Page 14 of Bound in Flames (The Savage Hearts #1)
Chapter 14
Cleo
I woke to the sensation of warmth, a steady, pulsing heat that radiated from the body beside mine. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and I wasn’t sure where I was. Everything felt distant, muffled, as if I were submerged in water. My body ached, every muscle weak and trembling like I’d been torn apart and pieced back together.
Slowly, my senses returned, and with them came the memory of what had happened. The figure. The darkness. It all came flooding back in a rush, and with it, the overwhelming exhaustion that had dragged me under. I remembered pushing myself too far, the blood that had poured from my eyes and nose as I funneled the magic to protect the them. The pain had been unbearable, the magic too wild to control.
I struggled to move, but my limbs were leaden and unresponsive. Every part of me felt weighed down, like I was trapped beneath layers of stone. The warmth beside me shifted, and I felt a strong hand close around mine, steadying me. The familiar heat of that touch sent a wave of relief through me, quietening the rising panic, and I turned my head toward it, managing to pry my eyes open.
Dex sat beside me, his gaze piercing, and there was a tightness in his expression that I hadn’t seen before. His hand was warm and solid around mine, his grip firm but gentle, like he was afraid I might break if he held on too tightly. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles were coiled like springs, ready to snap.
“Cleo.” His voice was low and rough, a thread of worry woven through it. "You’re finally awake."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry and raw. "What happened?"
His grip tightened before he released me, running a hand roughly through his hair. “You nearly killed yourself. You channeled too much power, more than your body could handle.”
I shuddered, the memories rushing back. The figure’s darkness had been unlike anything I had felt. It had reached for their lifeforce, sucking the very existence from their veins. It had taken everything to keep myself—and them—alive.
"Where is everyone?” My voice cracked, breaking on the words. “Are they okay?”
Dex glanced toward the fire on the other side of the clearing, his brow furrowing. "My warriors are tired but otherwise fine. Some are scouting the area. The others are resting. You have been unconscious for a full day."
A shuddering breath escaped me, relief loosening the tightness in my chest. "Wait… a whole day?" I tried to sit up, but the world tilted, spinning violently, and I sank back into the blankets with a groan.
Dex was immediately there, his hand resting gently on my shoulder, his touch steadying me. "Easy," he said, his voice soft. "You’re not ready to be up. You need rest.”
I closed my eyes, fighting the wave of dizziness that threatened to pull me under again. "I’m fine," I muttered, though the tremble in my voice betrayed me. "I just... I didn’t realize it would take so much out of me."
Dex let out a soft, humorless laugh. "You think? You nearly bled out from your eyes, Cleo. That’s not fine. You think you’re invincible, don’t you?”
The edge in his voice surprised me. I opened my eyes again and turned to face him, but his gaze was distant. His jaw was clenched, his muscles tight with barely restrained frustration. “Why are you so angry?” My whisper barely reached him.
Dex’s eyes snapped back to mine, and he looked as though he might argue, might deflect. But then he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head.
"I’m not angry," he said quietly. "I’m..." He trailed off, running a hand over his face. " I don’t know what I feel. Watching you out there, seeing what you did, knowing how close you came to..." His composure cracked, worry etched into every line of his face. "It scared me."
His words struck me, stealing the air from my lungs. Dex was scared?
I didn’t think Dex could be scared of anything. He was the definition of control, always calm and steadfast, no matter the dangers we had faced. But now, seeing the way his eyes roamed my face, I realized that I wasn’t the only one shaken by what had happened.
"Dex," I murmured, reaching out to touch his hand. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—"
"Don’t," he cut me off, his voice sharper than before. "No more apologies. You did what had to be done and you saved all of us. But you have to stop risking yourself. Your life as a shaman is more important than ours.”
"I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.” My voice was instantly defensive, a plea for understanding. “If I hadn’t done something, they would have died. That thing was trying to suck the life out of them! I had to stop it."
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean. Could you feel it?”
I hesitated, unsure how to explain it—how to put into words the terrifying sensations I had felt. I wasn’t even sure I understood them myself. But Dex deserved to know. And more than that, I needed him to know. I trusted him, and I needed to say it out loud, to make sense of it.
I lowered my gaze, my fingers nervously twisting the edge of the blanket. "I... I don’t fully understand it yet," I admitted, my voice small. "But every time those shadows appear I can feel something dark.” I glanced up at him, my heart racing in my chest. "It’s like... like the air changes. Everything gets colder, and there’s this... smell. It’s the smell of death, of decay. I can feel it crawling through the air, reaching for everything with an energy source. It’s like I can see it—this darkness seeping into them, pulling the very essence of life out of their bodies."
Dex’s expression tightened, his golden eyes narrowing as he listened intently. "You can feel it trying to take their lifeforce?"
I nodded, the words tumbling out faster now, the dam breaking. "Yes. It’s like I can see the threads of their lifeforce being pulled away, as if something is sucking it right out of them. And it’s not just that I can feel it—it’s like it calls to me."
I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, my hands trembling as I spoke. "There’s this pull," I continued, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Like a dark seduction. It feels... wrong, but also... I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like it wants me to reach for it, like it’s whispering to me to take it. And I’m terrified of what that means."
Dex was eerily still as he processed my confession, eyes remaining locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart pound even harder.
"I know it sounds insane," I said quickly, my throat tight. "But it’s the truth. When I push back with my magic, it feels like I’m battling something inside myself as much as I’m battling whatever’s out there. I can feel the temptation to reach for that darkness; it whispers promises of incredible power. It scares me."
I closed my eyes, the weight of my confession pressing down on me like a physical force. My hands trembled and I clutched the blanket tighter. I couldn’t lose myself to that darkness. I didn’t want to turn into something twisted and evil. I could feel Dex’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Shame coiled in my gut, twisting like a knife.
After what felt like an eternity, Dex finally spoke.
"Cleo…” His voice was low, rough, but there was a softness to it. I opened my eyes, surprised to find him closer than before, his hand reaching out to gently cup my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, his intensity sending shivers down my spine in response. “You’re not going to lose yourself to this. You’re stronger than whatever darkness is calling to you."
I blinked back tears, my breath catching in my throat. "How do you know that?"
"Because I’ve seen you fight," he replied, his thumb brushing lightly across my jawline. "I’ve seen you protect the people around you, even when it nearly killed you. You are different, Cleo. And I’ll be damned if I let you fall to whatever this thing is."
His words washed over me, steadying the storm of emotions that had been raging inside. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, that made me believe him. As if I wasn’t alone in this battle.
"I don’t know what’s happening to me," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "But I know it’s getting stronger. I can feel it growing inside me, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it at bay."
Dex’s hand slid from my chin to my cheek, his touch warm and grounding. “We all fight a darkness inside. I won’t let you fight it alone.”
His words struck a chord deep inside me, and I felt my chest tighten with a mix of relief. I hadn’t realized how much I needed someone to stand by me, to believe in me, even when I couldn’t believe in myself. I leaned into his touch, my heart racing as I let the warmth of his hand seep into my skin. For a moment, the fear faded, replaced by a sense of calm.
But even as I found comfort in his presence, I couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that hung in the back of my mind. The darkness inside me was growing, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I could feel it pulling me closer, whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could resist forever, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it from swallowing me whole. I realized that Dex wasn’t just protecting me because of my power. There was something in him, something broken, that recognized the fear inside me.
“You fight a darkness too?” I asked. The question felt like a thread pulling on the fabric of something bigger.
Dex’s fingers left mine as he sat heavily next to me. He pulled his dagger from his belt, the sharp edge catching the firelight, runes glowing softly in his giant palm. Then, as if driven by an old habit, he began twirling it between his fingers, his movements smooth and deliberate. His golden eyes flicked to mine, then away, shadowed by something I couldn’t quite name.
“Seven years ago, the night I became Chieftain, was the night I got this dagger.”
I stayed silent, sensing that interrupting would break the fragile tether of his words.
“I’d survived five days in the Shadow Lands, and brought back the pelt of a Hound. I then defeated my opponent in combat, securing my title. The clan had gathered to watch me take the oath, a rare celebration outside of our strongholds. We were in the middle of a sacred rite, the final ceremony to crown the next Chieftain, when we were ambushed.”
“By who?” I whispered.
“The Ostelan Crown. The Silver Hand was sent by the King to make sure we never gained a new leader. They attacked in the middle of the rite, arrows raining down before we even knew what was happening. They were always cowards.” His words were laced with venom as the blade twirled faster now between his fingers. “They didn’t care who they killed. Elders, women, children… They wanted to leave us broken. Remind us of our place.”
Dex’s hand stilled, the blade glinting in the firelight as he tightened his grip on the hilt, and his voice turned thick with emotion that spoke of heartache, and a fury hotter than fire. “My sister, Urla, saved me that night. Shoved me out of the way of a crossbow bolt that should’ve killed me. She took it herself.”
I could hear the fire crackling between us, but its warmth did nothing to ease the chill settling in my stomach.
“I tried to save her,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I held her as she bled out, and still she told me to get up. To keep fighting. To be the warrior she trained me to be.”
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling as I asked, “What did you do?”
Dex looked at me then, his molten gold eyes burning with something raw and unguarded. “I got up and we killed them all—every last one of them who thought they could break us.”
He exhaled, dragging a hand over his face before letting the blade twirl in his fingers again. “That night, I took the oath of Chieftain not because I wanted to, but because I had to. The clan needed someone to lead us to a better future, one without fear and oppression under the Crown’s wrath.”
“Dex...” I started, but the words failed me. What could I say to that kind of loss?
“The rage fueled me in battle as I tore them apart… but a good Chieftain cannot rule by emotion and keep his people safe. I swore I wouldn’t let emotions drive me again. My sister raised me after my mother passed, and she made sure to teach me that a real leader who lets his feelings rule him isn’t a leader at all. She knew what this life required—sacrifice, strength, and control. I buried everything that night. For the clan and for her.”
I wanted to reach out, to take his hand, but something in his expression stopped me. The war of emotions in his eyes had me still, allowing him the time to work through them.
He let out a shaky laugh, shaking his head. “You remind me of her. Urla always said I carried the world on my shoulders, but never in my heart. She was right. And you...” He paused, his eyes meeting mine. “What do you know about orc way of life?”
“Almost nothing, honestly.” My words were a whisper as shame prickled against my skin.
“We share a connection, you and I. Something rare even among my people. Sacred. You are more than just a shaman to me, Cleo; you are my mate. Chosen by fate for me .”
The words left me breathless as I saw the weight he carried more clearly than ever. “Dex, I?—”
“You feel it too, the pull between us?” he asked, his tone softening.
Yes! I wanted to scream, unloading all the frustrations of feeling like I was fighting something inside of me that wanted to be touching him, being held by him. All I could do was nod in response, too afraid to speak as emotion burned the back of my throat.
Dex’s smile was genuine as he leaned over, crowding me against the furs, and pressed his forehead to mine. His thumb stroked against my cheek reverently, and his deep huffing breath grazed the side of my neck, making me shudder. Then he pulled back to gaze into my eyes.
“I’m blessed by the Gods to have met you, Cleo.”
Wrapping my hand around the back of his head, I urged him closer to me, desperate for another taste of his lips. The memory of our last kiss had plagued my every waking moment, an intoxicating echo I couldn’t resist any longer.
His lips met mine, the touch tentative at first. The warmth of his lips contrasted with the slight roughness of his tusks grazing my skin. It was grounding, adding a rough edge to the delicate moment. The sensation sent a ripple of warmth through me as his hand moved to cradle my jaw. The kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic, his breath mingled with mine as the world narrowed around us.
Too soon he pulled back with a chuckle, prying my hand from his head and pressing a chaste kiss against my fingers, cradling them close as his eyes fluttered shut. I was frozen, overwhelmed by the tenderness of the gesture.
The warmth of him seeped into my skin. In his presence, the chaos of my magic and the darkness that lingered seemed to fade, leaving behind only a quiet sense of belonging. His presence anchored me, dissolving that ache of loneliness and replacing it with a quiet certainty.
“You need to rest.” His voice was quiet but resolute.
I nodded, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. This fragile peace couldn’t last. The darkness we faced was far from defeated.
He laid by my side and tucked me in tightly to his body, shielding me from the cool night. His warmth radiated through me, easing the ache in my muscles and quieting the storm of thoughts in my mind. I felt cocooned, safe in a way I hadn’t been in years. But as his steady breathing filled the quiet, a bittersweet realization settled over me that this fleeting sense of peace couldn’t last.
I let myself sink into him, exhaustion tugging me under once more. But even as sleep claimed me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was stirring. Whatever was coming, I wasn’t sure either of us was ready.