<b>CHAPTER </b><b>73 </b>
Saphira leaned forward slightly, her elbows braced against her knees, fingers woven tightly together as if to hold back the weight of everything crashing against her mind. The office was dimly lit, thete afternoon light casting long shadows across Niks‘ desk–but none long enough to hide <b>the </b>pieces falling into ce.
“Of course they lied,” she said, voice low and bitter. “But what I can’t figure out is why. What did they gain by keeping the truth buried?<b>” </b>
Jed shifted in his seat near the window, the corner of his mouth twitching as something unsettled brewed in his tone. “Unless your old pack is the one they’re working with,” he said. His voice wasn’t sure–but the thought clearly disturbed him. “Did your… Anastasia–did she say anything else?”
Saphira nodded faintly and drew in a breath, grounding herself before she began. “She told me everything.<b>” </b>Her voice grew quieter <b>as </b>she recounted it all- Anastasia meeting Lupus while he was traveling, thinking she’d found her chosen mate. How it all changed when she overheard him promising another life to someone else. Her panic. The spell ced by Selene. The birth. The lie.
By the time she finished, the room had quieted again, heavy with thought.
Niks straightened slowly. His eyes were dark with understanding. “The spell,” he murmured. “When my mother cast it–to hide your dragon nature… <b>They </b>must have thought you were a wolf.”
Saphira furrowed her brows, her eyes narrowing. “But then… why pretend I was dead?” The words felt strange in her mouth. Detached. Like she was talking about someone else.
Jed’s jaw clenched as he leaned forward. “Yeah. Why not just im you as theirs<b>?</b>”
Niks‘ answer came slowly, but the weight in his voice made Saphira’s stomach twist. “Because the Elders needed a pure–blooded pack,” he said. “Their golden example. If they knew you were a dragon…” He paused, jaw tightening. “They wouldn’t have let you live.”
Saphira sat back slightly, her breath catching. The theory made too much sense. “So they took me,” she murmured, “thinking <b>I </b><b>was </b><b>a </b>pure werewolf–Lupus legacy. But if they were seen with a dragon, it would’ve shattered the illusion.”
Jed nodded grimly. “And they told Anastasia you’d died to make sure she never came looking. So, she couldn’t affiliate with the pack. So, no one could connect the dots.<b>” </b>
“To make it all look perfect,” Saphira finished, the sting behind her eyes rising again. “The perfect, clean–blooded pack… all built on a lie.”
The quiet in Niks‘ office had thickened to something heavier than silence–understanding, maybe. Or the weight of tr Saphira sat with her hands sped between her knees<b>, </b>every part of her focused, braced, but her mind still processing t together.
hat couldn’t yet be acted on.
e of the theory they’d built
Jed leaned back in his chair with a sigh that broke the stillness. He rubbed his palm along his jaw, his brows drawn tight. “We need proof,” he said finally, voice rough with conviction. “Rumours and memory won’t be enough–not with the Elders<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Niks was still watching Saphira, quiet but not detached. <b>There </b>was heat behind his gaze, <b>a </b>sharpness that meant something had locked into ce in his head.
“It’s Damon,” he said, jaw tightening. “He knows something. He has to. The timing, the way he vanished… he was already on edge before Zafira was taken.
Saphira nodded slowly. “He’s part of it. Or close enough to smell the rot.”
She stood then, pacing to the edge of the desk as her fingers curled at her <b>sides</b><b>. </b>“If <b>we’re </b>going to find him, we need to look near Silvermoon.” Her throat tightened as she said it–just the name made her feel colder. “That’s where the ties <b>are </b>buried. I can feel it.”
“But that means scouting far,” <b>Jed </b>said, his voice more cautious now. “Flying deep into their territory. Days, maybe.”
Niks leaned forward as if to argue, but Jed raised a hand. “You can’t be away from the pack that long. Not now–not <b>with </b><b>the </b>Elders <b>watching </b><b>and </b>Damon still out there<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Saphira <b>saw </b>the tension flicker through Niks‘ shoulders–the way his <b>jaw </b>ticked again, as if <b>every </b>instinct in him wanted to be <b>the </b>one <b>to </b>go. To <b>barn </b>through the <b>sky </b>and tear answers from the treeline himself.
Jed gave him a look. “I’ll take two of our best scouts. We’ll go quiet, just reconnaissance.”
Saphira exhaled slowly, her pulse steadying. Her eyes met Niks‘–and for a moment, something passed between them that didn’t need to <b>be </b>spoken
After a long pause, he exhaled through his nose, the air sharp. “Fine,” he said quietly. “I want eyes everywhere, and I want them unseen.”
Jed nodded, though his gaze lingered on Niks. “I’ll put the n together,” he said, rising to his feet. “We’ll leave before sunrise.”
Niks gave a short nod of thanks, and Jed pped a hand gently on his shoulder before slipping out, the door clicking softly behind him.
The office quieted.
Saphira remained seated across from the desk, her gaze dropped to her hands, thumbs idly rubbing over her knuckles. She hadn’t said much since the theory unravelled, and now–without Jed in the room–she could feel Niks watching her again.
She braced herself.
“How are you holding up?” he asked gently, leaning back in his chair.
The question sat between them for a moment like fog. Saphira shifted in her seat, uncertain. She could lie-could say fine and smile and fold herself back up again–but the knot in her chest was too tight now. So instead, she exhaled.
“I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I feel… a thousand things at once. Happy. Sad. Confused. Angry.” Her voice dipped. “Like I’m watching my life shift around me, and I can’t catch up.”
Niks didn’t speak at first. He just listened, really listened, the way he always did when it mattered.
“I didn’t just find out where I came from,” she added, voice cracking slightly. “I found an entire world that was hidden from me. A mother. A brother. <b>A </b>lie that stole all of it. And I’m supposed to just–sort through that like it makes sense?”
Niks stood then, stepping around the desk. He moved slowly, carefully, like approaching a wounded creature unsure if it could still be touched. He lowered himself to sit beside her.
“You don’t have to sort through it alone,” he said quietly. “I’m here. Even if <b>I </b>wasn’t before when I should’ve been<b>.</b><b>” </b>
She looked at him, her throat tight.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, softer this time. “For what I said. For not trusting you. For letting my fear and anger <b>speak </b>louder than you did.”
Saphira swallowed hard, the lump in her throat pressing painfully upward.
“I forgive you,” she whispered. “But I need you to trust me next time. Really <b>trust </b>me.”
“<b>I </b>will,” he said, instantly.
She reached for his hand andced her fingers through his, anchoring herself in the warmth <b>of </b>his skin. “You’re mine,<b>” </b>she said quietly. “And I’m yours, There’s no one else. There never was<b>.</b>”
<b>He </b>leaned in just enough that his forehead rested lightly against hers.
“I know,” he breathed.