Page 21 of Elven Oath

I didn’t trust Aodhan, not yet, but something in his eyes, the way he had looked at me, as though he was just as unsure as I was, gave me pause.

He wasn’t what I expected. The stories told of dragons being cold and heartless, ruthless in their power. But Aodhan... there was something more to him, something I couldn’t quite place.

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoes through the night, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn, eyes scanning the dark edges of the camp.

Falkor and Drago are already on their feet, hands on their weapons, their eyes narrow as they look toward the trees. Aodhan rises more slowly, his stance tense, and for a moment, I think it was just a wild animal disturbing the peace.

But then, I see them.

From the shadows of the trees, figures emerge, silent and swift. Elves. At first, I think perhaps they were sent by my father, maybe even to check on me. But as they step closer, the glint of steel in their hands catches the firelight, and my heart sinks.

These weren’t my father’s men. These were rebels. Elves who still carried hatred in their hearts for dragons. Elves who despised the idea of peace. Elves who had no reservations about killing other elves, including their own princess.

I had heard rumors of them before, whispering of those who would never forgive the ancient war, who would believe this marriage to be a betrayal.

“Vevina, stay back,” Aodhan’s voice is firm, pulling me out of my shock.

He had already drawn his sword, and Falkor and Drago were beside him, their weapons gleaming in the firelight. The tension was palpable, the air thick with the threat of violence.

The elves move swiftly, their faces hidden beneath dark hoods, but I can feel the weight of their anger, their hatred, radiating toward us.

My heart pounds in my chest as I step back, instinctively reaching for the small dagger I keep hidden in my cloak. I had been trained in the basics of self-defense, but I had never faced an attack like this. An attack from my own people.

Without warning, the first of the rebels lunges forward, a blade flashing toward Aodhan. He moves quickly, deflecting the blow with a speed that takes me by surprise.

The clang of steel echoes through the clearing as Falkor and Drago engage the others. Their movements fluid and practiced. They are warriors, honed by years of battle, and it showed in every strike, every block.

But the rebels seem relentless. More of them pour out from the treeline, their numbers growing as they press the attack. I can hear their voices now, fierce, angry shouts in the ancient elven tongue.

They curse the dragons, curse the peace, and I realize with a sinking dread that they weren’t here to just kill Aodhan and his men. They were here for me too.

“Traitor!” one of them spits, his eyes burning with fury as he looks directly at me. “You’ve sold us to the dragons!”

I stumble back, my heart racing. “I didn’t choose this!” I shout, my voice trembling but strong. “I didn’t ask for this!”

But it doesn’t matter. To them, I am the symbol of everything they despise. A princess who has betrayed her own people, bound to their ancient enemies.

Suddenly, one of the rebels breaks through, slipping past Falkor and Drago. He comes straight for me, his blade raised high. Fear shoots through me like ice, threatening to freeze me in place. I can see the madness in his eyes, the determination to end me.

But before he can reach me, Aodhan is there.

He moves like a storm, a blur of motion as he intercepts the rebel’s attack. The clang of steel rings out as their blades meet, and in the blink of an eye, Aodhan disarms him, sending the elf crashing to the ground.

His golden eyes blaze with fury as he stands over the fallen rebel, his chest heaving with the effort of battle.

“Leave her alone,” Aodhan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The rebel scrambles to his feet, retreating back toward the trees with a glare, but it was clear they were losing ground.

The dragons are stronger, faster, and the rebels hadn’t anticipated just how fierce their resistance would be.

Within minutes, the remaining rebels flee into the forest, their retreat swift and silent. The camp falls into an uneasy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the heavy breathing of those who had fought.

I stand there, frozen, my heart still racing from the chaos. My dagger hangs limply in my hand, though I never had the chance to use it.

Aodhan turns toward me, his golden eyes still glowing with the remnants of battle, but beneath that fierce exterior, I see something else.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice softer now.

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