The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 164

Nikolas’ eyes locked instantly onto Saphira and Asher, both frozen beside Anastasia’s table, pale and unmoving. The flatline still rang through the air, a piercing tone that made Saphira’s chest feel like it was collapsing inward.

He reached them in seconds, one arm wrapping tightly around Saphira’s waist, the other steadying Asher’s shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice low and urgent.

Saphira didn’t speak. Her breath came in shallow bursts; her eyes locked on Anastasia’s still form. The doctors surged forward, their movements a blur of desperation and precision. One climbed onto the table, pressing down hard on her chest, counting under her breath. Another injected glowing medicine directly into Anastasia’s vein, the magic sparking violently at the point of contact.

Time fractured.

Saphira felt like she was underwater, every sound muffled, every movement slowed. Her fingers dug into Nikolas’s arm. Asher stood beside her, his face hollow, his eyes wide and unblinking. They were mirrors of each other, grief held at bay by sheer force of will.

*Please,* Saphira thought, her heart pounding. *Please come back.*

The minutes dragged. The flatline continued. The room held its breath.

Then the monitor beeped once. Then again. A weak, stuttering rhythm appeared on the screen.

“She’s back!” one of the doctors shouted, voice cracking with relief.

Saphira’s knees buckled. Nikolas caught her, holding her upright. Asher let out a breath that sounded like a sob, his hand flying to his mouth.

The lead doctor turned to them, her face grim despite the victory. “We’ve stabilized her, for now. But we need to figure out an antidote. Fast. If her heart gives out again, we may not get her back.”

Saphira’s eyes sharpened, her body straightening. “I know who’ll have answers.”

Nikolas didn’t need to ask. “Lupus.”

“I’m going,” she said, already stepping back.

“I’m coming with you,” Nikolas replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Asher moved to follow, but Saphira placed a hand on his chest, her touch firm. “Stay with her. In case anything changes. I won’t be long.”

Asher hesitated, then nodded. “Go.”

Saphira and Nikolas left the triage room, their pace swift and purposeful. The corridor blurred around her. None of it mattered. *I need to know. Now.*

They reached the cells, the air colder here, heavy with damp stone and silence. The guards stepped aside without question. Saphira’s eyes scanned the row, Lupus was in the closest cell, farthest from Ruby. He sat slumped against the wall, blood crusted on his temple, his eyes dull with rage and exhaustion.

Nikolas stepped forward first. Saphira let him.

“What was on the dagger Cassandra threw?” Nikolas demanded, voice like steel striking stone.

Lupus looked up slowly, his face twisted with grief and fury. “You killed my mate. I’m not telling you anything.”

Nikolas didn’t hesitate. He entered the cell, grabbed Lupus by the throat, and slammed him against the wall. The impact echoed through the corridor. “That wasn’t a request. You’re telling us. Now. Or we’ll kill Ruby in front of you next.”

Lupus’s eyes flared. He struggled, gasping, but Nikolas’s grip only tightened.

Saphira stood just outside the bars, arms folded, her gaze cold and unyielding. *You brought this on yourself.*

Lupus hesitated, then finally rasped, “We got the blend from the elders. I don’t know everything. But one ingredient... Dragonbane.”

Nikolas dropped him, letting him crumple to the floor in a heap.

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the cell. Saphira followed, her boots echoing against the stone.

As they stepped back into the corridor, Saphira looked up at him. “What’s Dragonbane?”

Nikolas stopped walking. His expression darkened, sorrow flickering in his eyes. “It’s the most lethal poison known to dragons. If the elders modified it…” He paused, voice thick. “It could be bad. Really bad. Not just for Anastasia. For all of us.”

Saphira’s stomach twisted. Then we don’t have time. *We need to find a cure, before it’s too late.*

Saphira and Nikolas moved fast through the corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls like war drums. The urgency clawed at her chest, each breath tight, each second dragging like a weight behind her ribs.

*Please let her still be breathing. Please let us be in time.*

They burst into the dining room, the makeshift triage centre still humming with quiet chaos. The scent of blood, herbs, and magic hung thick in the air. Healers moved between cots, their hands glowing, their faces drawn with exhaustion. But Saphira’s eyes locked instantly on Anastasia’s table.

Asher was still there, hunched over, his shoulders rigid with tension.

“Asher,” Saphira called, breathless as she rushed to his side. “It’s Dragonbane. That’s what was on the blade.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide and bloodshot. “Dragonbane?”

Nikolas was already moving, his voice cutting across the room as he reached the lead doctor. “It’s confirmed. The poison contains Dragonbane.”

The doctor turned sharply, her expression shifting from fatigue to alarm. “Dragonbane?” she echoed, her voice rising. “Get me a list of neutralizing agents. Now!”

She spun toward the nearest group of healers, her tone snapping like a whip. “We need a full counter-agent prep. And I need dragon blood, a different lineage than hers. Something that can bind and dilute the toxin.”

Nikolas stepped forward without hesitation. “Mine. I’m royal blooded. That should be different enough.”

The doctor didn’t argue. She grabbed a phlebotomy kit from the supply tray and began prepping. Nikolas rolled up his sleeve, his jaw set, offering his arm with quiet resolve.

Saphira stood beside him, her hand brushing his back. Her heart thudded like a war drum. *Please let this work. Please.*

Asher stood nearby, silent, his jaw clenched so tightly she could see the muscle twitching. His eyes never left Anastasia.

*We’re all helpless,* Saphira thought. *All we can do is watch and hope.*

The doctor tied off Nikolas’s arm, found the vein, and inserted the needle. His blood flowed into the vial, glowing faintly with golden undertones. The moment it was full, she handed it off to one of the witch healers already working at a wide crystal bowl.

The witch’s hands moved in practiced circles, her fingers weaving glowing sigils in the air. Powders and liquids were added one by one, each reacting with a hiss or shimmer. When Nikolas’s blood was poured in, the mixture flared, then settled into a deep violet glow.

Saphira stepped forward, her voice tight. “Will it work?”

The doctor didn’t look up. “I don’t know. But we’re about to find out.”

She drew the antidote into a syringe, her hands steady despite the tension in the room. She moved to Anastasia’s side, brushing aside the bloodied cloth beneath her wing. The needle pierced the skin, and the antidote was slowly injected.

Saphira held her breath. Asher’s hand gripped the edge of the table. Nikolas stood behind her, silent, unmoving.

The room fell still.

No one moved. No one breathed.

The monitor beeped once.

But nothing happened.

Anastasia remained still.

Saphira’s heart sank. Her stomach twisted. Come on. Come on, please.