The Matchmaker (by Sophie Smith) novel Chapter 69

CHAPTER 69

The clearing still throbbed with the tension that hadn’t quite left–not after the roaring, the rage, and the truth that had cracked the ground beneath Saphira’s feet. The scent of scorched soil lingered in the air. Her pulse echoed in her ears, but it wasn’t from fear anymore. Not exactly.

Across from her, Asher rubbed at his throat, wincing slightly, though his posture remained strong. His voice, roughened but steady, carried across the space like something fragile and raw. “My dragon… he recognised yours. Right away.”

Saphira blinked, her body still oddly tense, as though part of her hadn’t caught up with what was happening. She felt Vaelora stir inside–alert but calm.

“He knew you were blood,” Asher said more gently this time, his gaze locking onto hers. “He called you his… little sister.”

The words sat like stone in her stomach, heavy and disorienting. Saphira’s lips parted, but nothing came out. The silence roared louder than before. A sister.

Behind her, Nikolas shifted awkwardly, his boot catching slightly on the grass as he took a single step forward–then stopped. His entire posture had changed, coiled energy now replaced with something like shame and uncertainty.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, coarse like gravel. “To both of you.”

He flicked a glance toward Asher, then back to Saphira, but couldn’t quite hold her gaze. “My dragon’s settled now. He… can feel it too. The bloodline. It’s

the same.”

She stared at him for a beat, taking in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hand twitched like he wanted to reach for her but didn’t know how after everything.

It didn’t undo what happened, but part of her understood–he had been scared. And jealousy had made it worse.

Her gaze shifted back to Asher. “Do you know if it’s our mother? Or… father?”

Asher’s brow furrowed, and his eyes dropped for a second in thought. Then he gave a slow nod. “It’d have to be our mum. My dad died when I was still a baby–long before you were born.”

Saphira’s stomach tightened.

“I knew my father,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “He was a werewolf… part of the pack I grew up in. But my mother-”

She paused, blinking at the sudden sting in her eyes. “I never knew who she was. No name. No stories. It was like… like she was a shadow in the background of my life.”

“I don’t know what happened with you,” Asher said gently. “Not the circumstances. Not why you were hidden away.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. His voice softened again. “But I think it’s time we talk to her. My-” He caught himself. “Our mum. She’ll have the answers.”

The word our echoed between them like a heartbeat. Saphira’s own felt unsteady, too fast, like her body was trying to understand what her mind couldn’t piece together yet.

She nodded slowly, arms tightening around herself.

Her life hadn’t just shifted. It had fractured.

The walk back to the hospital was quiet. The kind of quiet that came after a storm–when the air still buzzed with what had been, but no one could quit

name what came next.

Saphira walked with Asher at her side, her thoughts tangled around every step. The new weight of truth pressed against her chest: brother. Every glance in his direction felt like looking at a stranger and a mirror all at once.

Nikolas, just a few steps behind, hadn’t said a word since the clearing. His usual confident stride was slower, more careful. Guilt clung to him in a way Saphira had never seen before–like it didn’t quite fit, but he didn’t know how to shake it loose.

When they reached the doors, Nikolas held back. His hand reached gently for Saphira’s arm, and she turned, startled to find him so close. Asher gave

1/2

CHAPTER 69

subtle nod and stepped ahead, giving them space.

Nikolas kept his gaze low for a beat, then finally met her eyes. She could see the storm still fading behind them.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, the words heavier than usual. “For… all of it. For not trusting you. For what I did back there.”

Saphira didn’t respond–not yet. She just watched him, letting the apology sink in without softening the ache in her chest.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right,” he continued, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he fought something–shame, maybe. “But right now, you need to be with your family. Figure this out. Really see where it leads.”

He stepped back a little, his hands sliding into his pockets in that tense way he did when he didn’t know what to do with them. “If you need me–call. I’ll be with Zafira the rest of the day.”

Saphira nodded slowly. Her throat was too tight to offer much more.

And then he was gone, disappearing through a separate hallway with that quiet, careful gait that told her the conversation weighed just as heavily on him.

She turned back toward the elevator and found Asher waiting just beyond the glass doors. He didn’t press or speak–just walked beside her again when she approached.

When they reached Anastasia’s room, Saphira’s heart thumped a little harder. Her palm hovered over the handle before she finally pushed the door open.

отрас

Inside, Anastasia looked up from her book, her expression lighting with calm surprise. “You’re both back already,” she said warmly. “Didn’t expect to see you both again today.”

Neither Saphira nor Asher replied.

Anastasia’s smile faltered ever so slightly, her gaze narrowing as she scanned their faces. “What’s wrong?”

Asher stepped forward slowly, his voice low but steady. “Why didn’t you ever tell me I had a sister?”

Anastasia’s eyes widened.

She looked immediately to Saphira–like something had clicked before she even had time to doubt it. Her breath caught as she took her in–really looked. The hair. The jawline. The eyes, maybe.

And then–Saphira felt it.

Something in the room shifted.

A quiet, unfamiliar recognition curled through the air like a breeze that made the skin rise along her arms. Anastasia’s hand moved to her mouth. Her eyes shimmered.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh stars, it’s you.”

Saphira’s hands clenched at her sides, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Could only stare.

She didn’t know what this would mean. What it would undo. What it might finally begin.

Chapter Comments