The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 56

Saphira said goodbye to the girls, lingering for a moment at the doorway, soaking in the warmth that had settled in her chest. It was different, this feeling of belonging, of having something outside of Nikolas and Finn linking her to this place. It wasn’t just duty or survival anymore. It was connection.

There was still so much to figure out, her calling, her dragon, the tangled mess of identity she hadn’t yet unravelled. But for tonight, she didn’t need all the answers. She just needed to take things one step at a time.

Tomorrow, she would talk to Finn.

Tonight, she would be there for Nikolas.

She made her way to her room first, rubbing at her arms as she stepped inside. The early evening air carried a chill, wrapping around her as she moved to grab fresh clothes. Even though she had showered that morning, hours of games had left her hot and sticky, and she wanted to feel fresh before heading to the hospital.

The water ran warm over her skin, soothing in its simplicity. She let the steam clear her thoughts, washing away the weight of the past few days.

Once she was done, she changed into leggings and an oversized t-shirt, nothing fancy, just comfort.

She ran a brush through her damp hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail, then stepped toward Nikolas’ door, knocking lightly.

Silence.

She hesitated, knocking once more, but the lack of response confirmed what she already knew.

He was still at the hospital.

Which meant he likely hadn’t left for food either.

Saphira sighed, shaking her head slightly. Of course, he was still there. He probably wouldn’t leave until Zafira woke up.

Before heading out, she made a detour to the dining room, the scent of freshly prepared food greeting her as she stepped inside.

She grabbed two take-away boxes from the stack, preparing to fill them when a familiar figure caught her attention.

Asher stood by the buffet, staring at the variety of food laid out in front of him, unmoving, his expression distant.

Saphira approached, offering a small smile. “Hey, Asher.”

He turned, his own smile appearing, genuine, but subdued. “Oh, hey, Saphira. Grabbing some food?”

“Yeah.” She lifted one of the containers slightly. “Thought I’d pack up some for Nikolas and I and take it to the hospital.”

Asher nodded, glancing back at the food before picking up a container himself.

“Same,” he said, exhaling. “Nikolas forced me to come and get some food.”

Saphira let out a short laugh. “Sounds about right.”

She started filling her container, but paused when she noticed Asher hadn’t moved, hadn’t added anything to his own box.

“You not like anything?” she asked, tilting her head.

Asher let out a slow breath, shifting his weight. “I just… don’t know what to have. It feels wrong, eating while my mum is unconscious.”

His voice was quiet, heavy, and the way his fingers tightened around the edge of the box made something twist in Saphira’s chest.

She softened, nudging him lightly. “I know,” she said, voice gentle but firm. “But you need your strength. Just grab a bit of everything, see how you feel when we get back.”

Asher hesitated, his grip flexing slightly against the container before nodding. “Okay.”

Saphira waited as he started picking out food.

The walk to the hospital was quiet, the evening air crisp against Saphira’s skin. The sun had begun its descent, casting golden hues over the trees lining the path. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, it was thoughtful, filled with unspoken worries and lingering exhaustion.

She glanced at Asher, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way he carried himself, like his mind was elsewhere, locked in worry.

“How are you healing?” she asked, breaking the silence gently.

Asher let out a slow breath, rubbing his hand absently over his arm as though checking for pain. “I’m good now,” he admitted. “Still a little stiff, but nothing bad.”

Saphira nodded, watching him carefully, sensing the hesitation in his tone. There was more to it.

“But you’re still worried,” she said softly.

Asher’s grip flexed slightly at his side. “Yeah,” he murmured. “For mum though, not me.”

Saphira’s chest tightened.

“What’s her name?” she asked, keeping her voice steady.

Asher hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying. “Anastasia.”

There was weight in that name, something filled with history, something he didn’t need to explain for her to understand.

“She’s my only family left,” he admitted, his voice carrying that quiet vulnerability he hadn’t let slip before. “If she doesn’t pull through…” He swallowed hard, as if forcing himself not to say it.

Saphira reached out, brushing her fingers against his arm, a quiet reassurance, not forcing words, just presence.

“She will,” she said gently. “She’s fighting, Asher. She’s still here. You made it, and so will she.”

His jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded, as though trying to convince himself too.

After a pause, he let out a slow breath. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Then, before she could respond, he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

Saphira stiffened for a second, surprised, but the instant his arms wrapped around her, something shifted.

A pulse of energy, deep inside her chest, connected to her dragon.

She inhaled sharply, her grip on his back tightening briefly before she instinctively pulled away, stepping back as confusion flared inside her.

Asher did the same.

His expression mirrored hers, wide-eyed, startled, searching.

But before either of them could say a word, a voice cut through the moment.

“Asher!”

A nurse stood by the entrance, urgency in her posture but relief in her voice.

“She’s waking up.”

Asher froze.

Then without hesitation he bolted past Saphira, his breath uneven, his entire focus redirected.

Saphira stood there for a second, heartbeat pounding, not from the news, but from what had just happened.

Whatever that was between her and Asher she didn’t have time to question it.

Not for now anyway.