The Matchmaker (by Sophie Smith) novel Chapter 119

CHAPTER 119

Saphira brushed the last crumb from her plate with the edge of her thumb, then stacked it atop Nikolas’s with deliberate care. Her fingers lingered on the rim for a breath longer than necessary before she reached for the basket, the woven handle cool against her palm.

Nikolas was folding the napkin with slow precision, each crease smoothed.

They stepped out together, the door clicking shut behind them. The corridor opened wide, stone cool beneath their boots. Their hands found each other instinctively, fingers lacing with the ease of repetition. Saphira’s thumb brushed the back of his hand once, absently.

The morning air met them like a balm–crisp, edged with the scent of dew and distant pine. Sunlight spilled across the path in long golden streaks, casting their shadows ahead like quiet sentinels. As they walked, the hum of pack life rose around them: laughter near the training yard, murmuring strategy by the forest edge.

Saphira nodded to a witch she recognized, her fingers lifting in a subtle greeting. A young wolf shifter bowed his head respectfully as they passed. She was quickly learning that the Arrax Pack had always been a mosaic–wolves, witches, dragons, and more. Not just coexistence. Cohesion. She felt it in every glance, every shared glance of trust. This was what she fought for.

Near the outer wall, a cluster of warriors stood in formation, gear strapped tight, eyes scanning the horizon. Nikolas slowed, his hand slipping from hers with a gentle squeeze before he stepped forward.

“How are patrols?” he asked, voice low but firm. “Anything suspicious?”

Cael, a seasoned wolf with a scar running from temple to jaw, shook his head. “Nothing yet. But we’re increasing

to be sure.”

numbers

Saphira moved beside Nikolas, arms loose at her sides but her stance shifting subtly–more alert. “Do we have the capacity for that?” Her voice was calm, but her mind was already calculating. Resources. Training. Risk.

Cael nodded. “We’re accelerating sessions for volunteers. Anyone who wants to be a warrior. But no one goes out without a

seasoned lead.”

She studied his face, eyes narrowing slightly. His posture was confident, not defensive. No flicker of doubt. They were adapting. Fast. Not reckless–responsive. She exhaled through her nose and nodded. “Good. That’s smart.”

Nikolas clapped Cael’s shoulder, the gesture firm but warm. “I’ll stop by the training grounds soon. For now, I’ll let you

get on.”

They resumed their walk, the path narrowing as it wound through tall grass and scattered trees. When they arrived, she paused at the edge, arms crossing loosely over her chest. Her gaze swept the open space, then landed on Nikolas. “So… how does this work? With control?”

He stepped into the center, turning to face her as sunlight caught the edges of his hair. “We start by giving Vaelora

control.”

She blinked, brows lifting. “How? I only did that before because my emotions were so high.”

Nikolas’s mouth curved into a half–smirk. “Then you need to get wound up.”

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CHAPTER 119

Her arms tightened across her chest, fingers digging into her sleeves. “And how do I get control back?”

He stepped closer, his voice softening. “Vorthar will help if needed. But you need to focus. I’ll walk you through some techniques before we begin.”

Saphira nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the center of the clearing. Vaelora was part of her. But part wasn’t the same as whole. Today, she’d have to let go–and trust she could return.

Saphira stood in the centre of the clearing, the wind tugging gently at her hair. The grass swayed around her ankles, and the trees whispered in the distance. Nikolas paced a slow circle around her, his voice calm but deliberate.

“There are a few ways to regain control,” he said, stopping in front of her. “Depending on how strong your bond is with Vaclora, some will work better than others.”

Saphira nodded, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She trusted Vaclora–but trust wasn’t the same as control.

“First,” Nikolas continued, “you ask. Just ask her to give it back. If she’s calm, she might listen.”

Saphira tilted her head slightly. “And if she doesn’t?”

“Then you use your consciousness,” he said. “You pull control back. Like tugging a thread through a knot.”

She nodded again, slower this time. That sounded doable. Maybe.

“If that fails,” Nikolas said, stepping closer, “you demand it. And if even that doesn’t work… you force it.”

Saphira’s brows drew together. “Force it? How?”

Nikolas’s gaze held hers, steady and unwavering. “Vaelora is part of you. But your human self–your core–is stronger. Not physically, but internally. You just need to find the handle. The place inside you where your will is anchored.”

Saphira swallowed, her throat tight. Find the handle. Easier said than done. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll try.”

Nikolas nodded, then gestured to the space around them. “Start by thinking of Ruby. Think of everything she did. Everything she was.”

Saphira closed her eyes, letting the memories rise. Ruby’s voice. Her manipulation. The way she twisted trust into fear. The pack house. The whispers. The way Saphira had doubted herself–had questioned her instincts.

It didn’t take long.

Her chest tightened, heat rising in her throat. Her fingers curled into fists. Stars, it’s all still there. Just beneath the surface.

She opened her eyes, breath sharp. “I feel like I’m going to burst. Now what?”

Nikolas’s voice was low. “Release control. Just like before. Call Vaelora forward.”

Saphira nodded, closing her eyes again. She reached inward, past the heat, past the ache, to the place where Vaccora waited. ‘Come forward,‘ she whispered in her mind. ‘Take it.‘

The shift came fast.

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Her body stretched, bones reshaping, fire licking beneath her skin. When she opened her eyes again, she was no lon looking through her own. Vaclora had taken control.

And the block was there.

Thick. Imposing. A wall between her and the reins.

Vaelora roared, wings flaring wide, claws digging into the earth. She lashed out, tail whipping through the air. Saphira could feel it all–see through her dragon’s eyes–but she couldn’t steer. Just like before.

Nikolas had shifted too. Vorthar stood across the clearing, massive and coiled, his eyes locked on her. Ready.

Saphira remembered the steps. Ask first.

She tried. ‘Vaelora, give it back.‘

Nothing.

She tried again. ‘Please. Let me in.‘

The block pulsed stronger, pressing her further out. She’s not listening.

Before she could move to step two, Vaelora launched into the air, wings slicing through the sky. Saphira’s heart leapt–No,

not yet-

But Vorthar was faster.

He surged upward, intercepting her mid–flight, his body curling around hers in a controlled spiral. The force of his presence pressed against Vaelora’s fury, and something shifted. The block cracked.

Control slipped back into Saphira’s grasp like a sudden breath.

She shifted down, knees hitting the earth, breath ragged. Her hands trembled, her heart pounding. He did it. Somehow. The mate bond?

Nikolas was beside her in seconds, his hand on her back.

Saphira looked up, eyes wide. “I wasn’t ready.”

He smiled softly. “You were. You just didn’t know where to reach.”