The Witches Dragonbond

Chapter 7.

Later that night, when the camp had gone quiet and the only sounds were the crackling of dying embers and the occasional hoot of an owl, Evelynn slipped away into the trees.

She moved like a shadow, her steps careful and measured. The cool night air wrapped around her, but she barely felt it. Her mind was too focused on Eric.

There was something about him—something that unsettled her as much as it intrigued her. His magic was powerful, ancient in a way that felt oddly familiar. She needed answers.

Following the faint thread of magic that lingered in the air, she found him where she expected—just beyond the camp, leaning against a fallen log, his eyes reflecting the moonlight like liquid cinnamon.

“You always sneak up on people in the dead of night, little witch?” Eric’s voice was smooth, laced with amusement as he smirked in her direction.

She crossed her arms. “Only when I think they’re hiding something.”

Eric let out a low chuckle, pushing off the log. “And what is it you think I’m hiding?”

Evelynn stepped closer. “Your magic. It’s strong. Stronger than I’ve ever seen in anyone but… me.” She hesitated before adding, “What are you, Eric?”

His smirk faded, replaced by something more serious. He studied her for a long moment before finally speaking. “A warlock, like you.” His voice was quieter now, more measured. “But unlike you, I wasn’t trained. I didn’t even know what I was until my father threw me into war, hoping I’d either become useful to him or die trying.”

Evelynn’s breath caught at the bitterness in his tone. “You had to figure it out on your own?”

A humorless smile tugged at his lips. “Magic is like survival. When you have no other choice, you either master it, or it consumes you.”

She swallowed, her fingers twitching at her sides. “Show me,” she said softly.

Eric’s brow lifted. “You want a demonstration?”

She nodded.

With a slow, knowing smile, he lifted his hand. A small spark flickered to life at his fingertips, glowing a deep, golden orange. Evelynn felt the magic hum in the air between them, pulling at something inside her.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the flame leaped into her open palm. It didn’t burn—just danced along her skin like a living ember.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips.

Eric stepped closer, watching her reaction with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured.

She nodded, transfixed by the fire twisting and curling between their hands. It was unlike anything she had ever done before—seamless, effortless. As if their magic recognized each other.

Eric’s fingers brushed hers, just barely, and the flame flickered in response. For a moment, it wasn’t just magic sparking between them.

The air grew thick, charged with something deeper than power.

Evelynn met his gaze, heat pooling low in her stomach at the way he was looking at her—like he was seeing every part of her, magic and all, and accepting it without question.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them noticed the shadow hidden in the trees.

Axel stood stiff as stone, watching, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, but he didn’t step forward.

He had followed her when he noticed her slip away. A part of him wished he hadn’t.

Because now, standing here, unseen and unwanted, all he could do was watch as Evelynn let another man into the part of herself she had never shared with him.

And it burned more than any flame ever could.

The next night at the rebel camp had shifted into an easy warmth, the kind that only came after a hard tension filled day. The fire crackled as everyone settled into relaxed conversation, the tension of previous weeks finally ebbing. It had been a while since they’d all sat like this—laughing, telling stories, drinking in their victory.

Eric fit into the group surprisingly well. Despite the initial wariness some had shown toward him.Now, he was listening intently as Callum animatedly retold a past fight, hands moving wildly as he mimicked the way he’d barely dodged a rogue’s blade.

“—and then, just as the bastard thought he had me, I rolled under his legs and caught him in the ribs from behind.” Callum grinned. “Dropped like a sack of grain.”

Dain scoffed. “Right. And you totally meant to roll like that, didn’t you?”

Callum put a hand to his chest, mock offended. “Of course I did! I have style.”

Lauren laughed, shaking her head. “You have dumb luck.”

Eric smirked, leaning forward. “And what about Wellwick? Any grand last-second dodges there?”

Callum was about to answer when Rowan cut in. “If you’re asking about Wellwick, you should be looking at Evelynn.” He turned to her with a nod of respect. “She was the one who took down Derek’s second-in-command.”

Eric’s attention flickered to Evelynn. His gaze had been drifting toward her all night, but now he was watching her closely, as if committing her to memory. “Is that true?”

Evelynn shrugged, trying to downplay it. “He left himself open. I took the shot.”

Mary snorted. “That’s an understatement. She put an arrow clean through the bastard’s throat.”

Eric let out a low whistle. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Evelynn met his eyes, her lips curving slightly. “I think you already have.”

The group let out chuckles, but Eric held her gaze, his smirk softening into something more unreadable. For a brief moment, the sounds of the camp faded, and it was just the two of them, embers from the fire reflecting in his deep cinnamon colored eyes.

He tilted his head slightly. “Still alive, though.”

Evelynn’s fingers idly tapped against the back of her bow. “For now.”

A few of the others muttered something about turning in for the night, and one by one, the rebels trickled away, leaving just Evelynn and Eric by the fire. The air between them felt heavier now, but not in a bad way.

She watched him for a long moment before finally breaking the silence. “Come with me.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe.”

He chuckled but stood, waiting for her lead. She pulled a strip of cloth from her belt and stepped closer, holding it up.

“I need you to trust me,” she said.

Eric hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Alright.”

She tied the blindfold over his eyes, and as her fingers brushed against his skin, she felt him still for just a fraction of a second. He wasn’t afraid—more so that he was aware.

“Is this really necessary?” he murmured.

Evelynn tugged the knot tight. “Completely.”

She led him through the forest, her movements quiet and sure, Eric following close behind without stumbling. Despite being unable to see, he moved confidently, trusting her lead. The silence between them was oddly comfortable, the night air charged with something she couldn’t quite place.

When they finally arrived at the emerald-encrusted cave, Evelynn pulled off the blindfold.

Eric blinked as his vision adjusted to the dim glow of the cavern. Then, his breath caught.

The dragon stood before them, wings partially unfurled, his golden green eyes locked onto Eric with an intensity Evelynn didn’t understand.

Eric inhaled sharply. “You—”

Before Evelynn could even process his reaction, the dragon spoke—aloud.

“Eric.”

The deep, rumbling voice sent a shiver down Evelynn’s spine. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

The dragon had never spoken aloud before. He had only ever communicated with her through their soul bond.

Eric, however, didn’t seem shocked. He stepped forward, eyes narrowing slightly. “I wasn’t sure it was really you.”

Evelynn stiffened, looking between them. “You know each other?”

The dragon’s stern gaze flicked to her, his voice steady. “There is much you do not yet understand, Evelynn.”

She crossed her arms, glaring at them both. “Either of you care to explain?”

The dragon huffed, the ground beneath them trembling slightly from the force of it. “Patience.”

Evelynn turned to Eric, confusion marking her expression. “You… know him? The dragon?” Her voice was tentative.

Eric nodded, his eyes darkening. “He’s the one who saved me after my father sent me to war to be killed. He gave me part of his power. The warlock magic, it came from him.”

The revelation hit Evelynn like a strike of lightning. The dragon… gave Eric his powers?

The dragon’s massive head lowered, his eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge. You both are intertwined by destiny. I gave him my magic because I saw the strength within him. I had hoped, long ago, that you would both come together. Your union… is the key to ending the war. You must unite, Evelynn. You are not just a witch, but the bloodline of those who will bring peace. Your ancestors spoke of a witch that would come from their bloodline and would unite with a warlock their children would bring everlasting peace to the land, but they would be the keys to stop in the war”

Evelynn felt her breath catch in her throat. “I’m… part of this prophecy?” she whispered, the weight of the words settling heavily on her shoulders.

The dragon nodded. “The union of a powerful witch and warlock is the key. Together, you will bring an end to King Harold’s tyranny, and unite all beings—creatures, beasts, and humans. Only then can peace come to this land.”

Her mind reeled, and a thousand questions bubbled to the surface. But before she could ask anything, Eric spoke up, his voice steady. “And what now? What do we do?”

The dragon’s gaze was sharp. “Now, you must rally the people. Harold’s reign must end. The rebellion alone cannot do this. You must find the creatures who have suffered under his rule, the outcasts, the rogue factions. They are the key to your victory.”

Evelynn nodded, though she was still grappling with the enormity of the task. She was no longer just a witch fighting for a cause. She was the key to something far greater. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

As they headed back from the cave, Evelyn wondered aloud how she could trust Eric and what the dragon said.

“You brought me here,” he said quietly. “That means you trust me. Even just a little.”

Evelynn hesitated, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. She wasn’t sure what it was about Eric that unsettled her. Maybe it was the way he looked at her—like he saw something beneath the hardened warrior, something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

But it was true she had brought him here.

And that meant something.As Evelynn and Eric reached the edge of the camp, the flickering torchlight cast long shadows over the tents and gathered rebels. The quiet of the night wrapped around them, but the words of the prophecy still echoed in her mind.

“I meant what I said,” Eric murmured, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to decide anything yet. But one way or another, we will end this war.”

Evelynn looked up at him, conflicted. She didn’t trust easily, and though Eric had given her no real reason to doubt him, the weight of fate pushing them together unsettled her.

Still, when he reached for her hand, brushing his fingers against hers before lifting it to his lips, she didn’t pull away. His kiss was light, barely a whisper against her knuckles, but it sent a shiver up her spine.

“Goodnight, little witch,” he said with a smirk, before slipping away into the shadows of the camp.

She let out a slow breath, turning toward her tent—only to freeze as a figure stepped out of the darkness. It was Axel.His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite place.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, her voice wary.

“Long enough.” His tone was sharp, edged with something that sounded almost like betrayal.

Evelynn crossed her arms. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Axel took a step closer, the torchlight casting his features in sharp relief. “I don’t trust him,” he said bluntly. “I saw you with him earlier—by the stream, before you both disappeared together. And now this? Evelynn, he’s manipulating you.”

She stiffened. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His voice was firm, unwavering. “His father is King Harold. That means he’s a threat. And you—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re blinded by whatever bond you think you have with him. Just because he can do magic to.”

Evelynn’s temper flared. “This is bigger than you, Axel. Bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.” She took a step forward, her voice dropping. “You think I don’t see the risk? You think I’m walking into this blindly? I have led this rebellion since I was five. I have bled for it. And I will do whatever it takes to end this war.”

Axel’s jaw clenched, his eyes flicking over her face as if searching for something. Then, he grabbed her.

Before she could react, his lips crushed against hers—nothing like the tentative, stolen kiss by the stream. This was rough, desperate, demanding. Evelynn’s stomach twisted in immediate discomfort, and fury surged through her veins.

Without hesitation, she shoved him—hard.

Axel stumbled backward, landing on the ground with a thud. He looked up at her, stunned.

Breathing heavily, Evelynn wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, glaring down at him. “Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice was ice, colder than she had ever used with him before.

Axel’s hands curled into fists at his sides, but he said nothing.

She took a step back, staring at him with something close to disappointment. “You have a choice,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You can stand beside me in this fight, or you can walk away. But if you ever put your hands on me like that again or kiss me without my permission again you wont have hands to fight this war.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The firelight flickered between them, casting their shadows long against the ground.

Then, without another word, Evelynn turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Axel sitting in the dirt, alone with his thoughts.