The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 180

The corridor to the cells was colder than Saphira remembered, stone walls slick with condensation, the air heavy with silence that seemed to press against her skin. Her boots echoed softly with each step, each sound swallowed quickly by the damp air. Nikolas walked at her side, his presence steady, while Raven and Jed moved just ahead, their shadows stretching long in the torchlight.

The weight of what they were about to do pressed against Saphira’s ribs, but she forced her shoulders square, her chin lifted. *I can’t show hesitation. Not here. Not now.*

They reached the containment chamber, a reinforced room tucked deep beneath the cells. The air was thicker here, tinged with iron and old magic. At the far end, a single cell waited, sealed with layered wards and iron bars etched with runes that glowed faintly in the gloom. Inside, the witch sat slumped on a bench, wrists bound, her head bowed as though in sleep. But Saphira could feel it, the alertness coiled beneath the stillness.

Raven paused just outside the cell, lifting her hands. Her voice was low, precise, each word clipped. “I’m binding her now.”

Saphira watched as Raven’s fingers traced glowing sigils into the air, each one pulsing before sinking into the stone and metal with a quiet hum. The magic settled like a net. The hairs on Saphira’s arms prickled as the wards locked into place.

The witch stirred, her eyes flickering open. Pale green irises met Saphira’s gaze, unreadable, like stagnant water hiding something beneath.

Raven lowered her hands, her expression hard. “She’s bound. Let’s go.”

The door creaked open, and they stepped inside together. The heavy click of it sealing behind them echoed like a warning.

Saphira stopped just inside, arms loose at her sides, though every muscle was taut. Her voice was calm but firm. “We need to talk. About the spell you used during the battle.”

The witch didn’t respond. Her gaze drifted past them, unfocused, as if she were staring at something only she could see.

Saphira took a step closer, her boots scraping against the stone. “You tried to take control of someone’s counterpart. You targeted Zafira’s dragon. We need to know why.”

Still nothing.

Raven’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold as steel. “If you don’t speak, I’ll bind your magic permanently. You’ll never cast again. Not even a spark.”

That stirred something. The witch’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her voice came out hoarse, cracked from disuse. “I didn’t use that spell. I don’t know how.”

Saphira frowned, her arms folding across her chest. “You were there. You cast the illusion. You fractured a bond.”

“I cast what I was told to cast,” the witch snapped, her voice gaining strength, a bitter edge creeping in. “Illusions. Disorientation. I don’t know anything about controlling a dragon’s mind. That’s not my magic. I’m not that powerful.”

Jed stepped forward, arms folded, his shadow stretching across the floor. “Then who is?”

The witch hesitated. Her gaze flicked to Raven, then to Saphira, lingering there as though weighing something. “I don’t know. I swear it. That kind of magic, it’s old. Deep. You’d need blood ties or a direct link to the dragon’s soul. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Raven’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s true,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Saphira to hear.

Saphira studied the witch closely, the tension in her shoulders, the tremor in her voice, the flicker of fear in her eyes. *She’s not lying.* She glanced at Nikolas, who gave a subtle nod, confirming her instinct.

Raven’s expression darkened, her arms folding tightly. “Then someone else was working the deeper spell. Someone stronger.”

Saphira’s stomach turned, a cold weight settling there. *Another witch. One we haven’t seen yet. One who’s already watching us.*

She stepped back, her voice quiet but steady. “Then we’re dealing with more than we thought.”

The witch looked up at her, something bitter twisting her expression. “And you’re clearly not ready for her.”

Saphira’s jaw tightened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She met the witch’s gaze without flinching. “We will be.”

They left the cells in silence, the heavy door sealing behind them with a dull thud. Saphira walked beside Nikolas, her thoughts still circling the witch’s words. *You’re not ready for her.* The corridor felt colder now, the shadows longer, as if the truth had shifted something in the air.

Raven led the way back to the pack house, her stride brisk, Jed close behind. They climbed the stairs and entered the office, the fire in the hearth burning low. Saphira moved to the edge of the table, bracing her hands against the wood. Nikolas stood beside her, his expression grim.

“She was telling the truth,” Saphira said, breaking the silence. “She didn’t know how to cast that kind of spell. She wasn’t powerful enough.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Which means the deeper magic wasn’t hers. It was someone else’s.”

Jed leaned forward, his voice low. “We already know who’s behind it. The Elders. They’ve been working with the Matchmaker and the Silvermoon pack for months now.”

Saphira’s chest tightened. *Pure-blooded. That’s what they want. A world stripped of anyone who doesn’t fit their vision.*

“They’re not hiding it anymore,” Raven said, her tone sharp. “Their goal is clear, eliminate hybrids, dismantle mixed packs, and force the world back into their idea of purity.”

Nikolas’s jaw clenched, his voice hard. “Which means they’re watching us. Closer than we realised. Every move we make, every weakness they can exploit, they’re waiting for the right moment to strike.”

Saphira’s fingers curled against the table. “And Zafira was their test. If they can fracture one bond, they’ll try to fracture them all.”

Jed exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “We can’t afford to wait for them to make the next move.”

Nikolas straightened, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Then we don’t. We get the antidotes ready, and we draw up a battle plan. Now. We don’t have time to waste anymore. They could strike at any time, and when they do, we need to be ready. Or we strike first.”

Raven’s gaze flicked to Saphira. “I’ll start working with the witches on counter-wards. If the Elders are embedding control into illusions, we need protections strong enough to hold.”

Jed nodded. “And I’ll drill the pack. Mental resistance, formation changes, bond exercises. If they come for us, we’ll be harder to break.”

Saphira looked at each of them in turn, her voice steady despite the weight pressing against her chest. “Then we move fast. No hesitation. No second chances. If they want to erase us, they’ll find out just how strong we are together.”

Nikolas reached for her hand beneath the table, his grip firm. “We’ll be ready. Whatever they throw at us.”

Saphira squeezed his hand, her jaw set. *We have to be.*