<b>CHAPTER </b><b>118 </b>
Morning light spilled through the windows in soft golden streaks, casting a warm glow across the stone floors and dappling the edge of the rug like scattered embers. Saphira stood at the mirror, brushing out thest damp strands of her hair, the bristles tugging gently as she worked <b>through </b><b>a </b>
knot.
Behind her, Niks fastened the buttons on his shirt, his movements calm, deliberate. The quiet rhythm of fabric and fingers, like the steady beat of a drum before battle.
“I’ll try to contact Asher, Talia, and Sam for an update,” he said, ncing toward her with that familiar furrow between his brows. “As long as nothing urgentes up, we’ll train–focus on
control.”
Saphira nodded, tying her hair back with a leather cord, fingers looping with practiced ease. “Sounds good. I’ll grab us some food while you contact them.” Her voice was even<b>, </b>but her stomach tightened at the mention of Asher. <i>Please </i><i>let </i><i>him </i><i>answer </i><i>and </i><i>have </i><i>a </i>good <i>update</i><i>. </i>
They left the room together, fingersced, the quiet intimacy of the morning wrapping around them like a shared secret. At the bottom of the stairs, they paused. Niks leaned in and kissed her temple, his breath warm against her skin. She squeezed his hand, reluctant to let go.
As she walked through the main hall, the scent of pine and old stone filled her lungs. A few pack
members passed by–wolves, vampires and witches alike, some chatting in pairs, others heading out for patrol. One young shifter adjusted the strap of his de harness while his witch partner murmured something about the weather wards.
Silvermoon had always been built on trust and shared purpose. It was what made them different. What made them strong. <i>And </i><i>what </i>made <i>betrayal </i><i>sting </i><i>deeper</i>, she thought, brushing the thought
away.
“Morning,” Saphira said with a soft smile, nodding to the pair. The witch gave a small wave, and the shifter dipped his head respectfully. Their eyes lingered on her–not out of obligation<b>, </b>but recognition. She was one of them. Not just Niks’s mate<b>, </b>but a protector in her own right.
In the dining room, the scent of roasted vegetables and fresh bread wrapped around her like nket. Saphira spotted Zafira in line, her posture slightly slouched<b>, </b>fingers absently tapping the edge of her tray in a restless rhythm.
Saphira stepped beside her, nudging her shoulder gently. “Hey. How are you?”
Zafira offered a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her fingers stilled. “Niks is trying to contact Asher,” Saphira added, watching her closely.
Zafira’s shoulders dropped slightly, her gaze flicking to the floor. “That’s good. I’ve had a bad
feeling. I’m <b>worried </b><b>about </b>him<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Saphita ced a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. “He’ll be okay… Asher’s smart. They all kno how to stay hidden.” <i>But </i>1 <i>have </i>that <i>gut </i><i>feeling </i>too, she added silently, the weight of that truth pressing against her ribs.
They moved forward in line, grabbing tes and filling them with eggs, fruit, and warm bread. The clink of cutlery and soft chatter filled the space around them, aforting hum of routine.
“I’m d about led and Raven though,” Zafira said, her voice lighter. “It’s about time.”
Saphira chuckled, tucking a slice of bread into her basket. “Right? I saw iting ages ago. The way they looked at each other–it was obvious.”
They shared a smile, and Saphira packed up two tes into a cloth–covered basket, folding the edges neatly. “I’ll take this to Niks. He’s probably in the office.”
“Tell him I said hi,” Zafira said, her smile more genuine now, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little.
Saphira waved goodbye and headed down the corridor, the basket warm in her hands.
Saphira headed toward the office<b>, </b>the basket of food cradled against her hip. Her boots clicked softly against the stone floor, each step steady–until she reached the threshold.
She stepped inside and froze.
The room was pristine.
Her breath caught. The splintered chairs, the shatteredmp, the scorched edges of chaos–all gone. In their ce stood sleek, polished furniture: dark wood with silver ents, the kind that whispered authority and control. Even the rug had been reced, its pattern unfamiliar but elegant, a quiet statement of order.
<i>What </i><i>the </i><i>hell</i><i>…</i>? Her gaze swept the space<b>, </b>slow and disbelieving. <i>How</i><i>? </i><i>Already</i><i>? </i>
She blinked, once, twice, as if the scene might flicker back to the wreckage she remembered. But it held. Clean. Composed. Unsettling in its speed.
Niks looked up from a stack of papers at the head of the table. His posture was rxed, but his eyes warmed when they met hers.
Saphira stepped forward, her fingers tightening briefly around the basket’s handle before she ced it down in front of him. “The room looks great,” she said, voice low, still scanning the space. “But how did it get sorted so quickly?”
Niks leaned back <b>in </b><b>his </b>chair, he chuckled, the sound soft but genuine. “We’ve got a team for that Furniture, repairs, buildings–anything broken, they’re on it before most <b>people </b>even notice
Her brows lifted, impressed despite herself. Of course they do. Everything here runs like clockwork. She reached out, brushing her fingertips along the edge of the new table.
“I still have so much to learn,” she murmured. Her hand lingered a moment longer before <b>she </b><b>pulled </b>it back. “But for now, it looks amazing. They did a great job.”
She opened the basket, the scent of eggs and fruit rising to meet them. “I brought breakfast,” she said, then hesitated. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the cloth. “Did you get hold of Asher, Talia, or Sam?”
She watched his face closely, searching for a flicker of good news. Please say yes. Just one of them<b>. </b>Anything. But his expression dimmed, and her heart sank.
Niks sighed, rising from his seat. He crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She didn’t resist.
“I haven’t,” he murmured against her hair. “I know it hasn’t been long since west spoke, but with Ruby showing up… and how easy it was to take Damon… and now nothing from them? Something doesn’t feel right.”
Saphira closed her eyes, letting herself lean into him. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear was a smallfort. “Zafira’s worried too,” she said quietly. “She has a bad feeling.”
Niks’s jaw tightened against her temple. “I hope that’s not a true reflection from her mate bond. I hope it’s just her missing him.”
Saphira nodded, though the unease in her chest didn’t ease. It’s <i>not </i><i>just </i><i>Zafira</i><i>, </i><i>I </i><i>feel </i><i>it </i><i>too</i>. “We need to keep trying.”
He kissed the top of her head, lingering. “We will. After we eat and train, we’ll give it a couple more hours. If there’s still nothing, we’ll ask Raven and a few other witches to help locate them.”
Saphira pulled back slightly, her hands resting against his chest. “That’s a good idea.”
They sat together at the table, the foody between them, untouched for a moment. Then, wordlessly, they began to eat.