Page 15 of Bound in Flames (The Savage Hearts #1)

Chapter 15

Cleo

T he morning began with a biting chill, the kind that seeped through clothing and clung to the skin, sharpening the senses as the world slowly stirred awake. Waking up in strong arms had been a new experience for me, and I found myself hesitant to pull free from where my ear was pressed to Dex’s chest, listening to the thrum of his heart. The steady rise and fall of his breaths lulling me back into a languid doze. He was so warm.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach as his giant hands on my waist pulled me tighter against him. He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before rising, and we busied ourselves with extinguishing fires and rolling up our furs in a rush to get back on the road.

Despite the tension surrounding us, the stolen glances and light brushes of Dex’s hand against mine set my pulse racing. Between him and the other orcs’ quiet approval, I sensed that, somehow, I belonged here. I really needed to learn more about their way of life.

We reached the edge of a large clearing, the ground split wide by a gaping ravine that slashed through the landscape like an open wound. Sheer rock walls plunged into darkness, and the faint roar of water echoed far below. The ravine stretched endlessly in either direction, a natural barrier severing the Shadow Lands from the rest of Northern Ostelan. The path forward was in ruins, the remnants of a rope bridge dangling in tatters, a jumbled mess against the jagged rocks.

I froze, my breath catching at the sight. The destruction was deliberate; the torn bridge was too precise, too calculated to be accidental. Did someone know we were coming? A chill ran down my spine as I scanned the area.

The orcs around me muttered curses, their frustration sharp in the tense air. "They’re cutting off our escape," Gornak growled, his voice bitter.

Thorn spat into the dirt, gripping his weapon tightly. The palpable tension rippled through the group, their gazes flicking between the ravine and the dense woods behind us.

Dex’s voice cut through their murmurs, firm and commanding. “We need to find another way across, and quickly.”

My gaze drifted to him, his broad shoulders tense, the golden depths of his eyes sharp as he surveyed the ruins of the bridge. Behind his stoic exterior, I could sense the frustration simmering, his mind racing through possibilities. Magic prickled under my skin, and I knew instinctively that the solution lay within me. I stepped forward, ignoring the orcs’ questioning glances as I knelt at the edge of the ravine.

“Cleo.” Dex’s voice was cautious, laced with a thread of warning. But I didn’t answer, my focus drawn inward. I pressed my palms into the earth, feeling the deep pulse of the land. The hum of magic grew, filling my chest as I reached out, seeking the ancient roots and life buried far below.

My fingers sank into the dirt as power surged from me. It coursed through the ground, a vibrant, thrumming energy. The earth was shifting, buckling as roots twisted and climbed, their movements deliberate, as if they recognized the urgency of my request. Thick branches began to weave together, stretching across the ravine, their roots digging into the far side for purchase.

The warriors fell silent, their earlier curses replaced by a hushed awe as they watched the bridge take form.

The branches continued to grow, intertwining tightly. Following my intuition, I reached deeper, calling to the vines that crept along the nearby trees. They answered, thickening and stretching to wrap around the branches, forming a natural handrail along the bridge, twisting with a strength that belied their appearance.

When the bridge was complete, I staggered to my feet, the hum of magic beneath my skin had quieted to a faint buzz, but the effort had left me breathless. The orcs stared at the bridge, then at me, their expressions a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Gornak muttered, shaking his head in amazement. “By the Gods, she’s powerful.”

“You’re incredible,” Dex murmured as he stepped closer, brushing a thick finger across my cheek.

I managed a weak smile, still catching my breath. “Just trying to help.”

One by one, they began crossing the bridge, their movements cautious but hurried. Dex stayed by my side until the last of his warriors had crossed. His hand took mine as we stepped onto the bridge. Once we reached other side, I turned, looking back at the ravine. The shadows were creeping closer; I could feel their dark pull in the trees, just out of sight. Dropping to my knees, I pressed my hands into the earth, calling on the power once more.

The vines sprouted razor sharp thorns, twisting into a barrier that knotted across the edge of the ravine and onto the bridge. The magic obeyed my command with a ferocity that surprised even me, the plants coiling tightly around rocks and roots to form a nearly impenetrable razor sharp wall.

I stood slowly, brushing dirt from my palms. “That should slow them down.”

Gornak’s gaze softened, respect shadowing his features. “You did well, girl.”

I didn’t respond, but his words lingered, their weight settling heavily on my shoulders. The group pressed onward, and Dex’s hand found the small of my back, a quiet gesture of affection. His warmth seeped through the layers of exhaustion clinging to me, grounding me in the present.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice carrying a quiet concern.

I nodded, though the weariness crept into my limbs. “I’m fine, just tired.”

“You’re doing more than we ever thought was possible.” His words were thick with admiration, as he offered me his hand once more.

I shot him an easy smile, my heart swelling at his words. I could feel my defenses crumbling under his constant support and appreciation. How had I gone from facing execution to standing here beside this orc Chieftain? And yet, the thought didn’t fill me with dread but with gratitude. A strange, quiet gratitude for the twist of fate that had brought me here.

Taking his offered hand, I felt an unexpected energy radiate through me. The touch was steady, as though it carried a silent promise that we would face whatever came next, together. Ahead, the path grew steeper, the air colder, the shadows of the forest lessening into like a living, watchful force. I took a deep breath before turning to follow the warriors up the steep incline, heading up into the mountains.

The Black Mountains loomed closer with every step and were a world apart from the south, where cities like Knight’s Hold thrived in carefully cultivated order. The great river that split the continent felt like more than a geographic divide—it was a line that separated two different worlds. South of the river, humans lived in blissful ignorance, untouched by the true wildness of the North. It was no wonder that most southerners had never seen an orc in their lifetime. The path grew steeper, the air colder, but the orcs pushed forward with determination. As we climbed, Gornak spoke quietly to the others, his voice a deep rumble in the stillness of the night.

“These valleys were once ours,” he said, his gaze swept over the landscape. “We ruled these forests before the humans drove us out, before they pushed us into the Black Mountains like animals. This land was ours by birthright.”

One of the younger orcs, a warrior named Kaldor, nodded solemnly. “I’ve heard the stories, but I’ve never seen it with my own eyes. Not from this vantage point.”

Gornak’s expression darkened, his voice thick with anger. “You’ve only known the mountains as our home because that’s all the humans left us. We were prosperous once. We walked these forests and valleys as free orcs, not cowed and forced to trade with our oppressors. Disrespected and treated like scum as we move along the sanctioned trade routes.”

I listened in silence, the weight of their words sinking in. The orcs had been driven from their lands, forced into the exile by humans who saw them as nothing more than beasts.

Dex’s gaze remained fixed on the path ahead. “One day, we’ll walk these forests as free orcs.” His voice was quiet, almost wistful.

Our party fell silent, but I could feel the weight of those words hanging in the air, a silent promise of a future they had long been denied. I could see the pain that clouded their eyes as they spoke of their connection to the valleys, and what had been stolen from them.

The mountain path grew narrower, the cold wind biting at my skin with every step. I felt the earth beneath me, steady and strong, guiding us forward. The magic was still there, humming beneath the surface, swirling around the orcs like a loving caress.

Gornak, who had taken the lead, slowed his pace to drop back alongside me, allowing his deep, rumbling voice to carry back to the rest of the warriors. Turning his head, he addressed the younger orcs who walked nearby, and I noticed the reverence on their faces as they hung on his every word.

“This land wasn’t always so still; there were no Shadow Lands,” he said, his voice thick with memory. “The forests were alive with the sounds of our people—strong, proud, and united.”

“Tell us about it, Gornak, I know you have had the visions,” Kaldor urged. “I’ve heard the stories, but I want to know what it was really like. What did we lose?”

My face must have read as confusion, as Dex leaned in to whisper to me softly. “A warrior’s coming of age involves joining with the earth. Our power is not the same as yours, however, some of us are gifted. Gornak saw our history. Our Seer has visions of what has yet come to pass.”

I nodded my understanding, amazed at the wealth of knowledge I was learning about the orc clans in just a few days.

His eyes were distant, as though he could still see the lands they had lost. “The rivers once flowed beneath great stone strongholds, bridges of such craftsmanship no race has been able to match. They spanned the rivers like arms outstretched, connecting our settlements. We built fortresses into the cliff face, so high above the water that they seemed to touch the sky.”

“The walls were impenetrable,” one of the older orcs, Ograk, added, his voice rough with age. “Solid stone, reinforced with magic—our magic. Not the kind the human mages wield, but magic that came from the earth, from the stones themselves. Wild magic not unlike yours, shaman. We lived in harmony with the land, and it gave us its strength.”

My steps slowed as I took in their words, a quiet ache building inside me. The orcs weren’t just warriors, not just the fierce and strong race I had always imagined them to be. They were builders, traders, and farmers. They had been masters of the land.

Gornak continued, his voice taking on a rhythmic cadence as he recalled their way of life. “In the forests, we built hunting hides in the canopies—great platforms woven into the branches high above the ground, where our warriors would wait for the game to pass. We could move through the forest without a sound, using the trees as cover. The forest was our hunting ground, our sanctuary.”

Kaldor’s eyes shone with interest. “I didn’t know we had lived in the trees!”

Gornak nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Aye, we were one with the trees. We had hunting blinds and watchtowers hidden among the branches. No one could move through these forests without us knowing.”

There was a pride in his voice, but it was tinged with sorrow—sorrow for what they had lost.

“But the humans came.” Gornak’s voice hardened, the warmth draining away. “The Silver Hand came with their mages and their knights, with their armies of steel and fire. We fought with everything we had.”

“The first wave wasn’t so bad,” Ograk added, his tone dark. “They underestimated us. They thought we were nothing but savages. We drove them back, time and again. But then they brought their darkest magic, and cursed illnesses that ran through the clans.”

The air seemed to grow colder as the conversation shifted. Even the forest around us seemed to hold its breath, as though it, too, remembered the war that had scarred this land.

“The dark mages,” Gornak spat, his lip curling in disgust. “Their magic wasn’t like ours. It wasn’t born from the earth, from the stones and trees. It was something else—something darker and unnatural. They wielded death. Magic that consumed everything in its path.”

I felt a chill creep down my spine as I listened. The magic of the earth, the lifeforce that pulsed through the soil beneath my feet, was strong and steady, but I could feel the echoes of that other magic. The kind that sought only to corrupt and consume.

“Then came the knights.” Gornak’s voice dropped, heavy with memory. “They rode in and they never stopped. Our warriors fought with honor, but the humans... they didn’t care about honor. They didn’t care about the land or the people who lived on it.”

“Their goal was to take it all,” Ograk said bitterly. “To wipe us out, or push us out of Ostelan. We fought for every last inch. Until the rivers ran red with blood. But the humans outnumbered us. They brought wave after wave, more knights, more mages, and we?—”

He paused, his jaw clenched tightly. I thought he might stop speaking altogether, but then he took a deep breath and continued. “We knew we couldn’t win. Not in the end. So, the clans rode out to meet the Silver Hand, to give our people a chance to flee. I saw them kissing their wives and children goodbye, knowing they were going to certain death,” Gornak said quietly, his voice thick with grief. “A group of our oldest warriors stayed with the Chieftains in battle, holding the line long enough for the Chieftains’ mates to lead the clans back to their homelands, flanked by their personal guard. They all knew they were going to die. They gave their lives so that the rest of their clans could live.”

I swallowed hard, the full weight of their sacrifice settling heavily in my chest. The orcs hadn’t just lost their land. They had lost their people, their culture, their way of life. And they had been forced into hiding because of it. My throat burned with unshed tears as I could imagine the despair as they ran for their lives.

“The Blackfoot Clan retreated to the mountains,” Ograk continued, his voice quieter now. “The humans didn’t follow us here. They thought we were broken, that we were beaten. They left us in these rocky caves to rot , thinking we would wither and die.”

“But we survived,” Dex said, his voice filled with quiet defiance. “We rebuilt, but we never forgot what was taken from us. We never forgot the price we paid.”

I could hear the pride in his voice, but also the bitterness—the anger that still simmered just beneath the surface. Humans had tried to massacre them, and now they were another race fighting to survive, clinging to the remnants of their former glory.

Kaldor glanced at his Chieftain, his brow furrowed. “Do you think we’ll ever reclaim what we lost?”

Dex didn’t answer right away, his gaze sweeping over the forest below, the trees that had once been their sanctuary. “Maybe,” he said finally, his voice low as he glanced at me. “Maybe one day. But we’ll need more than just strength to do it. We’ll need allies, and we’ll need the land to fight with us.”

The land. The earth. The lifeforce that pulsed beneath our feet.

I glanced down at my hands, feeling the magic humming just beneath the surface of my skin. Me? The land had always been with them, hadn’t it? The orcs had fought with the earth at their side, drawing strength from it, just as I did now.

“You’re not alone,” I said quietly, the words slipping from my mouth before I could stop them. “The land is still with you. It hasn’t forgotten; it’s energy follows you.”

Gornak’s gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing. I thought he might brush my words aside, but then he nodded slowly. “Maybe,” he murmured. “Maybe you’re right.”

We continued on, the mountain path growing steeper, the cold air biting at my skin with every step. I could feel the pulse of the earth beneath me, steady and strong. The orcs had lost so much—more than I could ever imagine—but they had survived. And now, with the magic inside me, I felt a strange sense of responsibility to help them. Could I do that without turning my back on my own people?

The mountain rose before us, its shadow growing with each step, a silent sentinel of stone. Dex’s hand brushed against mine again, a silent reassurance that he was there, by my side. Our eyes met, the determination in his a mirror of my own.

I felt the pulse of the earth beneath me, steady and sure. The past couldn’t be undone; its scars were etched deep into the land and its people. But perhaps, with time, those scars could become part of a new foundation. Maybe we could begin to heal what had been broken, to grow something new from the ashes of destruction.

Dex’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and filled with conviction. “I’m proud to call you my mate. Your spirit is strong. Your courage to confront the lies you were raised with is remarkable.”

His words washed over me like a tide, swelling a warmth in my chest that no cold mountain air could touch. There was a tenderness in the way he held on, as though I were something precious.

“Dex, you give me too much credit. I understand what it’s like to suffer, to feel powerless. I don’t want anyone to feel that way.”

His grip tightened, his expression darkening with an intensity that sent a shiver through me, before he pulled me into his arms. “No one will ever lay a hand on you again, Cleo. That, I can promise.”

I let out a soft scoff, sinking into his embrace, greedily taking the solace he so willingly gave. “You can’t promise that, Dex. But I appreciate you for wanting to.”

His hands gripped my shoulders with a bruising intensity as he pulled me back.His golden eyes burned, molten with fury, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack stone. My breath caught as he scanned my face, his presence overwhelming.

“I can,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my chest. “And I will. I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands, drain every drop of blood from their bodies, and feed it to the earth before I let them so much as touch you.”

His words should have terrified me, the violence of his promise something no sane person would wish to hear. But instead, it fed a flickering ember deep inside me, stoking it into a roaring flame. A soft, involuntary sound escaped my lips, the need pooling low in my stomach as I absorbed the sheer possessiveness in his tone. His dominance, his protectiveness, left me trembling with an overwhelming desire that threatened to consume me.

Dex’s towering frame leaned closer, his hands sliding to my hips as though he owned every inch of me. The roughness of his large palms against my skin sent a jolt through me, and the heat of his breath brushed my ear as he spoke again, softer but no less commanding. “You’re mine, Cleo. No one will ever take you from me.”

I didn’t trust my voice, my body too caught in the electrifying pull of him, so I nodded, my fingers curling into the leather of his armor as though to keep myself grounded. He tilted my chin up, thumb brushing across my jaw as he studied me with an intensity that sent my heart hammering in my chest.

His lips claimed mine with a deliberate slowness, coaxing rather than demanding. The kiss wasn’t just passion. It was a vow of devotion, of protection. His tusks grazed my skin, the faint scrape a thrilling reminder of just how different we were.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath uneven, his golden eyes searching mine as though seeking something only I could provide. “You’re my mate. Mine , understand?” he murmured, his voice raw with honesty.

I exhaled shakily, the weight of his words settling deep into my chest. How had this fierce warrior become my sanctuary in a matter of days? How had I, a human girl destined to be cast aside, become his?

We stood there, tangled in each other, until the world crept back in—the murmurs of the orcs as they shifted uncomfortably a short distance away, attempting to give us what little privacy they could on this mountain path. Reluctantly, we parted, his hand slipping back into mine as we fell into step once more.

The orcs walked with a quiet determination, their steps steady despite the steep climb. I could feel their resolve humming through the ground like a drumbeat. Hope flared in my chest. We were retreating to Blackfoot Clan territory, but I knew the battles ahead would not stop at the mountains’ edge. Dex’s hand brushed mine again, a silent reassurance, and I glanced at him. The determination in his eyes barely overshadowed the desire that lurked in their depths. I knew, without a doubt, that I needed to help them.

“We’re close,” Gornak said, his deep voice cutting through the cold silence. He pointed ahead to where the mist parted, revealing a narrow path winding upward toward the jagged cliffs. “The cave entrance is just beyond those rocks. Once we’re inside, we’ll be safe from the humans, at least for now.”

Relief surged through me at the sight of the narrow path ahead, promising shelter from the cold. My legs were trembling from the effort, and the icy air burned in my lungs, each breath a struggle, but I forced myself to keep going. I had come too far to falter now.

As we neared the path, low murmurs rippled through the group, their voices barely carrying over the gusting wind, tinged with the weariness of the journey. Kaldor glanced at me, his sharp eyes studying my face.

His gaze settled on me, curiosity in his eyes. “You’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind, human?”

I blinked, surprised by the question. The orcs hadn’t asked much about me since I’d joined them, likely more concerned with survival than small talk. But now that we were nearing their stronghold, it seemed they were finally relaxing.

I paused, words catching in my throat, uncertain how much to reveal. “I’ve just been thinking,” I said carefully, “about everything that’s happened.”

Kaldor snorted. “A lot’s happened, that’s for sure. But you’ve been through a lot too. What about your life before all this? What was it like? You don’t seem like the type of human we usually encounter.”

I glanced at Dex, who gave me a small nod of encouragement. My old life seemed like a distant memory, blurred and fading. It was strange to think about how much had changed in so little time.

“I grew up in a family that owned farmland in Sleek Valley,” I began slowly, the words feeling foreign on my tongue now. “My mother died when I was younger, and my father turned to liquor and gambling to fill the void she left behind.”

Ograk had been listening quietly, an eyebrow raised as he joined our conversation. “He didn’t care for his own young?”

I exhaled, feeling the familiar weight of resentment settle over me. “My father wasn’t a kind man. He was cruel. He didn’t care about anyone but himself when he gambled away our fields, our livestock, and eventually, my dowry. He was negotiating my betrothal to a merchant in exchange to clear his debts.”

The orcs listened, their eyes narrowing as I continued. “To him, I was nothing more than a tool to be wielded for his own ends. He wasn’t shy about showing it, either. He made sure I knew exactly what my place was. Punished and beat me if I ever forgot. He blamed me for our mother taking ill.”

Thorn let out a low grunt, his expression darkening. “That sounds like a familiar story,” he muttered. “Humans love their power games. They love to think they can control everything.”

“That’s exactly what it was.” A bitter edge crept into my voice, each word feeling like a confession I had long buried. “Control. Everything in my life was decided for me. I sold the last pieces of my mother’s jewelry for his damn debts.”

Kaldor frowned. “Sounds like the Gods were at play when they put you in the Chieftain’s path. I’m sorry you had to grow up under a cruel hand.”

I nodded. The memory of that day was still sharp in my mind. “Even if he didn’t call for the guards to arrest me for channeling to defend myself, I wouldn’t have been able to stay there. I had wanted to find a way out for a while.”

Ograk gave a small grunt of approval. “Good on you, girl. It takes guts to leave that kind of life behind.”

Dex’s expression softened. “Learning control is the most important thing right now for you, and then you get to decide who you want to be.”

A hollow laugh escaped me. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free as I have in the last few days.”

The orcs exchanged glances, their expressions softening. Gornak, who had been listening from the front, glanced back at me, his gaze thoughtful. “Freedom.” He muttered the word, almost reverently. “It’s something we’ve all fought for. It’s something most humans don’t understand.”

The truth of his words settled deep inside me. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t being forced into a role I didn’t want. I wasn’t someone’s bargaining chip, someone’s pawn. I was free. And more than that, I was wanted. I wasn’t an outsider here. I wasn’t judged for the magic I possessed or for the choices I had made. The orcs had accepted me with little reservations, and in their world, I had found a place where I could finally be myself.

“I suppose that’s why I’m so drawn to the land,” I said, my voice quieter now. “It’s the one thing no one could control. It’s the only thing I have ever had for myself, even if I didn’t know it truly until a few days ago.”

Kaldor tilted his head, his eyes curious. “The magic in you is different from anything I’ve ever seen. The way you control the earth, the way it responds to you is special.”

The orcs fell silent, their expressions thoughtful. They had seen my magic in action, but now, they were beginning to understand that my power was something more than just a tool. It was part of me, part of who I was.

“It’s a rare gift,” Ograk muttered. “A gift that could change a lot of things.”

“If it’s as special as you say, I want to use it to help as many as I can.”

I understood why the orcs had fought so fiercely to hold this land. It wasn’t just territory; it was a piece of who they were. The forests weren’t empty of life, as so many southerners assumed. It was alive, and it remembered the orcs. But that memory wasn’t enough to heal what had been broken.

Gornak, who had been listening with a contemplative expression, nodded slowly. “You will. There’s power in the land, power that’s been lost to most of us. But you are a conduit for it. You can bring it back.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine with the weight of responsibility that came with them. I had always known there was something different about me, something that set me apart from other humans. But now, standing among the orcs, I felt it.

The back of my hand brushed against Dex’s fingers again, a quiet reminder that I wasn’t alone in this. He gave me a warm smile. “You’re already making a difference. Just by being here.”

Beyond the jagged rocks ahead was a cave entrance. A gateway to whatever awaited me in the Black Mountain’s depths. Gornak slowed, his gaze scanning the dark, jagged cliffs ahead. “This is it,” he said gruffly. “The caves will take us to the stronghold. Once we’re inside, we’ll be safe.”

Despite the chill, I felt a strange sense of comfort here, as though the earth itself was welcoming us. It felt like home.