The Matchmaker


    <b>CHAPTER </b><b>122 </b>


    The office was full now<b>, </b>bodies clustered around the main table, the air thick with unease. Shoulders hunched, arms crossed, gazes darting like restless birds. The scent of old paper and tension clung to the walls. Saphira lingered near the edge of the room, her fingers brushing the worn wood of a filing cab. She scanned the faces–each one tight, expectant, bracing. <i>They </i><i>know </i><i>something’s </i><i>wrong</i><i>. </i><i>They </i><i>just </i><i>don’t </i><i>know </i><i>how </i><i>wrong </i>yet.


    Zafira’s <b>voice </b>cut through the silence. “What’s going on?” she asked, sharp and strained, her eyes locked on Niks like a challenge.


    Niks didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze flicked to Saphira–brief, deliberate. A silent exchange. <i>I’m </i><i>about </i><i>to </i><i>tell </i><i>them</i><i>. </i><i>Be </i><i>ready</i><i>. </i>


    Saphira’s breath caught, but she moved. No hesitation. She stepped beside Zafira, her hand finding the other woman’s forearm, a quiet anchor. Zafira’s muscles were taut beneath her touch. <i>She’s </i><i>already </i><i>bracing </i>for <i>impact</i>. <i>She </i><i>just </i><i>doesn’t </i>know <i>where </i>it’llnd.


    Niks straightened, his voice steady but edged. “Damon said something in the cells. Something that’s got me concerned. He asked about Asher, Talia, and Sam. Specifically. And no one’s been able to get hold of them.”


    A beat passed. Then another. The silence didn’t just sharpen–it sliced.


    Zafira gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as if to hold the panic in. “We need to start looking for them,” she said, her voice climbing. “We need to go now-”


    Saphira turned to her, her tone calm but firm, the kind of calm that cost her. “We will do everything we can. But we need to be smart.”


    Zafira’s eyes red, her body shifting toward her like a storm gathering. “Smart? They could be in danger. We need to take action now!”


    Niks stepped forward, his jaw tight. “No. We need to be careful. That team was sent to scope the Elders. If Damon knows something, it means they’ve beenpromised. Rushing in could


    make things worse.”


    Zafira shook her head, her breathing in short bursts. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “We can’t just sit here—”


    “Zafira,” Anastasia said, her voice low but unyielding. “Niks is right.”


    Zafira spun toward her, fury shing. “How can you be so calm? It’s your son out there!<b>” </b>


    Anastasia didn’t blink. She stepped forward, her spine straight, her gaze like steel. “Because if we’re captured again–or worse, killed–we’re no good to Asher or anyone else. You need to put the mate bond aside for this.”


    Saphira felt the words settle like stones in her chest. She nodded, her voice soft but resolute. “She’s right. And if you can’t do that, Zafira… you’ll need to sit this one out. Let us take the lead.”


    Zafira’s breath hitched. Her eyes shimmered, tears threatening to spill. She looked at Saphira, searching her face–for <i>permission</i>, <i>for </i><i>reassurance</i>, for <i>something </i><i>solid </i><i>to </i><i>hold </i><i>onto</i>.


    Saphira squeezed her arm gently, her thumb brushing once across the skin. “We will find them. I promise.”


    Zafira nodded slowly, her shoulders sagging as she sank into the nearest chair. Her hands trembled slightly as she folded them in herp, knuckles pale.


    The room held its breath a moment longer, the weight of what wasn’t said pressing down like a storm cloud waiting to break.


    The tension hadn’t eased. If anything, it had thickened–coiling around the room like smoke. Saphira stood near the edge of the table, her fingers grazing its surface absently, eyes flicking between the others. Zafira sat quietly now, but her silence felt brittle, like ss waiting to shatter.


    Anastasia broke the quiet. “Niks,” she said, voice low but firm, “what’s the n to find them?”


    Niks exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck before straightening. “That’s why we’ve brought in extra witches. Raven’s leading the spell. They’ll try a locator using Zafira’s mate bond–and blood from Anastasia and Saphira, since they’re Asher’s immediate family.”


    Saphira’s breath caught. <i>Blood </i><i>magic</i><i>. </i><i>It’s </i><i>always </i>a <i>risk</i>. But she nodded, already bracing herself. <b>If </b>it gets us closer to them, it’s <i>worth </i><i>it</i><i>. </i>


    Niks continued, “If that doesn’t work, we’ll need to go over everything surrounding their disappearance. Every detail.”


    Jed leaned forward, arms crossed tight. “If Damon knows something, he was told before we took him. Someone tipped him off.”


    Saphira’s gaze narrowed. “It could’ve been Ruby. If she’s involved with the Elders and Silvermoon, she had ess. She could’ve told him while they were in the cells.”


    11:02 Sun, 24 Aug


    3884


    Niks didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket and began dialling. Saphira tilted her head, brow furrowing. <i>Who </i><i>is </i><i>he </i><i>calling </i><i>now</i>?


    He turned slightly, voice low but direct. “I need you to bug the cells. Discreetly. I want ears on Damon and Ruby. Everything they say.”


    Finn leaned toward Jasper, whispering, “I don’t like any of this.”


    Jasper’s voice cracked as he spoke louder than intended. “We need to bring Talia-” He stopped, swallowed hard. “All of them. Back. Soon. Before they’re hurt.”


    Saphira’s eyes met his. His panic was barely contained, the desperation bleeding through his mask. She gave him a subtle nod–<i>I </i><i>see </i><i>you</i><i>. </i><i>You’re </i><i>not </i><i>alone</i>.–before turning to Raven.


    “What do you need?” she asked, voice steady despite the churn in her chest.


    Raven stepped forward, her dark eyes calm and focused. “Blood from you and Anastasia. Then I’ll need to hold Zafira’s hand during the spell to connect to the mate bond.”


    Anastasia didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it.”


    One of the witches was already prepared, holding a small ceramic bowl Saphira hadn’t noticed before. She ced it on the table with quiet reverence, followed by a sharp, gleaming knife.


    Saphira’s breath hitched. <i>No </i><i>time </i><i>for fear</i><i>. </i><i>Just </i><i>precision</i>. <i>Just </i><i>purpose</i>.


    Anastasia extended her hand first. The witch made a clean incision, the blood pooling quickly.


    Then she turned to Saphira. Saphira offered her hand, jaw tight, and watched the de slice through skin. The sting was sharp, but she didn’t flinch.


    Raven took Zafira’s hand gently, guiding her toward the sofas. The witches followed, forming a loose circle around the small table where the bowl of blood now sat. Raven ced it in the centre, her fingers brushing the rim with care.


    Saphira stepped back, watching as they began to chant–low, rhythmic, ancient. The sound vibrated through the room, stirring something deep in her chest. <i>Let </i><i>this </i><i>work</i><i>. </i><i>Let </i><i>it </i><i>lead </i><i>us </i><i>to </i>


    <i>them</i><i>. </i>


    She didn’t blink. Not now. Not until they had a direction.