The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 194

The wind rushed past Saphira’s wings, cool and biting against her scales as she soared high above the forest. Below, the canopy blurred into a tapestry of green and shadow, broken only by the occasional glint of river or stone. Her muscles burned with focus, her mind-link humming with quiet tension.

Nikolas flew ahead, his new dragon form slicing through the air with practiced precision. His wings angled and adjusted with each gust, eyes scanning the terrain below in sharp, deliberate sweeps. Zafira, Jed, Asher, and Anastasia flanked them in a loose V-formation, silent and alert, their bodies taut with readiness.

Saphira kept her senses wide open, her thoughts tuned to every flicker of movement, every pulse of magic.

Then Finn’s voice broke through the mind-link, urgent but controlled. *“We’re following tracks. Footprints, likely Cinderwood pack members. The Elders wouldn’t leave a trail, but I think they’re close. The scent’s fresh.”*

Her pulse quickened. She reached out to Nikolas through their bond, her thoughts sharp. *“Finn’s found tracks. Cinderwood, not Elders. But he thinks they’re near.”*

Nikolas didn’t slow, but his wings shifted slightly, angling east. His voice came back low and certain. *“Vorthar’s sensed something. We’re close. Tell Finn to get everyone ready.”*

Saphira relayed the message instantly. *“Finn, Nikolas says we’re close too. Get everyone ready. Stay sharp.”*

*“On it,”* came the reply, clipped and focused.

They flew in silence for several more minutes, the forest thinning below them until jagged stone began to rise from the earth, ancient ruins, half-swallowed by moss and time. Saphira’s breath caught. The architecture was familiar. Weathered columns, broken archways, the same kind of stonework they’d found Nikolas in months ago. The same kind of place the Elders had used before.

Nikolas dipped his wings and circled once, then signalled to land.

They descended in unison, wings folding as claws met stone. One by one, they shifted back, breath steaming in the cool air. Saphira landed lightly beside Nikolas, her boots crunching against gravel. Her heart thudded in her chest, not from exertion, but anticipation.

The others followed, silent and tense.

Moments later, the rest of the pack arrived, wolves, witches, and vampires moving through the trees like shadows. Finn, Jasper and Raven led them, eyes sharp, everyone was already in formation. Saphira nodded to Finn, and he returned it with a grim look.

They crept forward, weaving through broken pillars and collapsed walls. Saphira crouched low behind a crumbled archway, her fingers brushing the stone as she peered through the gaps.

The Cinderwood pack was there.

On watch.

But they looked uneasy, eyes darting, shoulders hunched, weapons clutched too tightly. Their stance was defensive, not confident. They weren’t expecting company. Not this soon.

Nikolas crouched beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. His voice was low, firm. “We go in full attack. Take out the Cinderwood first. Fast and clean. Then we tackle the Elders together.”

He turned, scanning the group, meeting each gaze with quiet intensity. “Be mindful of the witches. They’ll try to mess with your minds. If you feel anything wrong, fall back. Don’t fight it alone.”

The pack nodded, grim and ready. No one spoke. They didn’t need to.

Saphira turned to Nikolas, her eyes locking with his. “We’ve got this,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm building inside her.

He gave her a small, fierce smile. “Together.”

And they moved.

The signal was silent, but unmistakable.

Nikolas moved first, a blur of silver and fury as he lunged from behind the crumbled archway, claws flashing mid-shift. Saphira surged after him, boots striking stone, breath sharp in her throat. Vaelora roared inside her, a pulse of fire and focus flooding her limbs, sharpening every instinct.

Behind them, the Arrax pack erupted into motion.

Wolves shifted mid-run, bones cracking, fur bursting through skin in flashes of primal power. Witches raised shimmering shields, runes glowing along their arms like veins of light. Vampires launched from the ruins, their speed a blur, fangs bared and eyes gleaming.

The Cinderwood sentries barely had time to react.

Saphira slammed into the first guard, her shoulder driving into his chest with bone-jarring force. He flew backward, crashing into a pillar with a grunt. She spun, ducked a blade that whistled past her ear, then dropped low and swept the legs of another fighter with a precise kick. He hit the ground hard, and she was already moving.

Vaelora surged through her, senses razor-sharp. Every heartbeat, every flicker of movement registered like a flare in the dark. Her awareness expanded, tracking allies and enemies alike.

To her left, Jed tore through two wolves, claws raking across fur and flesh. He moved like a storm, brutal, fast, unstoppable. Zafira’s dragon form swooped low overhead, wings kicking up dust and debris, scattering a cluster of Cinderwood fighters with a blast of wind that sent them sprawling.

Asher and Anastasia moved in perfect sync, partially shifted into their dragons. Asher’s claws sliced through the air aimed at the wolves, while Anastasia’s tail swept enemies off their feet with surgical precision.

Nikolas was a force of nature.

He shifted mid-strike, his dragon form landed hard, tail sweeping across the ground in a wide arc, knocking three enemies off their feet. His roar split the sky, and the ruins trembled beneath them. The Cinderwood pack faltered, fear flickering in their eyes.

But more were coming.

From the far side of the ruins, reinforcements poured in, their eyes wide with panic but their weapons drawn, half shifted into their wolves.

Saphira saw Finn’s group intercept them, spells flashing, claws meeting steel. Raven and Talia flanked him, moving with lethal precision, their movements honed and ruthless. Jasper and Sam held the line, vampiric speed allowing them to dart between stone and shadow, striking and vanishing before the enemy could react.

The battlefield fractured into skirmishes.

Saphira ducked behind a pillar, chest heaving, blood pounding in her ears. A wolf lunged at her from the left, she didn’t hesitate. She launched herself at him, twisting mid-air, her elbow cracking against his jaw. He dropped, stunned, and she rolled to her feet, already scanning for the next threat.

*‘Vaelora,’* she called inward, breath sharp. *‘Work with me, we work as one.’*

*‘I’m with you,’* the dragon replied, her voice fierce. *‘Let them feel what we are.’*

Saphira rose, eyes blazing, and charged again.

She moved like fire, fluid, relentless. Her fists struck with precision, her kicks drove enemies back. She vaulted over a crumbling wall, landed in a crouch, and slammed her palm into the side of a wolf, the impact cracking ribs and sending him sprawling.

The ruins echoed with battle cries, the clash of muscle and magic. The Arrax pack held strong, driving the Cinderwood fighters back, step by step.