Page 29 of Bound in Flames (The Savage Hearts #1)
Chapter 29
Cleo
I eased back, clinging desperately to the fragile thread of control as emotions surged beneath my skin like a storm threatening to break free. Below, the warm glow of fires illuminated the terraces, and orcs were bustling with the rhythm of an evening steeped in resilience. The sharp clang of metal pierced the air as warriors sharpened their blades. Children’s laughter echoed through the air, a fleeting innocence that seemed too delicate to exist against the ever-present shadows gathering in the valley below.
They were a proud, strong people, and yet there was an undeniable fragility woven into the fabric of their existence. The weight of their survival sat on my shoulders—a burden I hadn’t asked for but couldn’t shake. They looked to me, their shaman, to protect them. They believed I could save them.
“They trust too much in the prophecy,” I murmured, my eyes fixed on the children chasing one another across the terraces. “They put too much faith in me.”
Dex’s presence was a solid, steady warmth beside me, his golden eyes reflecting the firelight as he watched me. He didn’t speak right away, and when he did, his voice carried the weight of unspoken truths. “The prophecy is important to our people,” he began, his words careful. “Shamans have always been central to our survival, to the balance we keep with the earth. But that doesn’t mean the orcs can’t fight their own battles. We’ve been fighting long before you came here, and we’ll keep fighting.”
I turned to him, half of his face was hidden in shadow, but his eyes burned intensely. “The prophecy… it’s just a guide. But you—” Dex’s voice was sharp, his gaze piercing as he looked at me“—You’re real. They believe in you because you’ve given them reason to.”
I had spent so much of my life running from who I was, how could I be the one to bring balance to a world teetering on the edge? It felt impossible and it infuriated me. My anger sparked defiance—a small, stubborn flame that was tired of watching people suffer. If I couldn’t find strength in myself, I’d need to find it in the faces of those who believed.
“They don’t see what I see. They don’t see the darkness that lives inside me, waiting to take over. They see someone strong, someone who can save them, but I don’t know if I can be that person. Sometimes my magic feelings like its corrupted”
Dex took my hand, his voice was softer than I’d expected as he tried to sooth my doubts. “They don’t see the darkness because it doesn’t define you. You’ve shown them strength—not just with your magic, but with who you are. You’ve healed them, fought for them, given them hope. That’s what they believe in, Cleo. Not a prophecy. You .”
The raw conviction in his voice took my breath away, but it was the vulnerability beneath it that struck me hardest. I saw a flicker of fear buried deep behind the protective walls he built around himself. He was terrified of losing this fight, of watching me be consumed by the same darkness that had taken so much from his people. It wasn’t just the prophecy that haunted him—it was me.
“You’re scared too,” I said softly, my fingers tightening around his. It wasn’t a question, and the slight flicker in his gaze told me I was right.
He pressed his lips into a thin line, and I thought he might deny it, but he exhaled shakily and tugged me into his side. “Of course I am. You think I don’t see the burden you’re carrying? The way it eats at you, the way it makes you doubt yourself? You think I don’t feel it every time you pull away, every time you look at me?”
Gods, I was so sick of crying, of feeling like I was out of control. I’ve never felt so weak as I did in this moment, his words burrowed deep into my heart and I couldn’t stop the tears that burned at the corners of my eyes.
“I’m scared of losing you,” he continued, his voice breaking on the words. “I’m scared of watching you slip away, of not being able to protect you. I’m scared of the prophecy, of the darkness, of all of it, but I’m mostly scared of you giving up on yourself.”
The rawness in his voice splintered something inside me, and I swallowed hard, my chest tight. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to the overwhelming emotions roiling inside. I reached for him desperately, my hand trembling as I touched his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. His golden eyes burned, and I felt the strength of his emotions like a tidal wave crashing over me.
“I’m scared too,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”
“You won’t,” Dex said fiercely, his grip tight on my waist. “You’re stronger than you think, Cleo. You’re an orc shaman—your strength comes from the earth and your clan. Whatever happens, we’ll be right beside you. I’ll be right beside you.”
His words should have eased the weight on my chest, but they didn’t. Every mention of the prophecy, every declaration of faith, felt like another chain around my heart. How could I live up to their expectations when I couldn’t even believe in myself to not hurt them. But as I looked into Dex’s eyes, seeing the fear, the love and the desperation swirling there, and I realized he wasn’t asking me to be perfect. He wasn’t asking me to carry this alone. He was just asking me to try . And maybe, that was enough.
I entered our room late that evening, the scent of the gardens still clinging to me after several hours of meditation. I found Dex already inside, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. The moment his eyes met mine, the tension in his body softened, his gaze holding the kind of warmth I had come to crave in these private moments, studying me in a way that felt like he saw straight through me, unraveling my every thought.
“Feel better?” he asked, his voice a low, rough rumble that rolled over my skin like distant thunder.
I nodded, sinking onto a stool, exhaustion creeping through my limbs. “I’m starting to think I’ll never stop doubting myself.”
Dex pushed off the wall with a slow, predatory grace, crossing the room to stand behind me. His hands settled on my shoulders, the heat of his palms seeping through the fabric of my dress.
“You will. Give yourself some grace, this is all still very new for you.”
I angled my head back to look at my mate, feeling the familiar swell of affection rise within me. This man was a force of nature that had become my anchor in a world constantly threatening to pull me under.
“How can you be so sure?”
His lips curved into the smallest smile, and he leaned over me, pressing his lips to my nose in a quick peck. His sweet affection was a delicious conflict to his possessive nature. “Because I’ve seen your strength. And if you ever doubt it, pull from mine.”
A soft smile tugged at my lips, and I reached up, my fingers tracing the edge of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. “What did I do to deserve you?”
His chuckle was quick, his breath fanning against my cheek. “I ask myself the same question every day.”
I sighed into him, letting his arms wrap around me from behind, his solid chest pressing against my back. His embrace felt like home. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of us in the quiet hum of our connection.
I met his gaze over my shoulder, and the intensity in his golden eyes sent a delicious shiver down my spine. There was no mask here, no warlord or Chieftain, just Dex. The orc who claimed every inch of my heart.
His fingers traced a featherlight path up my bare arm, leaving a scorching heat in their wake. "My precious mate." I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, letting the words wrap around me.
“I’m here.” My voice was a whisper, a promise.
Dex leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against my temple, lingering there as if memorizing the feel of me beneath him. His hands found my waist, his thumbs pressing in slow, soothing circles that pulled me deeper into him. He my skin ablaze with such a simple touch, a fire simmering beneath the surface.
Pulling me up into his arms effortlessly, and I rest my hands against his chest, feeling the powerful beat of his heart beneath my palms. That steady pulse was all I needed in this moment. My doubts melted, replaced by the overwhelming need to be closer, to drown in his touch.
His thumb grazed my lower lip with agonizing slowness, and I watched as hunger clouded his eyes. The anticipation between us stretched, thick and heady, until I could no longer stand it. I leaned in, brushing my lips over his, tentative at first, testing. He was quick to deepen the kiss, his tongue battling mine a with a passion that had heat pooling low in my core.
His mouth moved against mine, teasing, claiming, and I felt myself surrendering completely as his hands roamed my curves, tracing my spine, pulling me impossibly closer until there was no space left between us. I gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his responding growl vibrating through me, low and possessive.
His grip shifted and rough palms slid under my dress, to skim up my thighs, leaving a wicked fire in their wake. Goosebumps skittered across my skin and I arched against him, seeking more. I was desperate for more of his touches, for the way he made me feel cherished and desired all at once.
Dex pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breathing uneven. "I love you.” he whispered.
My chest tightened, the words sinking into my soul. "I love you too," I murmured, threading my fingers through his hair, holding him close.
With a worshiping touch that left me breathless, he lifted me in his arms and took quick strides to the bed, his hands exploring every inch of me as though I were something sacred. His touch soothed the tension I carried, each caress melting away my doubts, replacing them with an aching need.
Dex trailed his mouth down my neck, teeth grazing my skin in a way that made my pulse stutter. Rough hands ghosted up under my dress, dragging across my thighs, hips, and stomach before cupping my breast, his thumb circling my hardened nipple. I moaned and arched into him at his gentle exploration of by body. This was new and exciting territory for us, our intimate moments were hurried and rough, and despite loving it, I had been craving some softness from my mate.
Rocking back on his knees, he fumbled with his armor straps, and I followed him up, placing featherlight kisses along his chest, my tongue tracing the raised ridges of old scars, feeling the tension in his body coil tighter beneath my touch.
I trailed lower, my mouth hovering over the waistband of his leathers. Satisfaction burned hot in me at the hunger in his eyes, the way he groaned as I flicked my tongue out lave against his heated skin, savoring his breathy groans.
“You want to play, little mate?”
Humming in response, I unfastened the heavy buckles, delighting as I watched his muscles flex beneath my fingertips. The weight of his armor crashed to the floor, the dagger clattering loudly against the stone. I stuck out my tongue, swirling it around the swollen head of his cock, smiling at the groan rumbling from his chest as he throbbed under my ministrations.
“You look so fucking pretty on your knees for me.”
Dex rocked his hips forward, pressing the head of his cock to my lips and smearing them with a bead of arousal that I eagerly licked up. Parting my lips again, I took the tip in my mouth, laving my tongue against the slit, coaxing another growl from his heaving chest, my jaw aching as I fought to take him deeper into my throat.
A strangled moan escaped him, and his hand fisted my hair, patience crumbling as he thrust shallowly into my mouth. I fought the reflex to gag as he brushed the back of my throat, swallowing around him, the filthy noise drawing another guttural groan from deep in his chest.
“Fucking hell, Cleo… your throat is almost as perfect as your cunt.” His voice was hoarse, his fingers flexing tighter in my hair, pushing further into me and making my eyes water.
I burned to say something equally filthy in return, but my mouth was too full of him, too preoccupied with the way he slid over my tongue with increasing urgency. The obscene sounds filling the space around us only fanned the flames building between my thighs, and I rocked in place, desperate for friction. My nails dug into his muscled thighs, encouraging him to take more, to claim my mouth as roughly as he had my body.
“Look at you, so eager to choke on my cock,” he rasped as his hips snapped forward. He held me there, not allowing me to retreat, forcing my throat to flutter around him. “Fuck, that’s it. Take it.”
With a growl Dex pulled back and I gasped for breath, spit trailing down my chin. He didn’t give me time to recover, tugging me to my feet and showing me onto the bed with a roughness that had me feral for him. I landed on my chest with a bounce, my breath catching as I watched his claws made quick work of my dress, leaving me bare under his hungry gaze.
His hands traced possessively over my ass before roughly plunging two thick fingers into my slick heat. A startled cry escaped my lips, the wet slide of his fingers sent chills running across my body, but it wasn’t enough—I needed more.
Dex withdrew, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum that made me ache. He stroked himself, coating his thick length in our combined fluids before he pressed against my drenched core.
The stretch was overwhelming, a delicious burn that had me gasping, his sheer size forcing me open inch by inch. My body fought the intrusion, but the slickness of my arousal eased the way, and soon he was buried deep inside, filling me completely.
His deep thrust knocked the air from my lungs, and my arms gave way as my face pressed into the furs, a broken moan escaping me. He ground his hips with each thrust, reaching depths that had my toes curling, my orgasm building with staggering speed as he bullied against my g-spot. The sharp crack of his palm against my ass had me bucking against him, chasing the sweet sting of his dominance.
“Tell me who you belong to, little shaman,” he demanded, his voice dark, dangerous.
“I’m yours, Dex!” I sobbed, my vision white as pleasure tore through me as my inner muscles fluttered around him. The overwhelming sensation of being stretched and filled sent me spiraling, hitting me in waves that left me trembling and weak.
His thrusts stuttered as he chased his own release. He drove himself deep with a growl, flooding me with cum, grinding slow, shallow thrusts in me as he rode out the aftershocks.
Later, as I lay curled in his arms, the weight of my doubts felt distant, the ever-present tension melting under his touch. His arms were wrapped around me, making me feel safe in a way nothing else could. And in that quiet moment, with the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body wrapped around mine, I knew that no matter what came next, with Dex, I was home.