Page 10 of Bound in Flames (The Savage Hearts #1)
Chapter 10
Cleo
T he forest closed in around us as the day wore on, the canopy filtering the sunlight into a dim, almost twilight-like glow. The air was cool, and the tension between Dex and I had shifted to something more intimate. Every time I caught the flicker of his golden eyes on me, my pulse quickened. My body was hyper-aware of him. His strength, his body heat, the way his deep voice seemed to sink into my skin and settle in my chest. Focus, Cleo!
It wasn’t just his presence that had my blood humming. The memory of my magic, how the earth had responded to my command, still thudded in my veins. I could feel the heady power as the roots had surged up. It had been intoxicating. Overwhelming and terrifying.
And then there was a darker pull, the strange feeling when the Shadow Hound had fallen, its lifeforce draining away into the earth. The dark, cold emptiness of death had brushed against my awareness, and for a fleeting moment, I had felt the urge to reach out and grasp it, to take that energy into myself. The thought left me sick, but it also left me aching with a strange and unnerving hunger for more. A pulse of power throbbed beneath my skin, but the darkness kept it at bay. Barely. It wasn’t just magic. It spoke to something darker in me.
“Stop.”
Freezing, I scanned the shadows ahead, heart pounding. I thought he had spotted another shape approaching in the shadows, but breathed a sigh of relief when three orcs emerged from the underbrush, their broad shoulders and green skin unmistakable even in the dim light. The first one to step forward was a towering figure with a gray-streaked braid that glinted faintly under the dappled light. His amber eyes locked onto Dex, and his face split into a wide grin, sharp tusks gleaming. “Glad to see you, old friend!” he called out, his voice thick with relief and warmth.
Dex smiled widely, taking in the trio. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to it that I could feel even from where I stood. “Miss me already, Gornak?”
Behind Gornak, the two other orcs moved swiftly into view. One of them, smaller but no less imposing, clutched a curved blade in one hand while his other rested with a falcon perched on his shoulder. The bird’s sharp eyes scanning the area as if it, too, understood the danger of the forest. With a quick whistle from its master, the falcon launched into the air, disappearing into the canopy above with a flutter of wings.
“I'll send word to the clan,” the smaller orc said. “They’ll be relieved to hear of your return, Chieftain.”
The weight of their gazes pressed against my skin, their expressions sharpened with curiosity. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, and it took everything I had not to recoil. Instead, I kept my chin steady, even as my pulse drummed in my ears and my fingers curled into the fabric of my dress. Self-consciousness gnawed at me as their gazes swept over me, taking in every detail. My dress was torn and frayed, dirtied by mud and riddled with debris that clung stubbornly to the hem. The cut on my temple felt raw and exposed under their scrutiny, and I could almost feel the grime on my skin, the days of running and fighting etched into every inch of me. I fought the urge to brush at my hair, knowing it would be futile. They saw me as I was—bruised and vulnerable.
“And her?” Gornak asked. His voice was low but filled with curiosity as he leaned around Dex to take me in.
“She is a shaman. The reason I’m free and the reason we’re still alive. She’s more powerful than any I’ve ever seen.”
As Dex told them of our journey and how we came to be traveling companions, I watched the orcs closely. They exchanged glances, expressions shifting from suspicion to something resembling cautious respect. The tension in the air didn’t completely dissipate, but it softened enough for one of them to step forward, offering a faint nod and crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture felt deliberate, almost protective, as if signaling acceptance.
“Enchanted cuffs,” the young falconer muttered, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “The Ostelan Crown is cruel; putting anyone through that is akin to torture. I’m Thorn.”
“Cleo.” I nodded in response.
At their Chieftain’s request for food and water, the orcs immediately handed Dex a waterskin while offering me a small sachet of dried fruit. Their glances lingered, curiosity sparking in their eyes as I murmured my thanks, but they said nothing more. I watched as Gornak pressed a dagger into Dex’s hand with a slight bow of his head, the golden glow of the runes casting a bronze light against his scarred green hand.
Our group began to move further into the forest, and I followed close behind. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider, but Dex’s steady presence at my side kept me grounded. The path wound through dense undergrowth, the shadows growing longer as the sun dipped lower, until the faint smell of woodsmoke reached me.
We arrived at a small clearing where a modest campsite had been set up. The orcs spread out efficiently, unrolling canvas and tending to the fire pit at the center. Dex steered me closer to the flames, and I sank onto a log, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin as I tried to shake off the lingering tension.
“Chieftain!” one of them called out, his voice thick with relief. He was taller than the others, his deep-set amber eyes glowing faintly as he strode forward. “You’re alive.”
“What's with the pet, Dex?”
“The human”—he glanced briefly down at me, his voice steady but carrying an edge of something unreadable—“is a shaman. Her name is Cleo, and she is seeking refuge with us.”
The warriors exchanged glances, their curiosity sharpening as they absorbed his words. They turned their attention to me and offered murmured introductions and greetings, their voices gruff but not unfriendly. My own responses were hesitant and soft, barely audible over the hum of tension in the air. “A shaman?” one repeated, disbelief flickering across his face.
“A powerful one. Her magic was unlike anything I’ve seen. She was destined for Knights Hold.” His golden eyes flicked to me for a moment before continuing. “Without her, I would still be in chains. Her tenacity helped us escape, and her magic has already grown stronger. The Shadow Hound we encountered was no match for her. She drove the Shadow Hound down with it. It’s stronger than anything I expected.”
They exchanged knowing looks. I fought the urge to shrink under their scrutiny, but the weight of their attention still made my skin prickle.
“Later,” Dex said, his tone final. “For now, we need rest.”
My body screamed for rest, but my mind was far from quiet. Dex returned with smoked meat and some bread, pushing both roughly into my hands before he crouched beside me. His gaze was so intense, so raw, that it made it hard to breathe. There was something pulling between us, something that had been building since we first spoke, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
"You need to eat a real meal, but this is the best we have until the hunters return." His voice was rougher than usual.
“Thank you.” I nodded, though the last thing on my mind was food. I was hungry, yes, but not for the dried rations he had given me. As I took the pouch from his hands, my fingers brushed against his, sending a spark of warmth shooting up my arm. My pulse quickened, and I found myself acutely aware of every inch of him. The sharp line of his jaw, the hungry gleam in his eyes, and the sheer strength coiled in his body as he crouched beside me. My thoughts drifted, my gaze flicking to his broad shoulders and down to the way his muscles shifted. Get a hold of yourself!
The air between us crackled with tension, and I thought he might close the distance, hoped that he might finally give in to whatever was pulling us together. But just as quickly as it had built, he leaned back, leaving me aching for something I wasn’t sure I was ready for. Gods, what was wrong with me? Stop pining over a stranger!
As the camp settled into a quiet stillness. The orcs took shifts to keep watch, their eyes focused on the trees for any signs of danger, the fire crackling softly in the center of the clearing. I sat closer to the fire, trying to absorb its warmth into my chilled skin. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of the creature flashed in my mind, its glowing red eyes burning through the darkness. But it wasn’t just the sight of its death that haunted me. It was the way my power was desperate for it that had disgust roiling through me.
I could feel the sensation that had washed over me the moment it stepped out of the shadows. A cold so intense it burned. It wasn’t the physical cold of ice or snow. It was something far more unnatural. The absence of life. The kind of cold that numbed your soul, like everything alive had been drained from the world around you. That creature didn’t belong in this world and it had immediately sent me reeling.
I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to shake off the memory, but it clung to me, suffocating and all consuming. The smell, Gods, I would never forget the smell. The scent of death was thick and cloying as it filled the air when the Hound had appeared. It wasn’t just rot or decay; it was the smell of something ancient and long dead. The closer it had come, the more overpowering that smell had been, as though the very essence of life around us had been drained away.
I hadn’t realized it at the time, but my magic had sensed it too. The roots had surged up from the earth, seeking something. They had been drawn to the creature, searching for the life force that should have been there but wasn’t. That realization had my skin prickling as shivers raced down my arms, and I rubbed them to try and relieve the uneasy feeling.
The magic inside me wasn’t just connected to the earth. It was connected to life, and this creature, whatever it had been, it was wrong. Its essence was missing . A black void where life should have been. And yet it had moved, and it had fought. But without the spark of a lifeforce.
The word echoed in my mind, and I shivered again, feeling a strange pull within me. Could I sense it? Could I sense the lifeforce of those around me, the way the roots had sensed its absence in the creature? The earth wasn’t just responding to my fear. It had been eager for the power that surged through the Shadow Hound. That frightened me more than anything at how natural it had felt. How instinctive the magic had curled under my grasp, seeking the energy on its own.
The magic inside me had acted without my direction. It had known what to do without my instruction. I hadn’t controlled it. It had controlled me. Swallowing hard, I tried to calm the racing thoughts.
I needed to focus, to find something solid to anchor myself. Five things you can see, I reminded myself.
My eyes darted around the camp. Trees, their gnarled branches reaching for the sky. Rocks scattered near the fire, some jagged, some smooth. A small pile of snacks—a strange assortment of dried meats and fruits Dex had called rations. The endless stretch of the sky, dotted with clouds. Leaves fluttering in the faint breeze, catching the firelight as they swayed.
Four things you can touch . I pressed my fingertips into the cool dirt beneath me, gritty and grounding. My new cloak, rough and worn against my palms. The smooth edge of the wooden bowl resting near my knee. The coarse braid of my hair, the strands tangled and stiff from days without washing.
Three things you can hear. The steady crackle of the fire, rhythmic and soothing. The distant rustle of the forest, as if the trees were whispering secrets. Dex’s low voice somewhere behind me, rumbling softly as he spoke to one of his warriors.
Two things you can smell. The smoky warmth of the fire, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor. The faint, sharp tang of leather from the worn straps of my boots.
One thing you can taste. The lingering saltiness of the dried meat I’d eaten earlier, still clinging faintly to my tongue.
I felt calmer as I returned to my thoughts. There was more to this magic than I realized. I could feel it even now, deep inside me, thrumming quietly, waiting to be called upon. The ability to sense life, to touch it, was there, lurking beneath the surface. It had acted on instinct before, but what if I could learn to control it? What if I could learn to harness it? My chest tightened with a dark curiosity. What would that make me?
I hadn’t immediately recoiled in fear. There had been a moment where something inside me had wanted to fill the void, to claim that energy for myself. The thought made my stomach turn. I had never considered myself capable of something so twisted. This magic didn’t seem to care about morality or intention; it had simply responded to my call, and in that moment, it had wanted to take. To consume.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Dex approaching until he was beside me. He crouched down, his body close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. His golden eyes glowed in the firelight.
"You are scared," Dex said.
"How can I not be? With everything that’s happening. I don’t think I want this."
Dex’s eyes softened, though his expression remained guarded. "Magic doesn’t care what you want. It’s part of who you are. But that doesn’t mean it controls you.”
"And what if it does?” I whispered, my voice trembling.