The Matchmaker (by Sophie Smith) novel Chapter 93

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CHAPTER 93

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains in soft bands, warm and quiet against the sheets. Saphira lay curled beneath the blanket, the air still tinged with sleep, her fingers absently tracing slow patterns along Nikolas’s arm where it rested around her waist.

Nikolas shifted behind her, breath stirring the edge of her hair. “Did you enjoy last night?” he asked, voice rough from sleep. “Especially… Anastasia?”

Saphira smiled, her eyes still half–lidded. “Yeah. It was good. Natural, I guess. Like we weren’t all tiptoeing around something complicated for once.”

She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. “I liked the atmosphere. It felt… relaxed. Like there weren’t a hundred things looming over our heads for

once.”

Nikolas tucked her hair behind her ear, gaze lingering. “It was nice,” he murmured, then leaned in to press a brief kiss to her forehead. “You seemed more grounded. You all did.”

Before Saphira could respond, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Nikolas shifted, reaching for it with a groggy sigh. “It’s Jed,” he said after a glance. He slid upright, pressing the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

Saphira watched him, sitting up against the headboard as she pulled the blanket around her knees. His expression hardened s focused.

as he listened, eyes

“Alright,” Nikolas said after a moment. “I’ll get everyone together. We’ll do the meeting today with anyone necessary.”

He hung up and turned to her, already shifting into his more alert posture. “Jed picked up something new from the recording device. He didn’t say much over the phone, but it sounds like it’s important.”

“Do you need help?” Saphira asked, voice quiet but sure.

Nikolas shook his head, sliding out of bed to grab a shirt. “Not with the coordination, no. But I want you with me when I meet Jed and Jasper. Before the full meeting.”

Her brows lifted. “Why?”

He glanced back at her, his voice steady. “So you have the full story. No gaps. You’ve earned that.”

Saphira felt the weight of those words settle into her chest, not as a burden but as validation. She pulled back the covers and stood, already reaching for her clothes. “Then let’s go.”

The meeting room greeted them with an eerie hush, the soft hum of electronics barely noticeable over the growing tension humming beneath Saphira’s skin. The space felt smaller today–more intimate, more volatile. She followed Nikolas through the door, his presence solid beside her, grounding and sharp. Across the room, Jasper lounged on one of the leather sofas, legs stretched out and fingers interlaced, though his relaxed pose didn’t fool her; his eyes were alert, watching everything. Jed stood against the far wall, arms folded across his chest, shoulders square like he was waiting for something heavy to land.

Nikolas tilted his head toward the sofa, fingers grazing Saphira’s hand in a quiet gesture of reassurance before he sank down next to her. She perched beside him, posture straight despite the cushion’s pull. Her gaze swept the room. The choice to gather around the sofas instead of the table was deliberate. There was something about the setting–closer, less formal–that hinted at the gravity they hadn’t named yet.

Jasper leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His voice came low and clipped. “The recordings have been quiet. Days of silence. Then last night, everything changed.”

Saphira’s pulse kicked. Her hand tightened lightly around the edge of the cushion.

“We picked up a clip,” he continued. “Damon. Meeting with the Alpha and Lupus from Silvermoon. He wasn’t hiding. No cloak, no hesitation.”

Jed added, “They want him to find them a witch. Not just any witch–one strong enough to bind them to a cause.”

Saphira’s brow furrowed. Her throat tightened as the pieces shuffled into place. “Why Damon, though? I thought he was just a werewolf. Is it because of his

time here? Mixed blood?”

Jed stepped closer, his stance shifting as he nodded, “That’s part of it. He knows both sides of the line. Can speak languages most don’t hear. But there’s

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CHAPTER 93

more–he’s part witch. Dormant lineage. Not visible unless you’re looking.”

Saphira’s breath caught. That explains the trust. And suddenly, her mind flashed through every interaction with him—a layer always beneath the surface,

never named.

Jasper scoffed. “Delusional,” he muttered. “He genuinely believes he’ll be welcomed into their ranks.”

Saphira felt the realization surge up like a wave breaking against her ribs. Of course they wouldn’t keep him. She opened her mouth–but Nikolas beat her to

1. it.

“He doesn’t realise they’ll toss him aside, too,” he said flatly, leaning forward. “To them, he’s a mutt. Useful until he’s not. He doesn’t see it.”

Saphira’s hands curled against her knees, knuckles pale against fabric. The air around her felt heavier now, charged. The lines were moving again–and the fractures beneath their world felt closer than ever.

Nikolas rose, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to loosen something that had settled too deep. His jaw was set now, gaze sweeping the room with determined clarity.

“We need the pack,” he said. “Key people. All our warriors. Everyone who can stand a line.”

Saphira lifted her eyes to him. Her chest tightened–not with fear, but the shift of responsibility. No more sidelines.

“We’ll put a plan in motion,” Nikolas continued. “But before that–we make this pack safe. If the Elders move, this house will be

Jed and Jasper straightened. No questions. No doubts. Their expressions hardened into purpose.

“Get everyone,” Nikolas said, nodding once. “Bring them here. No delay.”

The door clicked behind them as they left, silence crawling back in. It wasn’t peace–it was anticipation.

Saphira turned to Nikolas, voice low. “Are you ready?”

He didn’t speak right away. Just looked ahead, jaw tight, then down at her–his eyes grounding hers.

“Once we start,” she murmured, “there’s no undoing it.”

we protect it.”

Nikolas stepped close, brushing his fingers against her arm gently. “We don’t have a choice,” he said, voice wrapped in steel. “I won’t let them dominate every supernatural. Especially not with what they’re reaching for–with the Matchmaker under their thumb?”

His eyes locked with hers–nothing soft now, only certainty.

And inside Saphira, something locked into place too. The knowing. The fire.

They weren’t just preparing.

They were rising. And the pack would rise with them.

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