<b>CHAPTER </b><b>95 </b>
Niks stood at the head of the room like a sentinel before aing storm. His arms folded tightly across his chest, brows drawn in thought, but his voice -when it came–was clear and precise.
“We need to move fast,” he said, the weight behind his words catching in the air. “The teams tracking Damon and scouting the Elders–n your approach today. Don’t wait. Use the time, use each other.”
Themand didn’t re with panic–itnded with urgency, steady and controlled, like the tightening of a bowstring. Saphira felt it ripple through her spine, the sharp edge of momentum threading into her thoughts.
“This isn’t about isted effort,” Niks added, sweeping his gaze across the room. “Everyone contributes. Everyone counts.”
Saphira stepped forward, her hand brushing the edge of the long table as she leaned closer to a weathered map tucked beside a faded scouting kit. The lines were smudged, but the bones were still there. Familiar. She nced toward Zafira and Anastasia, then spoke clearly.
“Zafira, Anastasia and I can start with the maps,” she said. “I remember Silvermoon’s territory–their perimeter, patrol patterns, blind spots. If they’re using that ce as a base, we need it down to thest tree line.”
Zafira stepped up beside her, shoulders squared and eyes sharp. “I’ll help annotate the shifting lines,” she said. “Territories change faster than reputations- and I’ve seen them redraw borders without blinking.”
Anastasia hesitated a beat, her brows furrowing–but then she moved forward, quietly steady, reaching for one of the tablets on the counter Her fingers tapped instinctively across the screen, already pulling up the reference files. Saphira noted the tension in her jaw, but said nothing. Sh enough.
ng up. That’s
Jed lifted his chin, arms unfolding just slightly. “I might still have something,” he said. “Old blueprints. The Matchmaker facility. Iplete–but they’re a starting point.” His tone was gruff, but behind it was intent. He would find something.
Saphira’s thoughts sparked. If the Matchmaker’s involved, there can’t be blind spots. One w–one missed hallway–and they’ll own us from the inside.
Asher moved forward, slower than the rest, fingers loosely sped in front of him. “Back when I was looking for Anastasia,” he said, voice deliberate, “I came across a few suspected Elder locations. I’ll try to map what I remember. ces they used to disappear into.”
Across the room, Anastasia looked up sharply. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them–a sh of old pain, shadowed but not gone. No usation. No anger. Just memory.
She gave a faint nod.
He nodded back.
Saphira watched them–a flicker of emotion threading through her–but didn’t speak. Later, she thought. When the air’s not so thick with war.
Niks pped once, not loud, but enough to pull them back in.
“Good,” he said, gaze circling the room. “Meet in your teams. Sort your maps, your routes, your strategy. Build the bones–and we’ll stitch it together. A few hours. Then we reconvene and lock the timeline<b>.</b><b>” </b>
No hesitation followed–just motion. Chairs scraped. Boots shifted<b>. </b>Conversations sparked as bodies turned into clusters and groups began to form.
Saphira felt something inside her stir. Not fear.
Purpose.
The kind that builds in the lungs like wind before flight. And they had just begun to rise.
<b>The </b>door clicked shut behind Zafira and Anastasia, leaving the room steeped in quiet–no longer tense, just hushed with intent, Saphira’s breath <b>slipped </b><b>out </b>slowly, shoulders loosening as thest echo of footfalls faded down the hall.
<b>She </b><b>turned </b><b>toward </b><b>the </b>table, only to find Niks already there<b>, </b><b>sleeves </b>pushed up <b>as </b><b>he </bid out nk paper <b>in </b>neat rows<b>. </b>Pens were <b>arranged </b><b>like </b><b>tools </b><b>of </b><b>war</b><b>–</b><b>ready </b><b>and </b><b>exact</b>. Her gaze warmed. Of course he’d know what she <i>needed </i><b><i>before </i></b>she <i>asked</i>.
<b>“</b>You <b>read </b>my mind,” she murmured, stepping closer, fingertips grazing the table’s edge..
Niks looked up, meeting her eyes with something quiet and proud in his expression. “You were amazing,” he said softly. “The way you stepped in for Zafira and Anastasia? Thoughtful. Precise. You didn’t hesitate.”
Saphira gave a small shake of her head and eased into the nearest chair, the wood cool beneath her fingers. “It made sense. Especially while I’m still learning. We all have different strengths. They just needed a space where theirs could fit.”
He moved beside her, brushing the edge of her shoulder as he leaned down and ced a fresh sheet in front of her. “You didn’t just lead,” he said, his voice low, “you included. That makes all the difference.”
Her hand hovered over the page, pen uncapped, not yet ready to draw. “I know we don’t have time to sit with this,” she said quietly, “but I’m worried. About what we don’t see. About what could go wrong.”
Niks didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped behind her and wrapped both arms around her, firm and steady. His cheek brushed hers as he lowered his head, the warmth of him grounding the flicker of doubt in her chest.
“I’m worried too,” he admitted. “But between us? I believe we’ve got what it takes. This pack’s stronger than most give it credit for. And you–you’re stronger than you realise.”
Saphira closed her eyes, leaning into him for just a moment. The tension in her spine loosened with the quiet reassurance of his heartbeat beneath her hand.
“I hope you’re right.”
Niks shifted, tilting her chin until their eyes met. His gaze held something fierce and unwavering. “With you by my side, I feel invinci whispered. “I won’t let us lose. I won’t lose you.”
Saphira raised one brow, a smile curving through the heaviness<b>. </b>“You better mean that.”
“Always,” he said, and kissed her–soft, slow, a promiseced in fire.
mate,” he
When they pulled apart, she settled back in her chair, the pen steady in her grip now. Her brow furrowed as she began to sketch, lines forming from memory: the Silvermoon perimeter, the river bend, the patrol routes, known, blind spots. Each stroke carved with purpose.
Beside her, Niks gathered his own sheets. His lines were sharper<b>, </b>clustered like units in motion–every angle calcted. The beginning of a battle n.
Saphira nced sideways, catching his focus. He looked up at the same time, and their gazes met–no words, just a shared nod.
Then silence returned.
Not empty. Full. Two minds. One mission.
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