation."

"Your recklessness will be the death of us all," Drius spat, his face illuminated by the flickering flames, eyes blazing with defiance.

"Better than cowering in fear," Kryzen retorted, his stance unyielding, the hard lines of his jaw set in stone. "We need to act, not hide."

I felt an invisible weight press upon my chest. Each word they exchanged was like another stone added to the burden I bore. The responsibility to mediate and soothe ruffled feathers while also making decisions that could alter our fate lay heavy on my heart. Each man was dear to me in his own right—Drius, a brother in all but blood, and Kryzen... well, he was something else entirely.

"Enough!" I finally exclaimed, standing up abruptly. The sudden action drew their attention, silencing them for a moment. "This bickering solves nothing. We have a common enemy, and it thrives on our discord."

Both men looked at me. Their expressions softened slightly, but the air remained charged with their mutual animosity. I ached with the need to bridge the gap between them, but the divide seemed too vast, the chasm too deep.

"Kryzen is right," I continued, daring to meet his grey eyes, which seemed to pierce through the darkness. "We can’t wait for the evil to knock on our doorstep. But Drius is also right. We can’t leap without looking." My gaze flitted between them, pleading for understanding. "We must find a middle ground."

Kryzen’s eyes held mine. For a moment, I felt something stir within me—a warmth that spread from my core to the tips of my fingers. I saw the son of the head general, the one raised amidst expectations and solitude, but there he stood, a pillar of strength and protectiveness. Despite having not been around each other for years, his presence had become a constant in the chaos that swirled around us.

"Fine," Kryzen said gruffly, breaking our connection as he turned away, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow in the firelight. "We’ll plan carefully."

"Thank you," I whispered, even though he was already too far to hear.

Between the boys’ constant bickering and the lack of answers I had found, I was ready to burst. Frustrated beyond belief, I sought solace in my brother’s workroom. I entered, muttering to myself about stubborn men.

"Talking to yourself now?" Kai’s voice cut through my reverie, his gaze sharp.

"Contemplating," I corrected, meeting his eyes. "There’s much at stake."

"Indeed," he replied. The edge in his voice suggested unspoken grievances yet to be aired.

"Tell me," I started, hesitating as I chose my words carefully, "do you believe the elders are withholding from us?"

Kai leaned against the wall, arms folded. "The elders have always played their cards close to their chests. It’s nothing new." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because," I said, letting out a slow breath, "it feels like they’re guiding us through a labyrinth with no exit. I can’t help but question if they’re truly invested in our success or are just testing us."

"Testing us?" he scoffed lightly. "Briella, you think too much."

"Maybe," I conceded, but my thoughts continued to race unchecked. I feared we were pawns on a board, left to maneuver through dangers with only half the rules explained. How could we protect our people if we were blindfolded?

"Look at what they’ve done already," Kai reminded me, perhaps sensing my rising frustration. "They’ve provided us sanctuary, training, knowledge–"

"Half-knowledge," I interjected, the words sharper than I intended. "It’s cryptic guidance that leads to more questions than answers. You don’t find that... suspicious?"

He regarded me for a long moment. "Suspicious, no. Frustrating, yes. But we’ve come this far because we trust in their wisdom. Don’t let doubt cloud your judgment, Briella."

His words were meant to be reassuring, but they felt hollow. I knew the elders were wise, and their experience was vast, but doubt lingered, a stubborn shadow that refused to be dispelled.

"Trust is all well and good until it blinds you," I said quietly. "But you’re right. They’ve seen us through much. Maybe I am being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous isn’t the word I’d use," he said with a wry smile. "Just... be careful. In war, the heart is often the first casualty."

"Then it’s fortunate I’m a warrior," I retorted, trying to mask the unease that clung to me like a second skin. "My heart will have to fend for itself."

"Good," he replied, pushing off from the wall. "We need clear heads for what’s to come."

"Clear heads," I echoed, although mine was anything but.

I wandered back to the house, but sleep did not find me. Instead, I found myself pacing my room, trying to make sense of everything and find the best way forward.

It was in this stillness that the weight of my feelings became unbearable. A battle raged within me, as fierce as any I’d faced with a sword in hand. My heart yearned for Kryzen, for the possibility of something more than friendship, but my mind spun tales of caution and consequence.

"Love is a luxury," I murmured to the night. "It is one I can’t afford, not now." But even as I spoke the words, doubt crept into their edges. Kryzen’s intensity and unexpected moments of tenderness had carved a niche in my soul.

I needed an escape.

"Where are you going?" Kai’s voice cut through the quiet. He peered out from his room, concern etching his features.

"I need air. I won’t go far," I lied smoothly, knowing full well that going off alone was a dumb idea.

"Be careful," he whispered, his eyes betraying his awareness that I was holding back the full truth.

Once outside, the crisp air hit me. I breathed deeply, trying to draw calmness from the night itself. But peace eluded me, chased away by the echo of Drius’ arguments and Kryzen’s steely gaze.

"Damn it," I hissed under my breath, feeling the familiar stirrings of my other self clawing beneath my skin.

The cool air kissed my cheeks, and the scent of pine filled my lungs. With every step away from the safety of our temporary haven, my pulse quickened. It was not from fear but from the thrill of reckless freedom.

"Reckless indeed," I scolded myself softly, pausing to lean against a tree. "What am I doing?"

I glanced around, ensuring no one was in sight. With a shuddering exhale, I welcomed the change. My body contorted, bones realigned, and fur sprouted across my skin as the transformation took over. It was a pain that had become an old friend, leading me to the freedom only my wolf form could offer.

As the last remnants of my human shape melded into the sleek, powerful body of my wolf, I shook my head, ridding myself of the last vestiges of human doubts. My senses exploded with new intensity—the scents of the forest, the sounds of nocturnal life, and the feel of the earth beneath my paws.

I needed to run and lose myself in the physicality of the chase. Without hesitation, I leaped forward, muscles bunching and releasing with graceful power. The trees became a blur as I sped through the underbrush, dodging roots and low-hanging branches with innate agility.

"Run, run, run," the rhythm of my paws seemed to chant as I pushed myself faster, letting the wind tear through my fur.

A howl built within me, a sound of frustration and longing that demanded release. I threw my head back and let it out, a mournful note that carried across the valley, mingling with the whispers of the night.

"Let them hear," I thought fiercely. "Let them know Briella Black won’t be caged."