The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 188

The world returned in fragments.

Cold stone pressed against her cheek, rough, damp, unforgiving. Somewhere in the dark, a low, rhythmic drip echoed, steady as a heartbeat. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and rust, and something older, something sour and magical that made her stomach churn.

Saphira groaned softly, her limbs sluggish, her head pounding like a war drum. She blinked once, twice, vision swimming before it settled into dim clarity. The room was small, windowless, carved from uneven stone. A cell.

Her wrists were bound behind her, the restraints tight and unfamiliar. The metal hummed faintly against her skin, pulsing with a low enchantment that made her skin crawl. Her ankles were shackled too, just enough to keep her from standing. She shifted, wincing as the cuffs bit into her flesh.

Across from her, figures stirred.

Nikolas was already awake, chained to the wall opposite her. His arms were stretched and locked in place, his shirt torn at the shoulder, blood crusted along one temple. Despite the bruising, his eyes were sharp, scanning the room with quiet calculation. The five warriors they’d brought were slumped beside him, each restrained, each unconscious or barely stirring.

“Saphira,” Nikolas said, his voice low but urgent. “Are you alright?”

She lifted her head slowly, the movement sending a wave of nausea through her. “I think so,” she rasped, her throat dry and raw. “Just… dizzy.”

Nikolas’s gaze swept over her, checking for deeper injury. His jaw tightened. “Can you still feel Vaelora? Can you reach her?”

Saphira closed her eyes, reaching inward. The bond was faint, like a thread stretched too thin, but it was there. A flicker of heat. A pulse of awareness.

*'I’m here,'* Vaelora whispered, her voice strained but steady. *'They’ve dampened the bond. But not broken it.'*

Saphira exhaled, the relief sharp and immediate. “She’s here. Weak, but present.”

Nikolas nodded, his expression grim. “Good. That means they haven’t figured out how to sever it. Yet.”

Saphira’s gaze swept the cell. The walls were etched with faint runes, glowing softly in the gloom. The door was thick, reinforced with iron and magic. Her heart thudded against her ribs, a slow, rising beat of dread.

*This wasn’t just a trap,* she thought. *It was planned. Designed.*

She met Nikolas’s eyes again, her voice barely above a whisper. “What now?”

His voice brushed her mind. *“We figure out a plan to get out. I suspect this pack has been recruited by the Elders.”*

Saphira nodded, her fingers twitching against the restraints. *“I think so too. And I think that the battle they mentioned… wasn’t an attack. It was a purge. They eliminated the vampires and witches.”*

Nikolas’s eyes darkened, his silence heavy with agreement.

Saphira shifted against the wall, the cold stone biting into her spine as she twisted her wrists again. The cuffs pulsed faintly with magic, a low thrum that made her skin crawl. Every movement met resistance, like the metal itself was alive, tightening with each attempt. She gritted her teeth and angled her shoulder for leverage, breath hissing through her nose.

Still nothing.

Across from her, Nikolas tested his own restraints, the chains rattling softly with each calculated pull. His face was composed, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room, measuring possibilities.

“Riven,” Saphira called softly, her voice raw and cracked. “Kael. Wake up.”

No response.

She turned her head toward the others, Lira, Dax, and Brenna, each slumped against the far wall, limbs limp, heads bowed. Her throat tightened. “Come on,” she urged, louder this time. “We need you.”

Nikolas’s voice joined hers, low and steady. “Breathe through it. Focus. You’re not alone.”

Riven stirred first, his head lolling before he blinked blearily. “Nikolas…?”

“You’re safe, for now,” Nikolas said, his voice calm but firm. “But we need you awake.”

One by one, the others began to rouse, groaning, blinking, their bodies sluggish as they fought through the lingering effects of the poison. Saphira felt a flicker of relief. *They’re alive. They’re waking up.*

But the moment was short-lived.

The heavy door groaned open, the sound scraping against her nerves.

Three figures stepped inside.

Alpha James led the way, his boots echoing across the stone floor. Beta Alex followed close behind, and beside him was Mara, her expression cool, unreadable, her posture rigid with authority. All three wore the same polished calm, the same smug confidence that made Saphira’s stomach twist.

James stopped just inside the threshold, his smile wide and theatrical. “You’re awake. Good. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to wait long.”

Nikolas’s eyes narrowed, his voice low and lethal. “You’ll regret this.”

James chuckled, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I doubt that. You see, we’ve simply stepped into a role that needed filling.”

Saphira’s gaze sharpened, her voice cutting through the air. “What role?”

James’s smile stretched, slow and satisfied. “The Silvermoon Pack’s. They were useful to the Elders. Until they weren’t. Now they’re removed. And we’ve taken their place.”

Saphira’s blood ran cold. Her breath caught. “You killed half your pack to work with the Elders?”

James didn’t flinch. “We cleansed what needed cleansing. The Elders prefer order. Purity. We gave them both.”

Nikolas’s voice dropped to ice. “They know we’re here?”

James nodded. “Of course. They were informed the moment you lost consciousness. They’ll be arriving shortly.”

Saphira’s heart pounded, her pulse roaring in her ears. *This wasn’t just a trap. It was a handoff.*

She met Nikolas’s eyes, the mind-link flaring open between them. *“We don’t have much time.”*

*“Then we make every second count,”* he replied, his mental tone like tempered steel.

James stepped closer to the bars, his smile widening. “You should rest while you can. When the Elders arrive… well. I imagine they’ll have questions.”

Saphira’s fingers curled into fists behind her back, the cuffs digging into her skin. “And we’ll have answers,” she said, voice steady. “Just not the ones you’re expecting.”

James’s smile faltered, just slightly.

Nikolas leaned forward, his chains clinking softly. His voice was low, dangerous. “Tell them to bring their best.”

James turned without a word, his Betas following in lockstep. The door slammed shut behind them, the lock clicking into place like a final warning.

Saphira exhaled slowly, her pulse still racing. “We need to break out before they arrive.”

Nikolas pulled hard against his restraints, muscles straining, jaw clenched tight. The chains groaned under the pressure, but the enchanted cuffs didn’t yield. Magic pulsed through the metal. He exhaled sharply, sweat beading at his temple, his breath fogging in the chill of the cell.

Saphira mirrored his efforts, twisting her wrists behind her back until the metal bit into her skin. The cuffs responded with a low, vibrating hum, tightening just enough to make her wince. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t stop.

“These weren’t made by wolves,” she muttered, her voice low and tight with pain.