The Witches Dragonbond

Chapter 6.

A month had quickly passed since the battle at Wellwick.

Each day had been grueling—filled with training, planning, and endless inquiries about King Harold’s estranged son, Eric. Despite their efforts, there had been no trace of him. No villager, no traveler, not even the most well-connected informants had heard a whisper of his whereabouts or that he was even alive. It was as if he had vanished from the world entirely.

Yet Evelynn refused to give up.

Between their search, and endless training,she had spent every evening meeting with the dragon in secret. Their bond had deepened in ways she hadn’t expected. He had no name and said that his past was quite literally ancient history.But he had guided her through the awakening of her witch heritage, unlocking power she never knew she possessed. Fire, water, earth, and air—she could now call upon the elements, bending them to her will, though not without extreme effort that left her drained . The stronger her connection with the dragon grew, the more natural her abilities felt. She could summon flames with a thought, shift the wind with a flick of her wrist, and sense the energy humming just beneath the earth. It was exhilarating, powerful, but also deeply terrifying.

Despite everything she had gained in just a month. one thing had grown increasingly complicated.

Axel.

Their relationship had changed since that night by the stream. Though they still fought side by side, trained together, and strategized with the others, there was something different between them now—something tense and unspoken. Evelynn caught him watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking, his sharp blue eyes shadowed with something unreadable. When they spoke, his words were clipped, his usual teasing edge seemed dulled. He never mentioned the kiss. And she didn’t ask.

She didn’t know what to say.

A part of her wanted to confront him, to demand answers, to make sense of the way he had kissed her so fiercely only to pull away like it had been a mistake. But another part of her—one she hated to acknowledge—was afraid of the answer.Afraid she’d lose more then she already had of her once close friend.

Tonight, as the rebellion gathered around the fire to discuss their next move, Evelynn pushed all of it aside. They had a more pressing concern: finding Eric.

The fire crackled, casting shifting shadows over the rebels as they sat in a loose circle, the scent of charred wood thick in the air. The meal had been simple—some leftover bread and dried meat—but the conversation was anything but dull.

“I’m just saying,” Rowan spoke around a mouthful of food, “if Eric was hiding, don’t you think he’d at least leave some kind of trail? A vague rumor? A mysterious letter? Something?”

“Maybe he’s smarter than you,” Mary said with a smirk, tossing a small twig at Rowan, who swatted it away.

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to be found,” Lauren added, stretching her legs out toward the fire. “Ever consider that?”

Callum shook his head. “If I were an estranged prince, I’d be drinking myself into oblivion in some brothel, not lurking in the shadows waiting for rebels to come knocking.”

Evelynn snorted. “Good to know where your priorities would be, Callum.”

“Hey, if I had the choice between fighting a war or being pampered by a bunch of lovely women, I’m picking the latter.” He grinned, winking at Lauren , who rolled her eyes.

“Well, Eric hasn’t shown up in any brothels, taverns, or any other place men like you would waste their coin,” Jasmine said dryly, arching a brow at Callum.

“I’m just saying—”

“You’re always just saying,” Rowan interrupted, earning a round of chuckles from the group.

For a moment, the tension of the past month melted into easy camaraderie. Evelynn leaned back on her palms, exhaling slowly. These were her people—flawed, stubborn, reckless. But she wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Still, the weight of their mission lingered. They were no closer to finding Eric than they had been weeks ago, and time was running out fast.

She sighed, raking a hand through her unruly red hair, not in its usual braid. “We just need a new approach.”

“What do you suggest?” Axel finally spoke, his voice even but distant. He had been quieter than usual tonight, listening rather than joining in the friendly banter.

She glanced at him, but as always, his expression was unreadable. “We start looking outside the villages. The forests, the ruins, anywhere someone trying to disappear might go.”

Rowan groaned. “Great. More sleeping in the dirt.”

“Like you weren’t already,” Mary teased.

Rowan smirked. “Yeah, but at least near villages, I have a chance at a warm bed.”

Lauren smirked. “From what I hear, your chances are always very slim.”

As Rowan sputtered a response, a sudden gust of wind cut through the camp. The fire flickered violently, and an unnatural hush fell over the group.

A presence filled the space, unseen yet undeniable.

Evelynn’s body tensed, instincts flaring. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she felt it—a shift in the air, in the energy around them crackling.

Then, from the shadows beyond the firelight, he stepped forward.

The stranger was unlike anyone Evelynn had ever seen.

His auburn hair was tousled, falling just past his ears, and his emerald-green eyes glowed like the heart of the forest. His sun-kissed skin caught the moonlight, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. Scars littered his arms and what little of his chest was visible beneath the tattered remains of his tunic, telling a story of battles long fought.

He was in a word breathtaking.

And as his eyes locked onto Evelynn’s, something deep inside her stirred.

It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Different from her bond with the dragon, different from the strange tension with Axel. It was a pull—strong, undeniable, like she’d known him her entire existence .

She could feel him.

Not just his presence. Not just his gaze. His power.

It crackled in the air, whispering to her own magic like an old friend. It sent a shiver down her spine, and suddenly, a thought she hadn’t considered before struck her like a bolt of lightning.

Warlock.

The realization nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

The camp remained deathly silent as the man took another step closer, his gaze never wavering from hers.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke in a voice that surely could make anyone swoon.

“I’ve heard you’ve been looking for me.”

It was him , Eric.

As soon as the words left Eric’s mouth, the entire rebellion tensed. Hands flew to weapons, blades scraping against their scabbards, bows drawn with deadly precision. Axel was the first to step forward, placing himself instinctively between Evelynn and the stranger, his stance rigid, prepared to strike.

“Who the hell are you?” Jasmine demanded, voice sharp. “And why shouldn’t we kill you where you stand?”

Eric, however, didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he lifted one hand and, with a flick of his fingers, the air crackled with unseen power. A wave of energy rippled outward, invisible yet undeniable, and in an instant, every single rebel around the fire went rigid, their movements frozen mid-action.

Evelynn felt the magic pulse around her, but it did not hold her. She remained free, untouched by whatever spell Eric had cast. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned back to him, their eyes locking in a silent understanding.

“You…” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re like me.”

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “And you’re like me, little witch.”

The nickname should have annoyed her, just as it did when her companions used it. But when he said it, there was something different in his tone—something almost… fond. Like an acknowledgment of something only they could understand.

Evelynn squared her shoulders, keeping her voice steady. “You need to unfreeze them now.”

Eric raised a brow. “Why? I rather like the quiet.” His gaze flicked to Axel, still locked in place, his eyes burning with barely restrained fury. “Besides, your friends seemed quite ready to gut me where i stand. Can you blame me for wanting to avoid unnecessary violence?”

“They won’t harm you,” Evelynn assured him. “Not unless you give them a reason to.”

Eric tilted his head, considering her words for a moment. Then, with another effortless wave of his hand, the tension broke. Gasps and curses filled the night as the rebels suddenly regained control of their bodies, stumbling slightly as if shaken from a bad dream.

Axel’s sword was still half-raised when he exhaled sharply and whirled on Evelynn. “Are you okay?” he demanded, ignoring Eric entirely.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, before looking back at their unexpected visitor. “Eric, we’ve been searching for you.”

His expression shifted ever so slightly, something unreadable flickering behind those piercing emerald eyes. “I figured as much,” he mused. “Though I must admit, I was curious to see how long it would take you.”

Evelynn narrowed her eyes. “Then why didn’t you come to us?”

His smirk deepened. “Where would be the fun in that?”

Jasmine let out an exasperated scoff. “Great. He’s got an ego.”

Evelynn ignored the jab, stepping closer. “I’m not here for games. We need your help, Eric. King Harold your father needs to be stopped.”

Eric’s gaze flickered to the fire, watching the flames dance. He was quiet for a long moment before he finally sighed, tilting his head as he studied her. “You’re different then what I had expected.”

“You say that like you already knew of me,” she countered.

His lips curled into another knowing smile. “I did.”

That sent a shiver down her spine, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Will you help us?”

Eric’s gaze held hers, his power humming in the air between them, crackling like lightning before a storm.

And then, finally, he gave her an answer.

“We’ll see.”

Axel’s grip on his sword was still tight, his knuckles white as he took a step closer to Evelynn. His stance was rigid, protective, as if he expected Eric to strike at any moment. “And why should we trust you?” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Eric didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, his sharp emerald eyes remained locked on Evelynn, studying her with an almost amused curiosity. “You shouldn’t,” he admitted easily, his lips curving into that same insufferable smirk. “Trust is a fragile thing, after all.”

Axel took another step forward, muscles tensed like a predator about to pounce. “Then why are you here?”

Eric finally turned his gaze toward him, eyes gleaming with something unreadable—something just as sharp as the edge of a blade. “Because the little witch called for me.” His voice was smooth, but there was a subtle weight behind his words. A challenge.

Axel’s jaw clenched. “We don’t need you.”

Eric chuckled, low and knowing. “Oh, but I think she does.” He turned back to Evelynn, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t you, little witch?”

Evelynn felt the weight of both of their stares, the firelight flickering between them. She could practically feel Axel’s frustration rolling off him in waves, but Eric’s presence was like a magnetic pull—one she couldn’t quite explain. He radiated the same power she did, the same force in her veins, and that connection was undeniable.

She didn’t hesitate , just nodded. “Yes.”

Axel inhaled sharply beside her, but Eric just smiled, like he had already known her answer. Like he had been waiting for it.

“Well then,” Eric said, voice softer now, almost thoughtful. He stepped closer—so close that Evelynn could see the faintest freckles scattered across his sun-kissed skin, the old scars marking his arms, the intensity in his gaze as he peered down at her.

“I’ll help you take down my father.”

A stunned silence fell over the group. The crackling fire was the only sound between them, the weight of his words sinking in.

Axel’s head snapped toward Evelynn, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place. Betrayal? Anger? Something else entirely? She wasn’t sure, but before she could say anything, he turned on his heel and stormed away, disappearing into the darkness beyond the firelight.

Eric let out a small hum of amusement, watching him go. “He doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

Evelynn exhaled slowly, forcing herself to tear her gaze from Axel’s retreating form. She turned back to Eric, ignoring the strange warmth in her chest at the way he was looking at her.

“No,” she admitted. “He doesn’t.”

Eric grinned “Good.”

The rebels had accepted many outcasts into their ranks, but never one like Eric.

He moved through the camp as if he had always belonged, yet there was an undeniable air of otherness about him—something not just born from his royal blood, but from the sheer power that radiated off of him in waves. Evelynn had felt it the moment he arrived, the way it hummed in the air between them, a resonance like her bond with the dragon.

A warlock.

She had known it instinctively but kept the thought to herself. For now.

The rebels, however, were far less subtle in their distrust.

“Do you always stare so intensely?” Eric asked dryly as he balanced a knife between his fingers, looking pointedly at Rowan, who sat across the fire from him, arms crossed.

“Only when I don’t trust someone,” Rowan shot back.

Eric smirked. “Must be exhausting, then.”

Rowan’s glare darkened, but before he could retort, Callum spoke up. “Alright, let’s just get to the point,” he said, exasperated. “If you’re serious about this, if you’re serious about taking down your father, then prove it.”

Eric leaned back on his hands, arching a brow. “And how would you like me to do that? Bring you his head on a silver platter?”

“That’d be a good start,” Callum muttered.

The tension around the fire was thick, but Evelynn had no patience for it tonight. “Enough,” she said, standing. “Eric has already given us information on how the king moves his forces. That’s more than we had before.”

“Trust goes both ways,” Eric added smoothly, but his cinnamon-colored eyes flickered toward Evelynn, a glint of something unreadable in them. “But I have to admit, I expected a warmer welcome.”

At that, Eric’s smirk dropped.

“My father sent me to die at sixteen,” he said, voice quieter now, less mocking. “Sent me into battle untrained, outnumbered, and left me for dead. I had no way home, not that it would have mattered—he’d already declared me gone, blamed the ogres and orcs for my death, and used it as fuel for his endless war.”

The fire crackled in the heavy silence that followed.

Evelynn watched as some of the rebels exchanged glances, their skepticism still present but perhaps not as sharp. Even Rowan, who had been so openly distrustful, remained silent.

“You’re here now,” Mary said after a moment, her voice hesitant. “What changed?”

Eric’s gaze slid back to Evelynn, and something in her stomach twisted at the intensity of it.

“I heard about her,” he admitted. “The woman with dragon’s eyes.”

Evelynn’s breath caught, but she kept her expression neutral.

“You came for me,” she said carefully.

He gave a slow nod. “I came because I was curious. And now, I stay because I see an opportunity.”

“For what?” Axel’s voice cut through the air, sharper than steel.

Evelynn turned just as Axel emerged from the shadows.

Eric, for his part, only seemed amused by Axel’s presence. “For change,” he answered smoothly. “For the chance to undo everything my father has built. For the chance to watch him fall.”

“And what happens after that?” Axel pressed.

Eric tilted his head, then glanced at Evelynn. “That depends on your little witch, doesn’t it?”

Axel stiffened at the nickname, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Evelynn didn’t miss the way Eric watched him, measured him, before looking back at her with a flicker of something smug in his expression.

The tension between them was a living thing, crackling like the fire itself.

“We’ll deal with what happens after when the time comes,” Evelynn said, voice firm. “Right now, we focus on strategy. Eric has knowledge of the kingdom’s defenses, and we have an army growing every day. We need to be ready.”

Eric exhaled, a slow, dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s settled, then.” He glanced toward Axel. “Now, if you’re done interrogating me, I’d love to get some rest before the next round of glares and death threats.”

Axel said nothing.

Eric smirked, then turned back to Evelynn. “Goodnight, little witch.”

Evelynn’s pulse jumped, but she forced herself to ignore it.

Eric disappeared into the dark, leaving the tension lingering in his wake.

After a moment, Axel turned to Evelynn. “Be careful with him,” he muttered.

“I can handle myself,” she replied.

Axel didn’t argue, but the look in his eyes as he walked away said everything.

Evelynn remained by the fire, watching the embers glow, knowing deep down that things were only going to get more complicated from here.

Because the truth was, Axel wasn’t wrong.

Eric was dangerous.

But whether that danger was to their enemies or to her heart—she hadn’t decided yet.