The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 158

Saphira watched as her pack fought with everything they had, unaware they were trapped in a spell. The rhythm was wrong. Too smooth. Too clean.

Her claws dug into the bark beneath her. *I didn’t mean to reach them before,* she thought, heart pounding. *But I need to now. I need to be focused.*

She closed her eyes, blocking out the noise, the clash of claws, the cries of battle, the flickers of false combat that looped like a broken reel. Her mind narrowed to a single thread of thought.

*‘Vaelora,’* she called inward, voice taut with urgency. *‘I need your help. Directly. We have to stop this. If we can reach Anastasia and Finn, it’s a start.’*

Vaelora stirred within her, the dragon’s presence warm and steady, like a heartbeat beneath her own. *‘Then we reach together,’* the dragon replied, her voice a low hum of power.

Saphira exhaled slowly. Her wings trembled, her body taut with tension. She reached out with her mind, pushing past the shimmer of magic that coated the battlefield like a veil. *“Anastasia. Finn. Hear me. Please.”*

Nothing.

She tried again, her mental voice sharper, slicing through the haze. *“Wake up. It’s not real. You have to stop.”*

Still nothing.

Her wings twitched with frustration, the tension building in her chest. *Why isn’t it working?* Her mind felt like it was pressing against glass, close but not breaking through.

Vaelora’s voice was calm, unwavering. *‘Push harder. We’re stronger than this spell.’*

Saphira gritted her teeth, her breath coming faster, her heart pounding like war drums. *“Anastasia. Finn. Stop. Stop fighting. Listen to me.”*

Still no response.

Her frustration boiled over, raw and fierce. Her voice cracked through the link, louder, deeper, laced with something ancient and untamed.

*“STOP!”*

The word echoed like thunder, reverberating through the trees, the sky, the very bones of the forest.

Suddenly, the entire battlefield froze.

Every member of the Arrax pack stopped mid-motion, heads snapping toward her. The illusion shattered in an instant, Silvermoon wolves vanished like smoke, the clearing falling eerily silent. The air felt hollow, as if the spell had sucked the breath from the world.

Saphira shifted back, her body trembling, her breath ragged. Her knees nearly buckled, but she stayed upright, the silence pressing in around her like a weight.

Nikolas rushed to her side, eyes wide, voice hushed with awe. “You spoke to all of them,” he said. “I heard it. Every one of them did.”

Saphira blinked, still catching up to what had just happened. Her throat burned, her mind still humming with power.

Before she could respond, Jed stepped forward, his voice sharp and disoriented. “What the hell just happened?”

Nikolas turned to him, still breathless. “It was an illusion. The entire fight. Fabricated. Silvermoon wasn’t here.”

Jed’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “But I saw Raven’s signal. The blue flame.”

Nikolas’s jaw tightened. “Exactly. That’s suspicious.”

Saphira stepped forward, her voice low and steady despite the tremor in her limbs. “The illusion was incredibly strong. Too strong. Either the Silvermoon pack has a witch more powerful than we thought… or they had help.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping the stunned faces around her. “Maybe from the Elders.”

Zafira, still half-shifted, looked up, her wings twitching. “So what do we do now?”

Saphira met Nikolas’s eyes. His expression was grim, but resolute. He nodded once, the decision clear.

“We find Raven,” he said. “And the witches. Then we take out the Silvermoon pack, for real this time.”

Before anyone could move, a slow, deliberate clap echoed through the trees.

Saphira’s breath caught mid-motion. The sound was too calm, too theatrical, like someone applauding a performance they weren’t meant to witness. Her gaze snapped toward the shadows, and the pack instinctively tensed, a ripple of unease passing through them like a gust of wind.

Nikolas stepped forward, his stance shifting, his shoulders squared, feet planted, his body subtly angled in front of the pack, his eyes narrowed, scanning the treeline with quiet intensity.

From the shadows, a woman emerged.

She moved with eerie grace, her white robes untouched by dirt or leaves, flowing like mist around her ankles. Her silver hair shimmered in the fading light, and her eyes held a glint of amusement that made Saphira’s skin prickle.

*An Elder.*

She laughed softly, the sound brittle and cold. “Impressive,” she said, voice smooth and detached. “To dissolve my spell like that… from one newly shifted dragon, no less.”

Nikolas side-stepped, shielding Saphira more fully. She felt the shift in his energy, ready to strike if needed. But her attention was locked on the Elder’s gaze. The woman wasn’t looking at the pack. She was staring directly at her.

Saphira’s spine stiffened. *She’s not here for all of us. She’s here for me.*

Nikolas’s voice was low, edged with suspicion. “You’re here to help the Silvermoon pack.”

The Elder tilted her head, her smile widening. “No,” she said, laughing again. “I wasn’t. But I couldn’t waste the opportunity to see how the almighty Arrax pack would handle a fight.”

Saphira stepped beside Nikolas, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her chest. “Then why are you here? If not to help them?”

The Elder’s smile faded into something unreadable. Her eyes gleamed with something ancient, something calculating. “That’s my business,” she said. “But I have what I came for.”

Her gaze lingered on Saphira one last time, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing her. “I’ll see *you* again very soon.”

And with a flick of her wrist, she vanished, her robes dissolving into light, the air rippling with residual magic that shimmered briefly before fading.

Anastasia was at Saphira’s side in an instant, her hand brushing Saphira’s arm. “That didn’t feel good.”

Finn stepped up, his voice grim. “That didn’t sound good either.”

Saphira exhaled, “we’ll figure out what she meant later,” she said, her voice clipped. “Right now, we need to find Raven and the witches. If she really did send a signal, they’re fighting alone and they’ll need help.”

Nikolas nodded, already shifting into command. “Jasper, Talia, Sam, spread out. Use your speed. Find them.”

The three vampires nodded and vanished into the trees, each taking a different direction.

Nikolas turned to Saphira, his eyes meeting hers. “I’ll fly above. Cover more ground.”

“I’m coming with you,” Saphira said.

“So am I,” Zafira added, stepping forward, her expression fierce.

Jed nodded, his voice steady. “Count me in.”

Nikolas turned to the rest of the pack. “Everyone else, stay put. If Silvermoon comes here, we need to be ready. I’ll direct you once we find them.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, tension still thick in the air.

Then, in a blur of motion, Nikolas, Saphira, Zafira, and Jed shifted fully. The ground trembled beneath them as they launched into the sky, four dragons soaring in separate directions, cutting through the clouds like blades.

Saphira’s heart beat hard in her chest, the wind rushing past her face. *Whatever the Elder came for… whatever she saw… we’ll face it. But first, we find our own.*