The Matchmaker (by Sophie Smith) novel Chapter 91

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The Matchmaker

CHAPTER 91

The wind shifted subtly as the clearing bushed again, tension replaced with steady focus. Saphira stood facing Nikolas, heart thudding hard and dah ready to step past the edge of comfort. Ifer dragon stirred beneath her skin coiled, waiting.

Nikolas gave her a quiet nod.

Shift.

Heat rushed through her limbs, wings unfurling as bone stretched and muscle reformed. Her feet hit the earth with a heavy, clawed thud. ameke curled from her nostrils as her tail flicked once, testing the weight of her frame. Across from her, Nikolas had already shifted his dragon larger, darker, more composed but unmistakably gentle in the tilt of his snout as he approached.

He nudged her right shoulder with his nose, directing her into a low defensive stance. Saphira adjusted, spreading her hind legs apart and epoching. Het wings tilted slightly, catching the sun.

Nikolas moved back, then lunged–not hard, just fast. His swipe came low and deliberate, his left claw curling toward her flank.

Saphira flinched and rose too soon, catching air instead of balance.

Nikolás pulled back with a huff, then mimicked the block motion: wings folded inward, claws braced, spine coiled.

She tried again, clumsy but determined–wing snapping inward to shield, claws sliding across the dirt for traction.

Their dragons circled, paced. Every movement Nikolas made was controlled: a feint, a/pivot, a sudden crouch that tested her instincts. Saphira followed, sometimes late, sometimes wide, often catching the motion after it happened.

They couldn’t speak–not like they normally could–but she felt him through the bond, steady and present. When she faltered, he slowed. When she hesitated, he demonstrated again. Nudges. Eye contact. The rhythm of shared trust.

Saphira attempted a counter–strike–claws lifted, wings tucked–and missed the angle entirely, nearly stumbling sideways.

She growled under her breath, frustrated.

Nikolas responded by crouching low and nudging her flank with his snout again, prompting her to mirror the position. A reminder: focus on form before force.

They practiced for nearly an hour–blocks, low strikes, tail sweeps. And while confusion tangled her momentum more than once, every glance from him pulled her back to centre.

The clearing was quieting. The rhythm of sparring was slowing, their motions less about force now and more about finesse. Saphira ducked beneath Nikolas’s clawed sweep, wings tucking instinctively as she countered with a low brush of her own–near perfect form. She landed lightly, dust curling around her talons. Her heart thundered in her chest, adrenaline laced through every beat, but it wasn’t chaotic anymore. It was aligned. Balanced.

I think I’m getting this, she thought, breath pulsing steady as Vaelora shifted her weight inside her. I just wish I could talk.

It came unfiltered–emotion and intent merging. The longing laced in adrenaline, fierce and open–and something clicked.

Nikolas’s dragon snapped his head around with a sharp jolt, wings flaring briefly as he stared at her. Confusion rippled across his expression–the lift of his scaled brow ridge, the twitch at the edge of his jaw.

‘Did you just speak to me?‘ His voice landed in her head with stunning clarity. Deep. Familiar. Echoed in dragon–tone.

Saphira froze. Her tail flicked once, sharp and startled. ‘Yes‘. The thought burst from her–accidental, startled, but unmistakable.

Nikolas’s dragon blinked slowly, his stance lowering slightly. Then–‘You did it again. His tone was gentler now, wonder shading the edges of it.

He moved forward with deliberate care, claws brushing through the grass. His form–larger and more controlled–approached hers slowly, unthreatening. His snout reached out and nudged beneath her jaw, then slid along her neck in a slow, affectionate rub.

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CHAPTER 91

Saphira’s wings relaxed instinctively. Her heart thudded once, Twice, And then the tension began to chl- Vaetors responded without hesitation & lon bodied part rumbled through her, deep and resonant.

from deep inside, not her own, but shared. Familiar. And warm.

The sensation was overwhelming–like the dragon

inside her wasn’t

just content, but joyful. Home.

She felt the pull before she understood it–an emotional

Vaelora leaned into Nikolas’s dragon, their necks pressing

And then, clear as breath, Saphira heard her dragon’s voice

gether in a quiet show of trust. Affection.

first time.

Vorthar.

Nikolas’s dragon stilled, every muscle softening.

Vaelora purred again–louder now. She had learned his name.

Saphira closed her eyes, the rush of warmth blooming behind her ribs like wildfire.

She didn’t just hear her dragon now. She felt her. And they were no longer two

halves walking separate paths.

The last breath of wind from their spar cooled across Saphira’s scales as the moment held–quiet and charged. Nikolas’s dragon took a slow step back, head dipping once in silent signal. She watched as the shift pulled through him, wings folding inward, dark limbs folding and softening until his human form emerged with familiar ease. He straightened, chest rising with exertion, and met her gaze.

She followed, the transformation uncoiling through her body like smoke. Heat retreated. Bone realigned. Her claws dug once more into earth before drawing back into skin, and in a heartbeat, she stood again–bare feet brushing grass, braid tumbling loose down her shoulder. Her breath came steady, heart still thundering with everything they’d uncovered.

Before she could speak, Nikolas stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. No hesitation. His arms wrapped around her back, hand resting between her shoulder blades, anchoring her fully in his embrace.

He dipped his head, lips grazing her temple as he whispered, “Our dragons have connected fully. We should be able to mind–link completely now. Even in human form.”

Saphira stilled against him, something electric rippling through her–soft and potent. She looked up, her expression slightly dazed by the depth of what she was feeling. Could they really…?

She didn’t speak aloud. She thought it.

I think they have.‘

Nikolas blinked once–then his smile deepened, that familiar glint tugging at the edge of his mouth. “This is going to be so much easier now,‘ he said in her mind, his tone playful. And fun.‘ He added the wink with enough amusement to make her chest flutter.

Saphira let out a quiet laugh, tilting her head against his shoulder.

connection hummed beneath the surface–new, raw, but right.

Across the clearing, Jed called out, voice cutting through the quiet with his usual tone of practicality. “Are you two done for the day, or do we need to clear the arena for round two?”

Nikolas lifted his head and shot Jed a dry look. “Depends. You offering yourself as a sparring partner?”

Jed held up both hands in mock defence.”I like my limbs where they are.”

Saphira smiled, the bond still echoing softly in her chest as she stepped back–but only far enough to loop her arm through Nikolas’s.

She wasn’t just learning to fight anymore. She was learning to speak with every part of herself. And someone finally heard her.