The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 222

The Core started to move again.

Not with panic, but with precision. Ten robed figures surged forward, golden light flaring from their palms. Their voices rose in eerie unison, a chant that twisted the air, ancient and sharp. The chamber darkened, the walls groaning as if the stone itself recoiled from their power.

They weren’t retreating.

They were trying to silence her, before the spell could fully take shape.

Saphira staggered as the pressure hit. It felt like a thousand invisible hands pressing against her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Her knees buckled, and for a moment, the light around her flickered.

Nikolas caught her, arms wrapping around her waist, his voice steady in her ear. “Stay with me. We do this together, as one.”

The Core’s magic slammed into the protective weave Raven and the elder witch had cast. The net shimmered, strained, pulsing with tension, but it held. Just barely.

Raven gritted her teeth, her hands trembling, sweat beading on her brow. “They’re trying to unravel it.”

“They won’t,” the elder witch said, her voice like tempered steel. “Not if we hold.”

Saphira gasped for breath, her body trembling with the force building inside her. The grief still burned, but now it was shaped, channelled. She could feel the spell coiling in her chest, vast and luminous, waiting to be released.

The Core raised their hands as one, golden light spiralling into a single, blinding spear of energy.

“They’re going to strike,” Nikolas said, his voice tight with urgency. “Now.”

Saphira closed her eyes.

Nikolas took her hand and stood tall beside her, he was no longer just giving her his strength, he was using it beside her, as one.

The spell ignited.

It burst from Saphira and Nikolas like a supernova, flame and wind, grief and love and fury woven into one unstoppable force. Raven and the elder witch guided it, their hands raised, their voices joined in a binding incantation that echoed around the room.

The Core’s golden spear met the spell mid-air.

For a heartbeat, the chamber held its breath.

Then the world shattered.

The explosion tore through the chamber, a shockwave that cracked stone and split the air. The Core’s formation broke. Their robes were scorched, their bodies flung backward. Screams rang out, sharp, human, real.

And then, silence.

Saphira collapsed to her knees, the last of the magic leaving her like breath. Nikolas caught her before she hit the ground, holding her close, his arms shaking.

The chamber was still.

Smoke curled in the air. Dust drifted down like ash. The Core lay scattered, unmoving.

Saphira opened her eyes, her voice hoarse. “Did we…?”

Raven stepped forward, pale and trembling. “We did.”

Raven knelt beside her, placing a hand on Saphira’s shoulder. Her touch was warm.

“You didn’t just cast a spell,” she said softly. “You became one.”

And in the silence that followed, the pack began to rise, slowly, painfully, but together.

The dust hadn’t settled, but the silence had.

Saphira stood slowly, her legs trembling beneath her. Nikolas helped her upright, his arm steady around her waist. The chamber was scorched and cracked, the air thick with smoke and magic residue. Bodies lay scattered, some unconscious, some groaning, some still.

But the Core was broken.

And in the corner Lupus and Sam were still standing.

They hadn’t moved. Lupus stood at the centre of the devastation, untouched, his black coat pristine, silver hair falling loose around his shoulders. His expression was unreadable, neither fear nor fury. Just… waiting.

Saphira stepped forward, her voice hoarse. “You knew this would happen.”

Lupus tilted his head. “I knew something would.”

Behind him, Sam shifted.

His face was pale, eyes wide, lips pressed into a thin line. He looked at the fallen Core members, at the pack slowly rising from the wreckage, and something in him cracked.

He turned.

And ran.

Saphira’s heart lurched. “Sam!”

But Raven was faster.

She raised one hand, her fingers flicking through the air like a painter across canvas. A shadow surged from the floor, wrapping around Sam’s ankles mid-stride. He fell hard, the breath knocked from his lungs, and the shadows held him fast.

He struggled, gasping. “Let me go.”

Raven walked toward him, calm and quiet. “You don’t get to run.”

Sam looked up at her, eyes wild. “I didn’t know they’d lose. I thought…”

“You thought you’d be safe,” Raven said. “You thought betrayal would buy you power.”

Nikolas stepped beside her, his gaze locked on Sam. “You chose them. You watched Anastasia die. You stood with Lupus. You betrayed your pack and your brother.”

Sam knelt on the fractured stone floor, Raven’s shadows still coiled tight around his limbs. He was breathing hard, each inhale shallow and ragged.

Jasper stood a few paces away, fists clenched at his sides, jaw locked so tight it looked like it hurt. His eyes never left his brother. Not once.

Saphira approached Sam slowly. Her steps were deliberate, her body aching with the weight of what had just passed.

She stepped beside Nikolas, his voice was low and stripped of emotion. “You’ll be held. Until we decide what to do with you.”

Sam looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with disbelief. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

Saphira’s gaze didn’t waver. “You meant enough. You chose your side. You don’t get to rewrite it now.”

Behind her, a low chuckle broke the stillness.

Lupus.

The sound was soft, amused, and utterly unrepentant. He stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, his posture relaxed, too relaxed for a man surrounded by ruin.

“So, what now?” he asked, voice smooth as silk. “You’ve already bound me. What will you do now, keep me in a cage? Parade me through your halls like a trophy?”

Saphira turned to face him, her expression unreadable.

She looked at Lupus for a long moment.

Then she said, simply, “No.”

Before the weight of the word could settle, she moved.

One step. One breath.

Her blade was in her hand.

And then it was through his heart.