The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 201

The office was beginning to empty, the late afternoon sun slanting through the tall windows in golden streaks that danced across the polished floor. Dust motes floated lazily in the light, and the lingering scent of parchment and pine hung in the air. Saphira leaned against the edge of the long table, arms folded loosely, her fingers absently tracing the grain of the wood. Her gaze followed the quiet shuffle of movement as the pack naturally split into two groups, girls staying by the table, boys gathering near the fireplace.

Nikolas, Jasper, Asher, Finn, and Sam settled into the far corner, voices low, laughter already bubbling beneath the surface. Finn tossed a cushion onto the floor with dramatic flair and dropped onto it like a king claiming his throne. Jasper rolled his eyes but grinned, nudging Asher with his elbow. Nikolas caught Saphira’s eye briefly and gave her a small nod. She returned it with a soft smile.

Jed lingered near the door, his expression focused, jaw tight with purpose. Saphira watched him pull his hood up, his silhouette briefly outlined in the sunlight before he slipped out into the corridor. He didn’t look back. He was already in motion, heading to make contact with the Matchmaker network.

Raven appeared beside her, bumping her hip gently. “You ready for tonight?” she asked, her voice light but warm.

Saphira turned, her lips curving into a smile that felt real. “I think I need it more than I thought.”

“Same,” Raven said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re starting in the games room. Talia’s already threatened to destroy us at cards.”

Saphira snorted softly. “She’s got that innocent look. But she’s a shark. I learned that the hard way.”

Zafira moved closer to them, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I vote we start with something chaotic. Cards, dice, maybe a shapeshifter guessing game. Then end with a game of pool, winner gets bragging rights for the week.”

Anastasia dropped into a nearby chair. “And we finish with a movie. Something ridiculous. No drama. No battles. Just bad hair and worse dialogue.”

Talia laughed, smacking the table with one hand. “I second that. We’ve had enough intensity for a lifetime.”

Amara followed, rubbing her belly absently, her smile soft. “And I need some fun before everything becomes about being a mum.”

Saphira looked around at them, her sisters in battle, in bond, in survival. Each of them carried scars, stories, strength. And yet here they were, laughing, planning, choosing joy. The weight in her chest eased.

“So games first, then movie,” she said, her voice steady.

“After dinner,” Raven confirmed. “We meet in the games room. No excuses.”

Saphira laughed, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “Alright. Games, movie, and no talk of battles or boys.”

“Deal,” Raven said, holding out her hand.

One by one, the others stacked theirs on top, Talia’s, Anastasia’s, Zafira’s, Amara’s, and finally, Saphira’s.

The games room buzzed with soft laughter and the clatter of cards as the girls gathered after dinner. The scent of roasted vegetables and spiced bread still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint citrus of Zafira’s perfume and the earthy warmth of the fire crackling in the corner hearth. Pillows were strewn across the floor, blankets draped over chairs, and someone had already lit a few enchanted lanterns that floated lazily near the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow.

Saphira stepped into the room, her hair damp from a quick rinse, dressed in soft leggings and a loose sweater that hung off one shoulder. The tension in her shoulders had eased, replaced by something lighter, something she hadn’t felt in days. Her flame was quiet, content. She could breathe.

Raven was already sprawled across a beanbag, shuffling a deck with theatrical flair, her fingers moving like a street magician. “Prepare to be humbled,” she declared, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You say that every time,” Talia replied, settling cross-legged on the rug and cracking her knuckles. “And every time, I win.”

“Because you cheat,” Raven shot back, launching a pillow across the room.

Talia caught it midair with a grin and tossed it behind her. “I’m just strategic. You’re just dramatic.”

Zafira leaned against the pool table, arms crossed. “Let’s start with cards, then shapeshifter guessing game, then pool. I want to see if Anastasia still has that terrifying aim.”

Anastasia raised a brow, unwrapping a chocolate bar with slow precision. “Terrifying? Please. I’m graceful. I just happen to be deadly with a cue stick.”

“You’re lethal,” Amara said, lowering herself into a chair with a soft groan, one hand resting protectively over her belly. “And I’m just here for snacks and commentary. Possibly judgment.”

Saphira laughed, settling beside Raven and reaching for a handful of dice. The warmth of the room wrapped around her like a blanket. “Alright, what’s the first game?”

“Chaos,” Raven said, grinning. “We’re playing ‘Truth or Shift.’ You roll, you shift, you answer. No backing out.”

Talia rolled first. The dice clattered across the table and landed on a glowing rune. Her eyes shimmered briefly, and her hair turned a deep violet, the colour rippling through the strands like ink in water.

“Truth,” Raven said, leaning forward like a predator. “Who was your first crush?”

Talia groaned, flopping backward dramatically. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” the others chorused, voices layered with teasing glee.

“Fine,” she muttered, sitting up and brushing her braid over her shoulder. “It was Jasper, of course. When I was thirteen. He had that stupid braid and thought he was mysterious.”

Saphira snorted, nearly choking on her tea. “He still thinks he’s mysterious.”

Zafira rolled next, her form flickering briefly into a fox before returning with a shimmer. She stretched her fingers, smirking. “Truth,” she said. “Who here would survive a week alone in the wild?”

“Not Raven,” Anastasia said instantly, without even looking up from her chocolate.

“Excuse me,” Raven said, offended. “I have excellent instincts.”

“You once tried to roast marshmallows with a lightning spell,” Saphira reminded her, raising an eyebrow.

“And they were delicious,” Raven said, tossing her hair dramatically. “Charred is a flavour.”

Laughter rippled through the room, warm and unguarded. Talia was already rolling again, her eyes narrowed in mock determination. Zafira leaned over the pool table, chalking a cue with exaggerated elegance. Amara was curled up with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn she’d somehow conjured from thin air. Anastasia had begun stacking cards into a precarious tower, muttering about balance and sabotage.

Saphira leaned back, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of the beanbag. She watched the way Zafira’s eyes crinkled when she laughed, how Amara’s hand never strayed far from her belly even as she teased Anastasia, how Talia’s competitive streak flared with every roll and Raven’s chaos kept the room alive.

For tonight, they weren’t warriors or strategists or vessels of ancient power.

They were just girls.

And Saphira let herself belong to that moment... completely.