The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 212

The elemental had long since dissolved into mist, but the energy it left behind still shimmered faintly in the garden air, like a memory that hadn’t quite faded. Raven stood at the centre, flipping through the spellbook again, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration.

Nikolas stepped forward, brushing dirt from his hands. “That was incredible,” he said, voice warm with genuine admiration. “Keep practicing. You’ve got something real here.”

Raven looked up, a flicker of pride softening her features. “Thank you, I will.”

He nodded, then added, “Next time, I’d like to try something different. Spells that could work with mine and Saphira’s new bond. Something that amplifies it, channels it. Maybe even weaponizes it.”

Raven’s eyes lit with curiosity. “You think it’s that strong already?”

“I know it is,” he said without hesitation. “We’ll give you a couple of hours to experiment more spells. See what you can come up with. Then we’ll go again.”

Raven nodded, her fingers already flipping to a new section. “Alright. I’ll see what I can find.”

Nikolas turned to Saphira, offering a small, knowing smile. “Ready to go work on our bond?”

She returned the smile with a nod, and together they left the garden, heading toward the eastern edge of the pack lands. The usual training clearing was already in use, Jed, Zafira, Asher, and Anastasia soared overhead in their dragon forms, weaving through the trees in a blur of wings and firelight.

Saphira and Nikolas veered off the path, making their way toward a quieter glade nestled between two ridges. The grass here was tall and golden, swaying gently in the breeze. The air was warm and still, the sky stretched wide above them like a held breath.

They walked in silence for a while, the adrenaline of the earlier fight still humming beneath their skin.

Then Nikolas spoke, his voice low. “That was… something else.”

Saphira glanced at him. “You felt it too.”

He nodded. “Every move. Every breath. It wasn’t even thought, it was instinct. Like I already knew where you’d be. What you needed.”

“It was more than instinct,” she said softly. “It was like we were sharing the same current. Like Vaelora and Vorthar were moving through us.”

Nikolas stopped, turning to face her fully. “Maybe that’s what we need to explore. Not just the bond between us, but the bond between them.”

Saphira’s breath caught. “You think they’re syncing too?”

“I think they already have,” he said. “We just haven’t caught up yet.”

Saphira could feel it again, that quiet hum beneath her skin, the way her heartbeat seemed to echo his. A rhythm that wasn’t hers alone anymore.

“We should try and catch up then,” she said, a spark of determination in her voice. “We need to see what they can do too.”

Nikolas nodded. “Let’s see what happens when we stop trying to control it, and start listening.”

Saphira hesitated, then asked, “Before we do… I didn’t get the chance to ask. What happened to the witch? How did she die?”

Nikolas’s expression shifted, his hands gently resting on her shoulders. “She succumbed to her injuries,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Saphira looked down, her voice soft. “It’s okay. I just… I hoped we could get answers for Amara. I think it’s weighing on her more than she’s letting on.”

“I know,” Nikolas said. “The only thing we can do now is ask Raven to check her over. Make sure nothing’s lingering. She might be thinking something is going to go wrong still.”

Saphira nodded. “Perfect. Thank you.”

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, a smirk tugged at her mouth. “Come on then, let’s see what we can do together.”

Nikolas grinned. “Let’s.”

Saphira stood beside Nikolas, her pulse steady but expectant. The bond between them hummed like a live wire. Subtle, but undeniable. They had come here to listen.

To let go of control.

To see what Vaelora and Vorthar could do when given space to rise.

Nikolas closed his eyes first. Saphira followed, her breath syncing with his. She felt the shift begin, not in her body, but in her soul. A ripple of heat, a flicker of flame behind her ribs. Vaelora stirred.

They began slowly, half-shifting, claws extending, eyes glowing, their senses sharpening. Their movements were fluid, instinctive. Saphira lunged forward, and Nikolas met her with a mirrored step, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm. They circled, dodged, struck, not to harm, but to test. To feel.

The bond pulsed between them like a second heartbeat.

They trained for over an hour in that state, pushing the limits of their coordination. Every time Saphira twisted, Nikolas was already there. Every time he feinted, she countered without thought. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Their dragons were whispering beneath their skin, guiding them.

Then, without a word, they stepped back.

Saphira met his gaze. “Ready?”

Nikolas nodded. “Let’s go further.”

They let the shift take them fully.

Bones lengthened. Wings unfurled. Scales shimmered into existence. Vaelora emerged in a shimmer of gold and violet, before settling down to her unique dark and white form. Vorthar followed, his new white scales shimmering, his wings crackling with residual heat. The glade trembled beneath their weight.

For a moment, they simply stood. Two dragons, side by side, the bond between them glowing like a tether of light.

Then they moved.

They took to the sky, weaving through the trees, their wings carving the air in perfect unison. They dove, twisted, rose again, testing speed, strength, precision. When one banked, the other followed. When one roared, the other echoed.

And then it happened.

They struck at the same time, two bursts of elemental energy, one silver flame, one molten gold. The blasts collided midair and fused, erupting in a radiant shockwave that rippled across the glade, flattening the grass in a perfect circle.

They landed hard, breathless, the earth scorched beneath their claws.

Saphira shifted back first, her chest heaving. Nikolas followed, his skin still glowing faintly with Vorthar’s fire.

They stared at the scorched ring in silence.

“What on earth… we just did that.” Saphira asked, voice hushed.

Nikolas nodded, awe in his eyes. “That wasn’t just us. That was them too.”

“They’re more synced than we realized,” she whispered. “I can feel the difference, but I wasn’t expecting that. It was more like magic than flame, how is it even possible.”

Nikolas stepped closer, brushing a hand down her arm. “I’m not sure, but my mother was a powerful witch and she hid your true form with magic, maybe it’s all connected.”

Saphira could still feel Vaelora’s breath in her lungs, the echo of Vorthar’s roar in her bones. She reached for Nikolas’s hand, and when their fingers touched, the energy pulsed again gentler this time, but unmistakable.

“It could be,” she said. “But however it happened, I’m glad it did.”

Nikolas nodded. “Me too, so let’s see what they can really do.”

And as they stood in the centre of the glade, the wind rising around them, Saphira knew they had only scratched the surface.