Page 31 of Bound in Flames (The Savage Hearts #1)

Chapter 31

Cleo

A s the morning passed, I wandered through the stronghold, my steps slower than usual as I took in the daily life of the orcs around me. There was a rhythm to it all, one I’d grown accustomed to, though I still didn’t feel like I fully belonged. The warriors were hard at work, their grunts and the clash of weapons filling the air as they trained in the courtyard. The children’s laughter rang out along the halls, a light sound that contrasted with the tension that pulsed within the keep, each day drawing the looming darkness closer.

Some of the women were gathered around the fires, preparing meals, mending clothes, and talking quietly amongst themselves, their conversations held more than just idle gossip. These caretakers were the clan’s backbone, silent anchors holding their people together, while the warriors fought and the leaders made decisions. Yet despite the role I’d grown into, I sometimes still felt like I was watching from the outside, a stranger looking in on something I didn’t fully understand.

Everywhere I went, I felt their eyes on me. Some of the orcs watched with awe, others with curiosity, and a few with uncertainty or suspicion. I understood why—ever since the prophecy had been revealed, ever since I’d been named the shaman meant to lead them back to the valley, I was no longer an outsider; I was their hope against the dark magic that threatened their way of life. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was an imposter.

“Shaman, will you join us?”

I hesitated, unsure. I’d been keeping to myself more and more lately, afraid that any sign of doubt or weakness would undermine the faith they’d put in me. But something in the woman’s eyes reassured me.

They made space for me on one of the large stones surrounding the fire, the flames warming my skin. These women had an air of wisdom about them, and as I settled into the circle, I could feel their quiet strength. These weren’t just any orcs—these were the elders, women who had seen generations rise and fall, who had endured more than I could imagine.

The woman who had called to me was older, her gray hair neatly braided down her back, the lines on her face marking her many years. Despite her age, her eyes were sharp and clear, full of life and knowledge. She smiled at me warmly, though I sensed something probing in her gaze, as if she were looking beyond the surface, assessing me.

“How are you? We’ve heard rumors of your struggles with offensive magic.”

They all knew about my struggles. Great. The orcs had placed so much faith in me, and admitting my failures felt like betraying that trust. But I couldn’t lie, not to these women who had lived through more than I ever would. There was no point in pretending I had everything under control.

“It’s... difficult.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I can heal, but when it comes to the other magic, it doesn’t come naturally to me.”

The older woman nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Magic is not something that can be forced. It must be allowed to flow through you like a river. If you try to control it too tightly, it will slip away, just as water does when grasped by a fist.”

I looked down at my hands, frowning as I remembered all the times I had tried to summon the magic, only to feel it vanish the moment I tried to take hold of it. Frustration crept into my voice. “Yes. Every time I try to channel the earth or air, it feels like I’m fighting against it, like it’s resisting me.”

One of the other women, younger but with the same sharpness in her eyes, leaned forward. Her voice was quiet but filled with authority. “Magic isn’t always for the mind to understand. Sometimes, it must be felt with the heart.”

I looked at her, a skeptical frown tugging at my lips. “But if I don’t understand it, how can I control it? How can I protect the clan if I don’t know how to wield it?”

“You don’t control it,” She met my gaze, her voice soft but resolute. “Elemental magic can’t be controlled.”

Her words echoed my deepest fear, a chill prickling down my spine as I wondered if I would ever safely harness the power within, to keep the magic from consuming me.

“There are some in the clan who believe all magic must be tightly controlled,” the younger woman added, her eyes locking onto mine. “But there was a time when our shamans were as wild as the magic they channeled, using the raw power of their hearts to shape it. They didn’t fear the chaos, they embraced it.”

I let my gaze drift across the women gathered around the fire. These women had lived their entire lives in tune with the earth, with the magic that flowed around them, even if they couldn’t wield it themselves. They understood things on a level I could only hope to one day match.

“I’m trying,” I said softly, my voice betraying the uncertainty that gnawed at me. “But what if I can’t figure it out in time? The darkness is still out there. It’s getting stronger, and I can feel it creeping closer every day.”

The older woman’s expression darkened. Her voice carried a weighty gravity, each word resonating with the solemnity of her warning. “Darkness waits patiently, like a shadow that creeps ever closer, feeding on the fear it cultivates. What matters is the intent with which you wield it, not the source from which you draw.”

Fear had been my constant companion for so long—fear of my own power, fear of failing the clan, fear of what the prophecy demanded of me. And it was true: that fear had been gnawing away at me, weakening my resolve. But could I really let it go? Could I trust myself enough to channel the magic without letting it slip out of control?

“I don’t know if I can,” I whispered, more to myself than to them.

The older woman reached out and placed a hand on mine, her grip surprisingly strong for someone her age. “You are our shaman,” she said firmly. “But you are also one of us now. We stand with you, Cleo. You do not carry this burden alone.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat as I questioned whether I was worthy of the trust and faith they’d placed in me. Firelight danced over their wise, weathered faces, casting shadows that highlighted every line etched by time and hardship. These women had lived through the worst. They had survived wars, loss, and exile from their ancestral lands. They had faced darkness before, and they were still standing. And now they were standing with me.

“Seer Arna teaches you control,” the younger woman continued, her voice a little softer now, “but remember, elemental magic cannot be controlled, only guided. Use whatever emotion is strong enough to hold onto, and use that strength with your intent.”

I had been holding on too tightly, clenching my fists around the magic, trying to force it to bend to my will. But maybe that wasn’t what it needed. Maybe the magic wasn’t something to be wielded with force. Maybe it was something to be guided, coaxed, and allowed to flow naturally.

“Thank you. You’ve given me much to think about.”

The older woman smiled, a gentle, knowing smile. “It will be enough. You will be enough.”

I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me, along with something quieter but more powerful. Hope. Maybe they were right and I didn’t have to control everything. Maybe I could trust myself, trust the magic, and trust the bond I shared with Dex and the clan.

The conversation lingered with me as I left the elders’ circle, and I felt lighter, a weight lifting from my shoulders and I didn’t feel quite so afraid.

I fled the gardens, frustration rolling off me in suffocating waves, each step fueled by the crushing weight of failure pressing against my chest. The air in the stronghold felt thick, the cool stone walls closing in as I moved through the dimly lit corridors. My pulse thundered in my ears, and my hands were clenched into fists at my sides. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't grasp control of my magic. It flared and pulsed when I least expected it—wild, reckless, and terrifying. It rose to protect me instinctively, surging forth like a beast with a mind of its own, but when I reached for it with intention, it slipped through my fingers like smoke. The thought haunted me, tightening around my throat like a noose. What if the next time it reacted without my consent? If it was Dex standing too close? What if it was Arna, or one of the warriors? What if I lost control at the worst possible moment and hurt the very people I had sworn to protect? What if it was the children? My stomach churned with dread, the fear gnawing at my edges like hungry wolves as I hurried toward the comfort of our quarters. So much for my positivity from earlier…

“Cleo?”

The sound of my name stopped me in my tracks. I turned to find Seer Arna standing in the dim corridor, her keen eyes assessing me with a quiet, knowing gaze.

“Come, we must speak.”

I fell into step behind her, trailing down the winding corridor that led away from the bustling heart of the stronghold. The quiet hum of activity faded behind us, replaced by the soft echo of our footsteps. The air grew colder as we ascended a narrow staircase and entered a small chamber tucked away from the main halls, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows across shelves lined with jars and bundles of dried herbs, the musty scent of old parchment flooding my nose. Arna stopped just inside the doorway, her sharp eyes scanned me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "You’ve done well here," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of years and wisdom. "The orcs see you as one of us. You’ve earned your place with us.”

A weak smile tugged at my lips. "That’s kind of you to say. Thank you."

She studied me for some time before continuing, her expression unreadable. "You’re doing more than trying. You are becoming. I know what you saw, child."

"You know?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze softening. "The flames speak to those who listen. They show us what we need to see. I understand the burden you carry."

I swallowed against the rising knot in my chest. "It doesn’t make sense. The darkness, the magic... what it’s asking of me. I don’t know what it wants." I admitted, my voice trembling.

Arna’s lips curled into a faint smile as she stepped closer to take my hand. "It’s asking you to choose, Cleo. It always has."

A frown tugged at my brows, confusion twisting in my gut. "Choose? What kind of choices are these!”

Her eyes glowed with something ancient and powerful, the air crackling with energy. "Your vision showed you two paths. One where you stand alone, bearing the cost of our survival. And another where you stand with the clan, destined to die as one of us.”

“Was this was always my fate?"

The Seer's soft nod was like an arrow through my chest.

"Did Dex... did he know?" I asked, but deep down I already knew the answer.

Arna’s expression shifted, a shadow of regret visible across her face as she inclined her head. "Yes. The earth has a funny way of complicating matters. The earth gave us you, but they also gave him a mate. His choice is not unlike yours—to choose between duty and love."

He had known all this time that I was to die for his people, and he said nothing .

"Before you judge him too harshly," Arna added, her voice gentle, "know that he has been scouring every piece of our history, every scrap of knowledge on the prophecy that he could find, looking for more answers, another way.”

I swallowed thickly as the bitter taste of betrayal mingled with my rising fear. "He didn’t find anything, did he?”

"No, he didn’t. But that is not his thread of fate to control." There was a spark of something—mischief, maybe—in her eyes that caught me off guard as I looked at her, "That’s the tricky part of fate, isn’t it? The prophecy did not speak of you being mate bound to the Chieftain; that was fate. Fate bound you to the clan and you became one of us. Humans were not meant to wield the power of the earth, but you are not just a human, you are part of the Blackfoot Clan. Your blood oath binds you to us."

“So everyone knew?" Her nod drove the betrayal deeper. The new family and friends I thought I had found… did they not even have enough respect for me to tell me I was to die?

"How does that change my visions?"

Arna chuckled softly and reached out to pat my shoulder. "You’re looking for answers in the wrong places, child. Sometimes, the best choice isn’t about right or wrong; it’s about what feels true to who you are. When you feel yourself losing control, call on your bond with Dex. He will ground you."

I bit my lip, the vulnerability I had fought so hard to keep at bay spilling over. "And if it doesn’t?"

Arna’s understanding smile at my turbulent emotions was validating.

"Failure is only an option if you let it be. Don’t be too hard on him. He’s been at war with himself over how to tell you." Her voice softened further. "He didn’t want to heed my advice and tell you when you first arrived. He was so sure he could change the prophecy, and you didn’t want to risk chasing you away.”

I stumbled through the corridors, my pulse a deafening drumbeat, my ears ringing. The distant murmur of the stronghold faded beneath the echo of Arna’s words, twisting and turning through my mind like barbed wire. Doubt clawed inside my ribs, each inhale sharp and ragged, as if I were suffocating under the weight of it all. By the time I reached the Chieftain’s chambers, my legs threatened to give out, trembling under the pressure of my spiraling thoughts. I slammed the door shut and pressed my back against the solid oak, and I slid down to the floor. A gasping sob shattering the heavy silence. Emotions crashed in relentless waves—anger sharp enough to slice through my thoughts, sorrow so heavy it felt crushing, dragging me down, and confusion that wrapped around my throat, choking off my cries. The ache in my chest was a hollow pressure that swelled with each frantic heartbeat, each shallow breath. Panic coiled at the edges of my vision, black spots blooming and receding like a tide threatening to pull me under. I forced in a ragged breath, grasping for control, for something solid amidst the storm.

"Five things you can see..." I whispered, my voice trembling. My eyes darted frantically around the room. The flickering firelight casting restless shadows across the walls. Dex’s discarded armor, haphazardly tossed on the table. The thick furs draped messily across the bed. My hands, trembling in my lap. The pitted stone under me.

Four things you can touch. The cool wood of the door behind me. The soft, familiar fabric of my tunic. The scuffed leather of my boots. The warmth of my skin, pulsing beneath my fingertips.

My breathing slowed as I wrestled control back, but the storm inside didn’t subside. Doubt seeped through the cracks of my armor, sinking its claws deeper into my chest. Had Dex been weaving a careful web around me from the very beginning? The thought struck like a physical blow, sending a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me. The way he had found me, how effortlessly he had slipped into my life, offering his protection, his strength... it all felt too perfect now, too deliberate. How foolish I had been, handing him my trust, and my heart, so freely. The ache inside deepened as doubt slithered through my veins like poison, corrupting happy memories of my mate.

Had any of it been real or had he just been biding his time, waiting for me to fall so deeply into their cause that I would willingly throw myself into battle, knowing it would be to my destruction? I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling another broken sob.

Despite the bitter sting of betrayal, I knew one thing for certain. I would have done it anyway. I had come to care for the clan, felt their acceptance warming me in ways I never imagined possible, finding the family I had always craved. Despite the turmoil writhing inside, I knew I would die for Dex without hesitation.

My fingers curled into the my tunic, clutching at my chest as if I could physically hold the fragments of my heart together. Each ragged breath rattled in my lungs, the weight of it pressing against my ribs like a vice. With a trembling hand, I wiped at my tears in a futile attempt to erase the evidence of my heartbreak.

I needed answers. I needed to hear the truth from his lips, even if it would tear me apart. Even if it didn’t change my love for him. Drawing in a deep breath, I pushed herself up from the floor, my legs trembling beneath my weight. There was no running from this. Not anymore.

The clang of weapons drew my attention as I neared the training grounds, the sharp sound slicing through my haze. I leaned against the stone wall, and my gaze locked on the warriors sparring in the open yard. They moved with confidence, each strike and block a testament to their discipline and years of training. But my eyes were drawn to only one figure.

Dex.

He was sparring with one of the larger orcs, his movements a masterful blend of strength and grace. Each strike of his weapon was deliberate, every step perfectly placed. The sheer power in his form, the control he exerted over his every movement—it was mesmerizing. I allowed myself to forget everything else, to lose myself in the sight of him.

My mind betrayed me, pulling up memories of his body against mine, his strength making me feel both fragile and unbreakable. In battle, he dominated his opponents with a ruthless aggression and in the quiet of night, he dominated me in a way that left me breathless, his touch a worshipful contradiction to the raw power that defined him.

Even now, as I watched him disarm his opponent with a fluid twist of his wrist, I felt a familiar warmth unfurling low in my belly. But beneath the flicker of desire, darker emotions churned—anger, hurt, and betrayal.

I had trusted him. Believed in him. And now, after what Arna had told me, I didn’t know what was real anymore. Did he bring me here because he loved me, or was I just a tool in some grand plan? Did he see me as his mate, or was I nothing more than a piece in the prophecy he wanted to control?

Dex caught my gaze from across the training grounds, his sharp eyes narrowing as if he could sense the turmoil within me. A small smile tugged at his lips, but I could see concern behind his confidence. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he strode toward me.

“You’re looking a little distracted,” he teased, stopping in front of me. “See something you like?”

I forced a grin. “Distracted? I was just wondering why you took so long to win that fight.” My tone was light, playful, but the edge in my voice betrayed the tension beneath it.

Dex raised an eyebrow and leaned in, his hand braced against the wall beside me. His presence crowded me, filling the air between us with his heat, his scent. It felt both comforting and suffocating, and I hated the combination. “Maybe I was trying to impress someone,” he said, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Make it last.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, my tone feigning amusement even as my chest tightened. “And here I thought you always liked to finish strong.”

His grin widened as his eyes gleamed with that roguish glint that always made my pulse race. “I do, but sometimes, taking my time has its rewards.”

I laughed but the sound was hollow even to my own ears. Dex tilted his head, his gaze sharpening as he studied me.

“What’s wrong?” His teasing tone had faded into something softer, more serious.

I looked away, my heart hammering in my chest. “I’m fine .”

“Cleo.” His voice was firm, cutting through my defenses. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my arm in that gentle, grounding way that always seemed to unravel me. “Talk to me.”

My resolve crumbled under the weight of his gaze. “Can we go somewhere else?”

His brow furrowed but he nodded, his hand sliding to the small of my back to guide me.

“Don’t touch me,” I snapped, stepping back. “Not until you tell me the truth.”

His hand froze mid-air, his eyes narrowing.“Cleo, what are you talking about?”

“ Don’t !” my voice trembled with the effort to keep my emotions in check. “Don’t play dumb with me, Dex. I talked to Arna. She told me about the prophecy. About what you’ve known all along.”

His face darkened, his golden eyes narrowing into sharp slits. “You don’t understand?—”

“—You’re right!” I cut him off, my voice rising. “I don’t understand because you didn’t tell me! You let me walk around here, thinking we were in this together, thinking I could trust you . And all the while, you knew what the prophecy demanded of me.”

“I didn’t tell you because I was trying to protect you! Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to burden you with this when you were already carrying so much?”

I stepped closer, my hands trembling at my sides as I glared up at him. “You had no right to decide that for me. No right to keep me in the dark about something this important. How am I supposed to trust you now, Dex? How am I supposed to believe that any of this—us—is real? Or was it just another way to keep me tied to you?” I thrust my wrist into his face. The jewelry he’d given me for our mate bond mocked me as it glittered in the light.

His expression twisted, a mixture of anger and hurt flashing across his face. “You think this isn’t real?” He snatched up my wrist in his hand. “Do you think that I wanted to be caught between my duty and my mate?! In the beginning, I was doing what I had to—my duty is to my clan!”

“What about to me!” I demanded, my voice sharp with anger.

“You changed everything! At first, I thought I could ignore our connection, but you pushed right through the walls as quickly as I could put them up. Now I see it was inevitable. I can’t breathe without you. I can’t think straight! You’re not just my mate, Cleo—you’re my weakness!”

His pained voice tugged at my heart, but I refused to let them soften the edges of my anger as I pulled from his grasp. “And you think that makes it better? That admitting you’re a slave to your emotions somehow justifies keeping this from me?! You lied to me!”

“I was trying to find another way!” Dex roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. His hands fisted at his sides, his entire body radiating frustration and desperation, his voice dropping into a whisper. “Do you think I want this to be your fate? That I haven’t spent every waking moment searching for another way? I won’t let this prophecy take you from me. I can’t.”

For several long minutes we stared at each other, neither of us speaking. My breath came in shaky bursts, my chest heaving with emotions. “Arna told me the earth chose intentionally. Fate intervened.”

Dex’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he stared at me. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. She said my bond with you doesn’t make me a human shaman anymore, I’m a part of the Blackfoot Clan. She thinks that becoming one with the clan may have been my other option.”

Dex’s fists unclenched, his shoulders sagging as the fight seemed to drain out of him. “Gods, I hope she is right,” he whispered. “But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up looking for another way. I won’t let the prophecy decide your fate, Cleo. I can’t lose you.”

I shook my head, the knot in my chest tightening as I looked at him. “And what if there isn’t a chance, Dex? What if this is the only way?”

His gaze hardened, his golden eyes blazing with defiance. “Then I’ll make one. Even if I have to tear this world apart to do it.”

I stared at him, wanting to believe him, to trust that he could find a solution, but the doubt lingered.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not.” His hand reached for mine.”I will not be the reason for your death. If it wants to have you it better be ready for me as well.”

The raw intensity in his voice sent shivers through me, and I let him pull me into his arms. “Please, swear you won’t keep anything from me ever again. I would have given everything for you, Dex, and still would. Right now I need space to think.”

I felt him nod above me, trailing his blunt fingers across my back out of habit, hesitant to let me go. But even as I leaned into his warmth, the weight of Arna’s words lingered in the back of my mind, a reminder that some battles couldn’t be won. I pulled from his grip and turned, hurrying away for some privacy to find my center again.