Page 41 of Bound in Flames (The Savage Hearts #1)

Chapter 41

Dex

T he air buzzed with remnants of Cleo’s magic. Ash blanketed the ground, and the rock still radiating an intense heat. Her body lay crumpled in the dirt, the glow of her power fading as quickly as the darkness that had threatened to overrun us.

I dropped from the stairs and raced across the blistering rock, falling to my knees beside her. My hands shook as I reached out and brushed my fingers against her skin. She was burning up.

Underneath her bond bracelet was the origin point of a channeling scar, stretching down to her fingertips and spiraling up her forearm. A jagged, twisting pattern that reminded me of lightning striking sand. The scar glowed faintly, as if remnants of the lightning she had wielded still pulsed beneath her skin. It should have been grotesque—a channeling scar that no healer could mend—but instead, it was oddly beautiful, shimmering with an inner light.

She had saved us, but at what cost? My chest tightened as I traced the path of the lightning marks with a reverence I couldn’t put into words. She had risked everything for the clan that had thought to use her as a weapon. I’d let this happen—I’d allowed her to carry the weight of our survival on her shoulders, untrained and unprepared. I’d been blind, too focused on our enemy to see what I was doing to her.

She didn’t deserved any of this.

My thumb brushed over the smooth, healed skin, and my heart twisted at how small her hand looked against mine. Her chest was barely moving with each shallow breath, and a cold knot of fear twisted in my gut. I gathered her into my arms with care and raced for the stronghold.

Gornak let out a sharp bark of orders, rallying the others to clear a path. “Move!” They parted quickly, faces streaked with blood and soot and eyes wide with concern and regret as they saw Cleo limp in my arms.

They surged around us, forming a protective line as we made our way through the rubble and into the safety of the stronghold. My chest ached with every step, but I clung to the steady rise and fall of Cleo’s breaths against my shoulder. She was alive .

I carried her to healers’ quarters, the cold air in the room stark against the heat that clung to her skin. The warmth of her power still lingered as I laid her down on a low cot, like the embers of a dying fire. Our healers knelt beside her, their hands hovering just above her chest as they murmured the incantations that guided their magic. I focused on the rise and fall of her shallow breaths and begged. The Gods to show us mercy.

I had failed her. Not just in battle, but long before it. When I’d met her, I had seen her power as a solution, a way to save my people, and in my desperation, I hadn’t stopped to consider what it would cost . The one who had given everything for a people she’d barely had time to call her own.

I turned away from the healers and glanced at the exhausted faces of my friends gathered outside the room. They were alive because of her. When she woke I would show her that she wasn’t just a weapon, wasn’t just our salvation. She was one of us. A part of this clan. I would spend my life proving that to her, earning her forgiveness.

“She burns with power,” one of the healers murmured, his expression troubled. “But it’s different than anything I have ever seen. I don’t know how to help her. ”

The words struck me like a blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. My knees buckled, and I sank down beside her, my hand closing around hers. She had poured every ounce of herself into protecting us, and I had no illusions that we deserved it.

Seer Arna stepped into the room, and when her gaze fell on Cleo, her expression clouded with an emotion I couldn’t place. But her lips were pressed tight, and something in her eyes was already too knowing.

I rose, holding back the storm that threatened to spill over. “Did you see this? Did you see what we would do to her?”

She glanced away, her silence a betrayal I hadn’t expected. A cold knot twisted in my chest as I searched her face for any sign of regret, any hint that she wished things were different. But Arna’s face remained impassive.

“She’s my mate , Arna!” My voice cracked with anguish, the words tumbling out like a plea. “Tell me I didn’t kill my mate!”

Arna held her silence, her eyes returning to Cleo, as though an answer lay in the fragile human who laid before us.

“You should have told me,” I growled. “If you knew… I could have done something?—”

“Dex,” Arna whispered, her voice unsteady, though she quickly recovered her composure. “I warned you of trying to wield the earth’s power like a blade. Some things aren’t ours to alter. There are sacrifices that must be made to maintain balance. She chose her path willingly, just as we chose to fight with her. The rest is up to the earth to decide.”

Her words were a slap in the face, and I couldn’t breathe past the knot in my throat. I forced my hands to unclench, but the anger didn’t leave. It settled like a burning coal, low and bitter in my stomach as I turned back to Cleo and took her limp hand in mine. I squeezed her fingers gently, as if my touch alone could call her back to me.

“She has walked through fire but she was never truly alone. That is what saved her.”

“Let me see her,” Seer Arna said. Her eyes were distant and unfocused, as if she were looking through us, beyond our realm. The healers exchanged uneasy glances as they backed away, aware of the signs of an approaching vision. Arna’s hands shook as she reached out, her fingertips brushing Cleo’s scarred arm.

Her breath caught, body going rigid as a vision took her. I surged forward, ready to catch her, but she straightened, and her voice spilled out in a low, broken rhythm. Each word was laced with a dark and ancient power.

"She’s standing alone in a valley. Blood drips from her hands. The clans gather around her, but shadows press closer, hiding on the edges of the clan fires. Scouts sent to the old tribes. Some return and others swallowed by the darkness—I see the banner of the Silver Hand?—”

She fell silent, her chest heaving with each breath. Arna’s eyes clouded with the remnants of the vision, shadows swirling in their depths.

“Is that our fate?”

Arna’s lips tugged into a grim smile. “Nothing is certain, Chieftain. But the path is there, if she is to wake. Watch for the shadows or they will take her from us.”

“When she wakes…” I said, my voice raw with determination. “Even if we survive this night, Ostelan will not forget. They’ve already seen her power. This victory is borrowed time. They will come for us again, and without unity we will fall.”

Arna nodded, her tired eyes regarding Cleo. Whatever lay ahead—whatever darkness still clung to our heels—I would not waver. With Cleo at my side, we would forge a new future, one that no empire, no prophecy, could steal from us.

I squeezed her hand, feeling the faint pulse of warmth beneath her delicate skin. My grip tightened as I willed her to return to me, to see the world we had fought to save. Until then, I would be waiting for her.

My fingers traced over her bond bracelet, my chest swelling with pride. She was fierce, forged by forces few could withstand. And she was mine.

“Tend to the wounded, and send riders to the remaining clans. It’s time we took back what’s ours.”