The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 89

The dining room’s glow cast soft shadows across their plates, warmth pulsing through the quiet comfort that had settled among them. Saphira twirled a spoon idly between her fingers, listening intently as Zafira leaned into Asher and spoke with a brightness that had been absent for far too long.

“I’ve started to feel like myself again,” Zafira said, her voice laced with quiet wonder. “Like... before. Before everything got twisted. When it didn’t feel like I had to wear someone else’s skin just to get through the day.”

Saphira gave a small, sincere smile and glanced between them. She’s glowing. It bloomed from every movement, how Zafira's fingers lingered along Asher’s wrist, how their shoulders brushed like they couldn't bare to be apart.

Nikolas reached for his drink and took a slow sip, then set it down with a quiet thunk against the table. “Looks like you’re both finding your rhythm,” he said. The pride in his voice was understated, but unmistakable.

Asher’s gaze met his. “I just wanted to say... I get it now. Everything you said before, everything you did, I don’t blame you. Not now.”

Saphira felt the slight rise of tension in Nikolas beside her. She remembered the weight between them all—how deep the fractures had once run.

Nikolas paused mid-bite, then inclined his head. “I appreciate that,” he said simply.

“It changes things,” Asher added, looking toward Zafira. “Finding your mate. It’s like everything lines up. Like the noise finally quiets.”

Zafira leaned forward with a mischievous spark. “We marked each other last night,” she said. “Fully. It locked in instantly. So, yeah, it was real.”

“I’m so happy for you, Zaf,” Nikolas said, genuine warmth threading through his words. “I was worried, but I’ve learned not to get in the way of a mate bond.”

“I’m actually surprised you didn’t come barging in,” Zafira teased, elbowing Asher lightly.

Saphira leaned in with a sly grin and whispered, loud enough to be heard, “Between us, I think he wanted to.”

“I heard that,” Nikolas replied on cue, giving her hip a playful squeeze beneath the table.

Laughter spilled between them, light and unforced.

They lingered long after their plates were cleared, conversation flowing easily, tales from the past, little victories, soft jokes. Saphira felt it deep in her chest: this, this was how healing happened.

Eventually, Asher leaned back and stretched with a satisfied groan. “Game room? Few rounds of pool? Or are you two too tangled up in each other to aim properly?”

Nikolas tossed him a grin. “We’ll take that challenge. But don’t blame me when Saphira clears the table.”

Saphira tilted her head. “Me? You’re the competitive one. I just enjoy watching you almost win.”

Zafira laughed, already gathering her things. “Come on. Let’s see whose pride survives the scoreboard.”

In the game room, laughter echoed louder. The click of cue balls became a rhythm, paired with teasing commentary and ridiculous side bets.

Saphira bent over the table, eyeing her shot. Nikolas leaned close behind her, hand ghosting over her lower back. “Left a little,” he murmured. “Or don’t miss it entirely. That works too.”

“Oh, you’re funny now,” she replied, sinking the shot cleanly. “You sure you’re ready to lose with grace?”

Nikolas straightened and pointed his cue at Asher. “She cheats.”

“She’s just better,” Zafira called out from across the room, grinning. “Trust me, I’m trying not to take it personally.”

Hours passed like minutes. At one point, Nikolas attempted a ridiculous trick shot and missed spectacularly, sending the cue ball clattering into the pocket. Saphira couldn’t stop laughing, leaning into him as he groaned in mock defeat.

By the time they wandered back toward their rooms, the halls were quiet, the pack house settled into night.

Saphira reached for Nikolas’s hand and laced their fingers together. “We’ll pack another time,” she said softly, her voice still threaded with joy. “Tonight was… fun.”

Nikolas smiled, brushing a thumb across her knuckles. “It was.”

She glanced up at him, heart content. “We should do it again soon. All of us.”

He gave a soft nod. “Yeah. We will.”

And in the hush between footsteps, laughter, and memory, Saphira realised that this, this ordinary golden sliver of peace, was just as sacred as everything they were fighting for.

Nikolas pushed open the door to their room with a quiet sigh, one hand still loosely clasped in Saphira’s. The space felt warmer now, not just physically, but in the way memories had begun to settle between the walls. Soft lamplight spilled across the bed, casting gentle shadows that made the silence feel comforting rather than hollow.

Saphira stepped in after him, her fingers brushing against his wrist before sliding free. She looked around absently, half thinking about everything that had happened, half clinging to the calm that had followed.

Nikolas closed the door behind them and turned to her. His eyes found hers with ease, like they always did, and then he reached, pulling her into a kiss without a word.

She melted into it, hands sliding up his chest, heart steady now in the familiarity of his touch.

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips, soft and certain.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice quieter now, threaded with something slightly nervous.

She hesitated, then lifted a hand to his cheek, thumb brushing along the curve of his jaw. “Can I… mark you?”

Nikolas blinked. Surprise flickered briefly across his features, then softened into quiet delight. “I never even thought about it,” he said, a little breathless. “But yeah. I’d love that.”

Then he paused, expression tightening with a sheepish smile. “Though… maybe not like when I marked you.” He cleared his throat. “You passed out. Wasn’t exactly romantic.”

Saphira laughed under her breath, warmth rising in her chest. “It was dramatic.”

“Which is why,” Nikolas added, voice more serious now, “I want it to be… different for me. Pleasant. Intimate. You don’t have to rush. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

She stepped closer, her hands curling around his waist, fingers slipping under the edge of his shirt. “I am ready,” she said softly, eyes searching his. “I want this.”

Nikolas’s breath stilled.

Then she leaned in again, lips brushing his in a kiss that started gentle and deepened with certainty.

And this time, it wasn’t just a mark to claim. It was a moment to choose.