The Matchmaker (by Sophie Smith) novel Chapter 121

The Matchmaker

CHAPTER 121

The air in the cell corridor clung to her skin like damp cloth–colder than the rest of the compound, thick with the scent of mildew and the faint metallic tang of confinement. Saphira stepped in beside Nikolas, her boots striking the stone floor with deliberate rhythm, each echo a reminder of the silence pressing in around them. The walls felt too close, as if the corridor itself was holding its breath.

She flexed her fingers once, then stilled them at her sides. Stay sharp. Stay unreadable.

They passed Ruby’s cell first.

Ruby sat cross–legged on the bed, spine straight, hands resting loosely on her knees. Her smile was too still, too precise–like a blade laid out on velvet. Her gaze found Saphira instantly,

unblinking, and held it with quiet menace.

Saphira didn’t flinch, but her breath hitched in her chest. She’s waiting for me to crack. To twitch. To show a reaction. Her shoulders rolled back instinctively, chin lifting a fraction. She kept her eyes forward, refusing to meet Ruby’s stare again. Not today.

The prickle at the base of her neck sharpened as they passed, but she didn’t look back. Nikolas didn’t glance at Ruby either–his stride never faltered; his focus already locked on the next

cell.

Damon sat inside, elbows braced on his knees, fingers laced loosely together. His head tilted slightly, like he was sizing them up for sport. That same smile–amused, unreadable–curved his lips, and Saphira felt her stomach tighten.

Same look. Same game. Different player.

Nikolas stepped forward, his voice clipped and cold. “What do you want?”

Damon didn’t answer. He stretched slowly, arms overhead, joints cracking in the quiet. Then he leaned back against the wall, legs extended, posture lazy. “Lovely weather today, isn’t it?” he drawled. “The pack seems lively. I heard the training grounds are busier than ever.”

Saphira’s jaw locked. Her gaze flicked to his fingers–tapping a slow rhythm against his thigh. He’s stalling. Testing boundaries. Watching us squirm. Her nails bit into her palms. He thinks this

is a game.

Nikolas’s patience snapped. He slammed his palm against the cell door, the sound sharp and jarring. “This isn’t small talk. Speak.”

1/4

CHAPTER 121

Damon’s smile widened, slow and deliberate. “How’s Talia? Sam? Asher?” His voice was casual, but the words landed like a slap. “You haven’t heard from them yet?”

Saphira froze.

Nikolas did too.

Her heart stuttered, then thudded hard against her ribs. No one outside the pack should know.

No one.

She reached out through the bond, her thoughts sharp and urgent. “How does he know it was those three? That we’re waiting to hear from them?!”

Nikolas’s reply came fast, clipped with unease. “I don’t know. But I don’t like it.”

He stepped closer to the bars, his voice low and dangerous. “What do you mean?”

Damon chuckled, the sound low and grating, like gravel dragged across stone. “Maybe you should check in on them.” He turned his back to them, shoulders relaxed, head tilted just enough to show he was still listening. “Just a thought.”

He didn’t look back. But the laughter didn’t stop.

From the next cell, Ruby’s laugh joined his–soft, mocking, a thread of sound that curled around Saphira’s spine like smoke.

Her stomach twisted. She met Nikolas’s gaze, and in that moment, no words passed between

them. They didn’t need to.

They turned and left the cells, their footsteps faster now, the corridor behind them echoing with–laughter that didn’t belong–and the weight of a threat neither of them could yet name.

Saphira slammed through the cell doors, the clang of metal echoing behind her like a warning bell. Her boots struck the stone floor with clipped precision, each step a declaration of urgency. The corridor’s cold bit at her cheeks, but it was the frost blooming in her chest that made her breath catch. Too quiet, Too still. Something’s shifted.

Nikolas was a shadow at her back, his jaw locked, eyes already scanning the compound like he expected it to erupt.

“What do we do?” she asked, her voice low, tight with restraint. Her fingers flexed at her sides, itching for direction.

Nikolas didn’t miss a beat. “We call a meeting. I want Raven to bring a few of her strongest

2/4

CHAPTER 121

witches.”

Saphira nodded sharply, already pivoting. No time to unravel Damon’s threads. No time to bleed over what’s been lost. Just move.

They sprinted toward the pack house, wind clawing at her hair, tugging strands loose from her braid. Her heart thudded against her ribs, not from exertion–but from the weight of what she couldn’t yet name. Nikolas kept pace beside her, silent, but she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat.

The heavy door creaked open as they reached it, and inside, Jed and Raven were descending the stairs, mid–conversation. Raven’s hand gestured midair, her voice low, but both froze as

Nikolas’s voice rang out.

“Jed!”

They turned instantly. Raven’s brows drew together, her steps faltering. Jed straightened, his gaze sharpening as it landed on Saphira’s face.

Raven stepped forward, her tone clipped. “What’s wrong?”

Nikolas didn’t hesitate. “We need an urgent meeting. Can you gather a few of your strongest

witches?”

Raven’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “I’ll go now.”

The air thickened, charged like the moment before a storm breaks. Even the walls seemed to

lean in, listening.

“I’ll call Jasper back from warrior training,” Jed said, already reaching for his comm crystal.

Saphira’s fingers flew across her device, her thumb trembling slightly as she typed. “I’ve messaged Finn, Amara, and Anastasia,” she said, breath shallow. “Just finishing a message to

Zafira,”

Raven turned, her cloak flaring behind her as she strode off, urgency in every step. Saphira watched her disappear, then turned toward the office, her boots thudding against the wood floors.

Jed’s voice was low and clipped as he spoke into the crystal. “Get back to the pack house.

Now.”

Inside the office, Saphira moved to the table and pressed her palm flat against the surface. The

3/4

CHAPTER 121

wood was cool beneath her skin, but her thoughts were burning.

She looked up suddenly. “We need to keep Zafira and possibly Jasper calm,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “We can’t let them do anything rash.”

Nikolas’s brows lifted, then drew together. “Especially Zafira. She and Asher are newly mated. That bond will cloud her judgment.”

Saphira nodded, her throat tightening. “And she already feels like something’s wrong. That’s going to hit hard.”

The door creaked open.

Finn and Amara entered first, their expressions tight with confusion. Amara’s hand found Finn’s arm instinctively, her eyes flicking between Saphira and Nikolas.

Then came Anastasia and Zafira. Zafira’s gaze swept the room, her shoulders squared, but tension coiled in her stance. She knows. She just doesn’t know what.

Jasper followed, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were sharp–already calculating.

Finally, Raven returned, three witches trailing behind her. Their robes shimmered faintly, marked with sigils Saphira didn’t recognize. Power pulsed around them, quiet but undeniable.

Saphira straightened, her gaze sweeping the room, her spine rigid with resolve. Whatever Damon’s done, whatever he’s hiding–this is where it begins.

Chapter Comments

LIKE

POST COMMENT NOW

SHARE