CHAPTER 28
Saphira sat back in the meeting room, her gaze sweeping across the warriors gathered around the table. Earlier, this table had been covered in histories and lessons, teaching her the intricate web of supernatural politics. But now, the atmosphere was different—tense, expectant. Instead of books and knowledge, it was Nikolas' warriors seated before her, hopefully bearing the information they desperately needed about Zafira.
Nikolas wasted no time. His voice, usually laced with an easy confidence, was now sharp with authority. “What have you found?”
Gone was the warmth, the quiet amusement she had grown accustomed to. This was the Alpha. The leader. And in that moment, he was wholly focused on the answers that had yet to come.
One of the warriors—a woman with sharp eyes and steady composure—shook her head slightly, glancing briefly at Saphira before turning her attention to Nikolas. “I originally tracked her scent north of here,” she started, her tone measured, controlled. “Almost identical to the path toward the Elders. But then it went cold, so we gave up.”
Saphira’s chest tightened. A dead end.
“But as time passed, with no other leads, I went back to the spot where it disappeared,” the warrior continued. “And this time, I picked up another scent.” She shifted her gaze to the man seated across from her.
Saphira’s breath hitched slightly, waiting.
“I was the one who recognized it,” the male warrior said, his voice steady with certainty. “It was the same scent I caught when I picked Finn up from the Matchmaker. I think it belonged to a guard.”
Saphira froze. The words crashed over her like a wave she hadn’t been prepared for. A guard. From the Matchmaker.
Her gaze darted to Nikolas instinctively, sensing his reaction before she even saw it. The moment the words registered, his expression twisted—a mixture of confusion, fury, and something deeper. Something dangerous.
“You’re telling me,” Nikolas said, his voice low, vibrating with restrained rage, “that the Matchmaker had something to do with the attack and the kidnapping?”
The weight in the room shifted, thickened.
“It seems likely,” the female warrior admitted, her voice careful, precise.
Saphira could feel the tension crackling between them, the unspoken realization solidifying like stone. This wasn’t just an unfortunate accident or a random act of cruelty. There was intent behind this. A force moving in the shadows, pulling strings where they had least expected it.
And the Matchmaker—someone meant to guide, to ensure stability—was somehow involved.
The thought settled uneasily in her chest. Nothing was as it seemed. And whatever they had uncovered today was only the beginning.
After a few deep breaths, Nikolas steadied himself, the fury in his gaze simmering beneath a tightly controlled surface. His voice remained sharp, firm. “Keep investigating. I need to know if she was put in there or not.”
The warriors nodded, their expressions taut with determination. With a respectful bow of their heads—one given out of more than just duty—they excused themselves, disappearing from the room. Saphira returned the gesture with a small smile, appreciating the reverence behind it.
Once they were gone, she turned to Nikolas, her voice softer now. “Are you okay?”
He exhaled deeply, the weight of his emotions clear in the way his shoulders tensed. “Not really,” he admitted. “But we have a lead.”
It wasn’t much, but it was something. And after endless uncertainty, any direction was better than standing still.
Saphira frowned slightly, her mind drifting back to the warrior’s words. The trail north. Something about it didn’t sit right with her. It was the same unsettling sensation she had felt with Ruby—the inexplicable feeling that something was being overlooked. She had learned not to ignore those instincts.
“What else is north of here?” she asked, a hint of calculation threading through her tone.
Nikolas glanced at her, considering. “Other than the Elders, nothing. Why?”
She chewed on that answer for a moment. “Hmm. It just seems strange, but I might be overthinking it,” she murmured, dismissing the thought almost as quickly as it had surfaced. Doubt crept in—she didn’t want to be wrong, didn’t want to waste time chasing a gut feeling that might lead nowhere.
But before she could push it aside completely, Nikolas reached for her hand, his grip warm and reassuring as he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Please,” he said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I want to hear your thoughts.”
The way he looked at her then—like a man reaching for clarity in the middle of a storm—stirred something deep within her. She had never seen him like this before. The powerful leader, the unwavering warrior—he looked almost… lost.
Saphira swallowed, gathering her thoughts. “It just seems strange that the trail leads toward the Elders—the very people who oversee all supernatural’s. They wouldn’t stand for something like this to happen under their watch.” She met his gaze, expression thoughtful. “And yet, they didn’t sense anything? Or notice that someone from the Matchmaker was lingering near their borders?”
Her voice dropped slightly, questioning now. “Do they not have patrols? Enough power to detect something like this?”
Silence filled the room. Nikolas just stared at her, his expression unreadable. The moment stretched long enough that Saphira’s stomach twisted with uncertainty. She shouldn’t have said anything. She had barely scratched the surface of this world—what did she know?
“Sorry,” she started, shifting uncomfortably. “It was just a thought—”
“No,” Nikolas interrupted, his voice cutting through the space between them. He straightened slightly, something shifting in his posture. “I didn’t think of it that way. But now that you’ve said it…” He trailed off, eyes flickering with realization.
A beat passed. Then another.
“This is why I need you,” he murmured, his tone laced with something deeper than simple admiration.
Saphira felt her heartbeat pick up slightly. She had spent so long believing she had nothing to offer—no place, no real significance in the grand scheme of supernatural society. But now, as Nikolas looked at her with something close to respect, to trust, she wondered—maybe she had been meant for more all along.