Now, the dragon—that was a delightful surprise. They’re supposed to be extinct, a myth of the old world. If anyone discovers his existence, he’ll be hunted down and killed without mercy.
I will never let anyone lay a finger on my little witch, not even those three bastards who I might not even be able to get rid of.
I’ve crossed paths with them countless times, and Darian? He’s a bastard through and through. The other two don’t particularly bother me as much, but if they ever did hurt her, I would happily break every single bone in their body and rip their insides out before making them choke on it. They’re bound by duty to report any crimes to the council, and the mere knowledge of my little witch having a dragon would be her death.
Ravena and her dragon are my priority now, and I’ll carve a blood path to keep them safe, no matter the cost.
I had been away from her for a few days, busy dealing with the pesky vampires who had somehow tracked me down in their relentless pursuit of Ravena. It was almost entertaining to dismantle their bodies, each dismemberment accompanied by a wide, manic smile as I hummed ‘heads will roll’ as I threw their remains off cliffs.
As I entered the woods, leaving behind the outskirts that separated the realms, her cottage came into view. It was a comforting sight against the darkening backdrop of the approaching winter. The air was crisp and cold, a reminder that the season was changing, while clear skies allowed delicate snowflakes to drift lazily down from above.
There she was, outside with her dragon, who had grown significantly since our last encounter when he had scorched my arse. I decided to give him a pass, fully aware that he could incinerate me in an instant.
Still, I hadn’t yet had a taste of my little witch, and the anticipation of that moment sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. Her scent was utterly intoxicating—ripe cherries, sweet and succulent—wafting through the air like a tempting promise. It quickly became my favourite indulgence, a delicious reminder of her essence that lingered long after our encounters. Each time I caught a whiff of that fruit aroma with a vanilla hint, my desire to claim her grew more vigorous, sparking a fire within me that I couldn’t ignore.
I swiftly pivoted to the side as one of her daggers whizzed past, narrowly missing my head. My reflexes kicked in, and I managed to catch the next one mid-air, the blade's tip slicing through my finger. I chuckled as I flipped the dagger playfully in the air. I noticed her dragon that now towered over her slightly with his head raised, standing protectively in front of her.
What the hell was she feeding that beast?
“Do you seriously have nothing better to do?” She asks, arms crossed defiantly.
She looks enchanting in that pale blue dress, the fabric hugging her figure perfectly and reaching her knees, while her hair cascades down in lustrous waves over her breasts, which seems almost too tempting for my sanity.
Damn it, I was always turned on around her. Every moment in her presence was a tantalising dance between desire and danger, and the closer I got, the more I wanted to claim her.
Preferably with my cock.
“Not particularly. So, little witch, were the hunters pissed the other night when I left?” I asked, glancing at her dragon, who huffed and regarded her with an intensity that made me raise an eyebrow.
Hmm, they could communicate.
Dragons are more than just a familiar to witches—they are their own powerful beings, independent yet bonded to thosethey choose. Unlike other familiars, one can perish without the other, but that doesn’t weaken their connection. If anything, it makes them even more loyal. Fiercely protective, a dragon will stand by their witch, not out of servitude but by choice, making their bond unbreakable.
Her dragon's silver eyes mirrored hers, and the disdain radiating from him was unmistakable. Tough luck for him—she was destined to be my future wife. She might not realise it yet, but that didn’t matter; the decision had already been made.
The bond we shared was inevitable, and I wouldn’t let anything or anyone, even a scaly guardian, stand in my way.
I tossed the dagger back at her, and she caught it with effortless grace, placing a reassuring hand on her dragon, who lowered himself to the ground with a disgruntled huff.
“Next time, just set them on fire, problem solved,” I suggested, strolling closer to her, the space between us crackling with tension.
She licked her lips, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to bite them.
“I’m not going to kill them,” My little witch scoffed, like I suggested something ludicrous.
“Why not? They’d kill you without a second thought.” I pointed out, taking in her body, and then my gaze drifted towards the cottage behind her. She must feel lonely out here, aside from her scaly companion.
“I don’t kill people who don’t deserve it.”
I laughed at that, “I’m surprised you’re still alive, being wanted by the king and all.”
I have been tracking her for some time. I know King Draevens' vampires have been after her. She’s managed to take them out with her fighting skills, which are pretty hot to watch. I may have decapitated a few to protect her.
Nobody knows she’s alive; they thought she died the night her mother was murdered. I know it needs to stay that way to protect her. If I could, I would rip all of them to pieces and feed them to her dragon, but I’m afraid I’m not the right person to take down all of her threats.
Her breath hitched, and she stormed forward, vines erupting from the ground to wrap around me, holding me firmly in place.
“You need to start talking, or I’ll bury this blade so deep in your arse you’ll be spitting metal for weeks.” She pulled a dagger out from beneath her dress. It was purple, so very her and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
