*Rhys*
My worst fears were realized as I joined Saoirse at the window to watch the calamity unfolding directly below my war room's window.
Despair threaded its cold fingers around my heart.
In the courtyard below, the monstrous Pyroth towered over my men, their faces mirrored terror and intended surrender.
Next to the dragon lord, Axeureon lay crumpled at his feet, severely wounded and seemingly dazed because he didn’t even try to acknowledge us. He most likely was drugged along with being held bound by enchanted chains.
It was a painful sight, but an even worse irony was that Saphira helped keep him bound.
“Hold your ground! Do not fire!” I shouted the order to my brigades of archers that lined the castle walls.
I had seen their drawn bows out of the corner of my eye, but the last thing I wanted was a bloodbath.
Shame roiled in my gut. How could a successful king allow himself to be ambushed by their top enemy like this?
