Page 11 of Bound in Flames

He pressed a small boot knife into my hand, the blade cold against my skin. “You shouldn’t be unarmed.” The edges of his voice softened just enough to feel reassuring.

I stared at the weapon, the gleam of its sharp edge catching the faint light. "I don’t know how to use this."

His lips curved into a knowing smile.” Then I’ll teach you." he said simply, as if it was the obvious and easy solution.

We moved quickly, gathering what we could from the convoy. My hands shook as I stuffed the meager rations into a makeshift bag, the adrenaline of the fight still thrumming through me like a second heartbeat. As I reached for the last bundle, Dex stepped closer and extended a hand, his rough palm enveloping mine as he helped me down from the wagon with surprising care. I knew he’d noticed the shake in my fingers, the lingering effects of everything we’d just been through, but the gesture still sent a blush creeping up my neck.

He handed me a water flask without a word, scanning the perimeter. "We should move, we have a lot of ground to cover." His calm purpose was grounding, even as every sound in the forest felt sharper now.

The snap of a twig or the rustle of leaves sending jolts of awareness through my body. Dex moved beside me. His massive frame was an imposing shadow against the trees, leading us deeper into the forest where the air felt heavier but, strangely, safer.

With each step, the suffocating fear of Knights Hold began to lift, replaced by something new. Uncertainty, yes, but also hope. It felt like something I could face, even if the path ahead was uncertain.

Chapter 6

Dex

The Wild Lands stretched out before us in hues of green and gold, the thick canopy filtering the sun into fractured patterns on the forest floor. The air was alive with the sounds of unseen creatures, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the distant call of birds. The land was unfamiliar, yet it felt like home. The kind of place where life and death mingled freely, the kind of place my clan thrived.

I adjusted my pace, glancing back to Cleo as she trudged behind me. Her torn and frayed dress clung to her soft hips and shifted with her every move. Despite the bruises from the guards' rough handling, there was a quiet strength in the way she carried herself, a resilience that drew my attention even when I tried to look away. She moved with determination, but I could see the tremor in her steps, the lingering adrenaline that hadn’t yet burned out of her system. I slowed my pace. As much as I hated the delay, her smaller legs couldn’t match my stride.

The sky above deepened to a dusky orange, and the temperature began to drop. The Wild Lands didn’t forgive weakness, and the night would be colder than she could likely tolerate. Even with a fire, the chill would bite at her. My eyes lingered on her dress again, the way it offered her littleprotection against the elements, before I forced myself to look away. She needed more than we had.

"Are you always this slow, or is it for my benefit?" I called back to her, needing to keep her talking, to make sure she wasn’t going into shock.

She glared at me, eyes flashing with irritation. "I’m human, remember? Big, strong orc, conquering the mighty forest! Do you want me to take notes?"

A grin tugged at my mouth. "Might do you some good. Not everyone's built for this kind of terrain."

Her snort was barely audible, but the smile that followed told me she wasn’t as worn down as she seemed. That resilience was going to serve her well, if it didn’t get her killed first. "Please, I've handled worse than a few rocks. But if you're offering to carry me and all of our belongings, don't let me stop you. You can put those muscles that you keep on flexing to good use!”

"I could if you wanted me to."

I gazed back at her to catch her blushing hard in response. "I’ll keep that in mind, Chieftain," she said, her tone laced with mock formality. "But I wouldn’t want you thinking I couldn’t handle a little rough terrain."

A slow grin spread across my face. “Of course not. Offer still stands. You’re tiny, and I likely wouldn’t even notice the difference."

Her steps faltered, and she glared up at me, green eyes sparking. "Tiny?! I am a grown woman, not a child!"

I stopped walking, turning to look her over with deliberate slowness. "I am very aware of you being a grown woman. Compared to an orc, humansaretiny. Carrying you would not be an inconvenience."

Her blush deepened, but she rolled her eyes and strode past me, muttering under her breath. The corner of my mouth twitched as I followed, unable to resist the way her cheeksflushed so easily. It stirred something within me, a strange curiosity about whether that blush extended all the way down her neck, perhaps even lower. The thought surprised me, a sharp pull of desire for a human—a race so different from my own—but I couldn’t deny the way it gnawed at me.

We pressed on, my ears attuned to every sound. The forest was alive, but its pulse was different from what I was used to. This was not my land, yet the soil beneath my boots felt the same. The smell of damp earth mixed with the crispness of the approaching night. Somewhere nearby, an animal darted through the underbrush, its presence marked only by the crackle of dry twigs. I could sense Cleo’s discomfort in the silence, her unease at the way I moved through the Wild Lands with an ease she couldn’t match.

"This place doesn’t bother you, does it?" she asked, her voice cutting through the stillness.

"No, it feels alive. Humans build walls to keep themselves separate from the world. Orcs? We live in it."

“So, you’re saying you prefer…this?" She gestured around at the trees, fallen branches in our path, and the chaos of the forest.

"The Wild Lands don’t lie. There’s no pretense here. You survive, or you don’t."

Her steps faltered, but she caught herself quickly. “What about your clan? Do they all live in places like this?”

"The Blackfoot Clan is isolated in the Black Mountains, but we thrive in the forest. All orc-kind do.”

"Before the war centuries ago, the Blackfoot Clan lived in these forests. The Wild Lands were ours; the forest was our strength. The humans' greed drove us out, forcing us to retreat to our old strongholds in the Black Mountains. There, we survived, but it was never the same. The Wild Lands have always felt like home, even when the world tried to take them from us.”

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