The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 196

Saphira glanced at Nikolas as the wolf Elder lunged at him, jaws wide, claws flashing, but Nikolas didn’t retreat.

He met the charge head-on, the Elder snarled, trying to twist away, but Nikolas was faster now and stronger. His tail whipped around, catching the wolf mid-spin and slamming him into the stone wall with a crack that echoed across the ruins.

The Elder staggered, dazed.

Nikolas shifted mid-stride, his dragon form folding into his body as he advanced in human form, eyes blazing. He grabbed the Elder by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him down with a roar that shook the earth.

The wolf didn’t rise again.

Saphira felt the shift before she saw him. Nikolas stepped beside her, blood streaked across his arm, silver light still flickering along his skin. Their eyes met but before they could say anything, the vampire Elder lunged.

And the second vampire Elder joined him.

They moved like twin shadows. The first struck with precision, his fingers like blades, while the second fought with raw speed, darting between them, trying to flank. Saphira and Nikolas moved in sync, Vaelora was embracing working in sync with the newly awakened Vorthar.

Saphira ducked a strike, spun, and sent a blast of flame toward the second vampire. He hissed, leaping back, cloak singed. Nikolas caught the first with a clawed strike to the ribs, but the vampire twisted, vanishing and reappearing behind him.

Saphira blocked the blow meant for Nikolas, her forearm catching the vampire’s wrist. She twisted, slammed her elbow into his chest, and Nikolas followed with a sudden burst of fire, mimicking Saphira’s fire, that sent both vampires stumbling.

But they didn’t fall.

They regrouped, standing opposite Saphira and Nikolas, eyes gleaming, magic swirling around them.

Then the second Elder witch stepped forward.

Her robes shimmered with layered enchantments, her staff taller than the last, etched with runes that pulsed like veins. The second wolf Elder beside her was leaner, quieter, but his eyes burned with calculation.

The witch raised her staff.

Saphira felt the pressure instantly, like gravity doubling, then tripling. Her knees buckled slightly, breath catching. Nikolas grunted beside her, feeling the pressure just the same.

The spell wrapped around them. It pressed against their minds, their bond, their dragons. Vaelora roared inside her, but even that felt distant, muffled.

The rest of the Arrax pack surged forward, but couldn’t break through.

A shimmering barrier had risen around the fight, locking Saphira and Nikolas inside. Raven tried to counter it, her hands glowing with runes, other witches flanking her, but the spell didn’t budge.

“I can’t get through,” Raven shouted, voice strained. “It is too strong.”

Saphira gritted her teeth, sweat beading on her brow. Her fingers curled into fists, flame flickering weakly around her knuckles.

Saphira’s eyes met Nikolas’s.

The spell pressed harder.

Saphira’s knees buckled, her breath caught in her throat like a snare. The Elder witch’s magic wrapped around her and Nikolas like a vice, tightening, suffocating, pulling at their minds with invisible claws. Her flame flickered, dimming under the weight, as if the very air were trying to extinguish her. Beside her, Nikolas grunted, claws digging into the stone to stay upright, silver light sputtering across his skin like a failing heartbeat.

The barrier held.

Outside it, the Arrax pack clawed and roared. Raven and the witches cast counterspells in rapid succession, runes flaring and fading. Finn snarled, slamming his shoulder against the shimmering wall. Zafira and Ashers’s dragons form circled overhead, wings beating hard, their roars splitting the sky, but nothing broke through.

Inside the dome, the Elder witch stood tall, her obsidian staff glowing with layered runes that pulsed like veins. Her eyes locked onto Saphira and Nikolas, they were cold, full of venom. She wasn’t just casting. She was controlling. She was unravelling.

Saphira’s vision blurred. Her body trembled. Her flame dimmed, her bond with Nikolas frayed like a thread stretched too thin. She felt herself slipping, her instincts scattered.

*‘Vaelora,’* she gasped inwardly. *‘I can’t hold it.’*

The dragon’s voice came, low and steady, like a heartbeat beneath the earth. *‘You’re trying to fight with what you know. But there’s more. Deeper. Older. You’ve only touched the surface.’*

*‘Then show me,’* Saphira whispered. *‘I’m ready.’*

The world stilled.

Inside her, something shifted, like a door unlocking in the marrow of her bones. Vaelora didn’t roar this time. She breathed. And the breath was ancient.

Saphira felt it rise from her core, not just flame, but something primal. A fusion. Her dragon fire intertwined with something older, something buried deep in her blood. Her pulse doubled, her senses expanded. She saw the spell not as pressure, but as architecture, woven threads of intent and fear and control.

And she saw where it could break.

Silver light flared beside her. Nikolas turned, eyes wide as he saw her, truly saw her. Her aura shimmered golden, threaded with violet, radiant and unfamiliar. His own power pulsed in response, the bond between them glowing like a tether of light drawn taut.

Saphira reached out, not with her hand, but with her soul.

Nikolas met her halfway.

Their bond ignited.

And the spell cracked.

The Elder witch’s eyes widened. Her staff flared, runes burning brighter, desperate, but it was too late. Saphira and Nikolas stood together, their powers fused, two halves of something ancient and whole, something the Elders had never accounted for.

Saphira lifted her hand, and fire erupted precisely. It sliced through the bindings like a blade through silk. Nikolas roared, silver light bursting from his chest, and the barrier shattered outward in a shockwave of heat and light.

The Elder witch stumbled, her staff dimming, her magic unravelling. The vampire Elders reeled, shielding their eyes, their illusions breaking apart like smoke in wind.

The Arrax pack surged forward, the wall gone. Finn led the charge, claws flashing. Raven’s spells collided with the remnants of the witch’s enchantments. Zafira dove, scattering the mist with a gust of her wings. Jed, Asher, and Anastasia followed, swift and fierce.

Saphira stood tall, her body humming with power, her flame steady and strange. Her eyes locked on the witch, who now clutched her broken staff like a lifeline.

“You tried to break us,” Saphira said, voice low and resonant. “But we’re not yours to bend.”

Nikolas stepped beside her, silver fire still flickering across his skin. “We’re done playing.”

And the ruins trembled with what they had become.