The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 218

The night was cold and clear; the stars sharp against the ink-black sky like scattered glass. Frost clung to the grass in delicate webs, crunching softly beneath boots as the pack gathered at the front of the house. Breath misted in the air, curling upward like smoke. No one spoke.

They didn’t need to.

The silence between them was full of trust, of readiness, of everything they hadn’t said but felt in their bones.

Saphira stood beside Nikolas, her coat drawn tight around her shoulders, one gloved hand resting lightly on the hilt at her side. Her breath came slow, controlled, but her jaw was tense. Around them, the pack moved with quiet precision, checking weapons, adjusting straps, exchanging last glances and nods that spoke volumes. A hand on a shoulder. A brief touch to a wrist. A look held a second longer than usual.

At exactly one a.m., Nikolas raised his hand, fingers steady in the moonlight. “Right,” he said softly. “Let’s move.”

They slipped into the trees like shadows, the forest swallowing them whole. The journey was long, but silent. Only the crunch of frost beneath their feet broke the stillness. Saphira kept the mind-link open, a steady hum of presence threading through them all like a heartbeat. She felt each of them.

*“We’re close,”* Nikolas said through the link, as the first hints of white touched the horizon.

They reached the outer edge of the Matchmaker’s territory just before dawn. The land ahead was quiet, too quiet. A wide clearing stretched before them, dotted with low buildings and winding paths. The air smelled of damp stone and something faintly metallic, like blood washed clean.

Saphira raised a hand, signalling the halt. Her breath caught in her throat, but her voice through the link was steady.

*“Groups, split now. Jed, Finn, Jasper, take your teams and fan out. Quiet. Precise. We need eyes everywhere.”*

The pack moved like water, flowing into the terrain. Each group peeled off in a different direction, slipping between trees and shadows. Wolves shifted silently, noses to the ground. Vampires vanished into the dark. Witches whispered spells under their breath, fingers brushing runes. Dragons took to the air, wings beating low and slow, stirring frost from the treetops.

*“Report anything unusual,”* Saphira said. *“No assumptions. No risks. We scout first.”*

*“Copy that,”* Jed replied. *“North perimeter’s clear so far.”*

*“South side has movement,”* Raven added. *“Could be staff. No uniforms.”*

*“Mark them,”* Nikolas said. *“Don’t engage just yet.”*

Saphira crouched behind a low ridge, her fingers brushing the frozen earth. Her heart beat steady, but her senses were sharp, every sound, every shift in the wind, every flicker of movement in the distance.

*“We’re in position,”* Zafira whispered through the link. *“No alarms. No patrols. It’s quiet.”*

*“They’re not expecting us,”* Saphira replied. *“Let’s keep it that way.”*

The sky began to pale, the first light of dawn brushing the treetops in soft gold.

They were in.

Saphira crouched low behind a crumbling stone wall, her breath shallow, the cold biting through her gloves and settling deep into her bones. She pressed her palm to the frozen earth.

The compound ahead was cloaked in the soft grey light of pre-dawn. From this distance, the building looked almost serene. The windows were dark, the path undisturbed, the silence almost convincing.

But she knew better.

*“Positions?”* she asked through the mind-link, her mental voice steady, though her chest was tight with anticipation.

*“North team ready,”* Jed replied. *“Two staff outside the gates. Armed, but relaxed. Not alert.”*

*“South team in place,”* Raven said. *“Three near the back. One’s smoking. They’re talking. Distracted.”*

*“East team ready,”* Jasper added. *“One patrol circling the perimeter. Slow. Predictable.”*

Saphira exhaled slowly, her breath fogging in the cold. She shifted her weight, eyes narrowing as she scanned the compound again. Her fingers flexed against the stone, the frost biting into her knuckles.

*“No alarms. No movement from the main building,”* she murmured. *“We go on my mark. Secure and silence. No noise.”*

Beside her, Nikolas crouched low, his shoulder brushing hers. He didn’t speak, but she felt him through the bond, focused, locked on the path ahead.

She gave a single nod.

*“Now.”*

The pack moved like one, silent, coordinated, precise.

Saphira rose, her boots crunching softly against the frost-laced ground. She slipped through the trees, her breath sharp in her lungs, the cold stinging her cheeks. But she barely felt it. Her senses were sharpened, every sound amplified, every movement deliberate.

Ahead, two staff members stood near a supply shed, their backs turned. One leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his posture lazy. The other fiddled with something in his hands, keys, maybe. Neither of them looked up.

Saphira raised her hand, signalling to Zafira and Talia, who flanked her like shadows.

Zafira moved first, swift, fluid, precise. She grabbed the taller man’s wrist, twisted it behind his back with a crack of motion, then drove her elbow into his ribs. He crumpled with a grunt, winded but conscious.

Talia swept the second man’s legs out from under him, her movements clean and practiced. She pinned him with a knee to the chest before he could shout, one hand clamped over his mouth.

Saphira stepped in, calm and controlled. She knelt beside the fallen man, her fingers deft as she bound his wrists with enchanted cord that shimmered faintly in the dim light. She leaned close, her breath brushing his cheek, and pressed a gloved finger to her lips.

“Don’t scream,” she whispered. “You’ll live.”

The man stared up at her, wide-eyed, chest heaving. Then he gave a shaky nod.

*“North secured,”* she sent through the link.

*“South team clear,”* Raven echoed. *“Three down. No resistance.”*

“East team done,” Jasper added. *“Patrol neutralised. No alarm.”*

Saphira crouched beside the bound staff, her fingers brushing their necks, checking pulses. Alive. Shaken. But unharmed. She lingered a moment longer, watching their chests rise and fall, then stood and turned toward Nikolas, who had moved to her side.

“They weren’t ready,” she murmured, her voice low.

Nikolas’s gaze was steady. “They never are,” he said quietly. “Not for us.”

She brushed frost from her knees, her breath steady now, her focus sharpening. *“All teams, regroup at the central ridge. We move to phase two in five.”*

As the pack began to converge, slipping back through the trees like ghosts, Saphira scanned the compound again. The outer ring was theirs now, quiet, controlled, held in silence.

But the heart of it still waited.

And she could feel it pulsing in the distance.