The office was dimly lit now, thest streaks of dusk slipping beneath the horizon. Saphira sat curled sideways in one of the leather chairs, bher /bblegs /btucked beneath her, gaze drifting between the fire crackling low in the hearth and the silent stretch of sky outside the window.

Niks stood by the desk, phone pressed to his ear for what felt like the tenth time that hour. She watched the tension in his shoulders rise with each passing second of silence on the line.

“No signal,” he muttered eventually, setting the device down with a quiet thud. He rubbed a hand across his jaw, the motion slow and deliberate. “bIf /bI don’t hear anything by the end of the night… I’m going after them.”

Saphira’s chest tightened. She didn’t like it–not the waiting, not the silence, not the thought of what might’ve gone wrong. But still… she nodded. “As much as I hate the idea, I agree.”

Niks turned to face her fully, brow raised as if reading something else in her tone.

“I’m going with you,” she added, voice firm, rising from the chair.

“No,” he said quickly. “Saphira-”

She held up a hand, stepping closer. “I grew bup /bin that pack, Niks. I know the territory better than anyone else you could take. The shortcuts. bThe /bbblind /bspots. The signs they wouldn’t seeing.“.

He hesitated–eyes narrowing, not out of disagreement, but because he knew she was right.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before speaking again. “I should tell Zafira. She deserves to know what’s happening.”

Saphira’s voice gentled, but it didn’t waver. “Not yet.”

Niks nced at her, questioning.

“She’s still healing,” she said, her tone softer now. “And she may have just found her mate. If we tell her now, all we’re doing is giving her fear she can’t do anything with.”

He searched her face, then gave a slow nod, reluctantly conceding.

Saphira moved to his side, her hand resting lightly on his forearm. “We’ll find them,” she said. “But we wait. Just a few more hours. If they don’te through by then… we move.”

And in that quiet, standing beside him in the flickering firelight, Saphira felt the coil of dread twist again–but this time, it had purpose.

Saphira sat back down on the sofa, her knee brushing against the side cushion as she nced over at Niks. He was still standing, arms crossed, gaze fixed on nothing. The same restless pacing she’d watched him fall into all evening.

“Nik,” she said gently, patting the space beside her. “Please, Sit.”

He hesitated, jaw tight. But after a beat, he moved, settling beside her with a quiet exhale. His knee bumped lightly against hersb. /b

“They’re okay,” she murmured. “I’ve been thinking about the territory.b” /b

He nced at her sideways.

She offered a small, crooked smile. b“/bYou know how many btimes /bmy bdad/b–Lupus–used to storm through the house ranting about terrible bphone /bserviceb? /b

A dry snort escaped Niks despite himself.

“I’m serious,” Saphira said, the smile tugging at the edges bof /bher mouth. “The pack’s territory bwraps /bbin /band out bof /bbthick /bforestb–/bbdense/bb, /bbhigh/bb–/bbcanopy /bbstuff/b. Half bthe /bground is rock beds, and the signal drops like bcrazy /bonce you’re three paces from the main broad/bb./bb” /b

Niks rubbed a hand bacross /bhis bjaw/bb, /bthoughtful. “bDidn’t /bthey all mind–blink /bbinstead/bb?/bb” /b

Saphira shrugged. “They did, mostly. But Lupus had… contacts. Human bones/bb. /bAnd when he needed to call bthem/bb? /bbThe /bman nearly bthrew /bbhis /bbphone /boff a cliff- more than once.”

That earned a faint chuckle from Niks. It wasn’t much–but it cracked through the storm cloud in his posture.

Saphira nudged him with her shoulder. “See? You’re already worrying about nothing.”

“I wouldn’t call it nothing,” he muttered–but the wordscked heat now.

She leaned into the lull between them, then added more softly, “Hey… can dragons mind–link?”

Niks blinked, clearly not expecting the shift. “Sort of,” he said after a moment. “It’sb… /bdifferent. Trickier. When I was younger, I managed bit /bbonce /bor twiceb, /bbut only when things were bad–when instincts were sharper than thought.”

Saphira listened, curious.

He nced at her, eyes a little more thoughtful now. “I’ve heard it’s easier between mates. Once bthe /bbond is strong, and their dragons bstart /btob… /bsync. bIt’s /bnot just thoughts–it’s emotions, intentions. Reflexb, /beven.”

“I was thinking,” she murmured, voice quiet but thoughtful, “if dragons can mind link… what do we need to do bto /bbget /bbthere/bb?/bb” /b

Niks nced at her, brow raising. “nning to read my mind already?”

She gave him a small smirk. “I just think it would make life easier.”

He chuckled softly, gaze warming as he leaned back beside her. “It’s not impossible,” he said. “But it’syered. First, you bneed /bto be fully in sync bwith /bbyour /bdragon–mind, instinct, body. That kind of connection doesn’t just flick on overnight.”

Saphira nodded slowly.

There was a small beat of silence, and then he added more quietly, “Then there’s bus/bb./bb” /b

She looked over at him, watching how his jaw tensed just a little. b“/bbUs/bb?/bb” /b

“Our rtionship,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes. “It’s strong. But… I know it hasn’t exactly been soft or slow. bI’ve /bthrown a lot on you. We’ve had to survive more than… breathe.”

Saphira softened. She reached out and touched his knee gently, grounding him. “Niks, bwe’ve /bboth done bthe /bbbest /bbw /blong that existing together already feels like a kind of miracle.” ollid. We’ve been surviving for so /li/ol

Still, he huffed a breath and offered her ba /bsmall smile. “I should still find ways to… do better. Smaller things. Little datesb. /bSpace just for usb./b”

She gave him a look. “You don’t have to apologise for not taking me on a pic during a war,

“I might still n one,” he teased under his breath:

Then his bvoice /bsteadied. “Once there’s trust between bus/b–and strengthb, /breal emotional strength–that forms ba /bkind of bond between our dragonsb, /btoo, bAnd /bonce bthey /bsense that, they’ll start to connect. Not just bthrough /binstinct, but through emotion. Through choice.b” /b

Saphira leaned in, resting her head gently against his shoulderb, /bheart beating a little steadier. “So they need time. Like us.”

“Exactly,” Niks said. “Time… and a chance to just beb./bb” /b

“Then bwe /bbgive /bthem that,” she whispered. “And maybe bone /bbday/bb…/bI’ll hear byou /bbin /bbmy /bhead and not just when byou’re /bbbrooding /bbacross /bba /bbroom /b

bHe /bughed, low and warm, and she felt it rumble bbeneath /bher cheek.

bSaphira /bbleaned /bin, bthe /bheat bof /bthe bfire /bbcasting /bbsoft /bblight /bbacross /bNiks‘ bface/b, her breath bcatching /bbjust /bbslightly /bbas /bbthe /bspace bbetween /bthem bmet /bbhers/bb–/bbsteady/bb, /bwaiting–and btime /bbfelt /bas bthough /bit had folded bin /bbon /bbitself/bb, /bbquiet /band full of bpromise/b.

Then the shrill ring of the phone shattered the moment.

They both flinched.

Niks reached for the device instinctively, and when Jed’s name lit up the screen, the air in the room constricted. Saphira’s heart skipped.

For a beat, neither of them moved–just stared at the screen, breath suspended.

Then Niks answered, voice tense and low. “Jedb?/b”

bChapter /bbComments /b

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