Page 13 of Bound in Flames

"Stop thinking so hard. Meditation isn't about forcing your mind to stop. It's about letting it quiet on its own."

"Right, because quieting my mind is so easy," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm. "Especially when you're sitting directly behind me. I can feel you staring at me. Are you worried I'm going to burst into flames or something?"

“You don’t need my help for that. You’re capable of doing that all on your own. Now, close your eyes and allow your mind to quiet."

She sighed but complied, her lashes fluttering shut as she shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position against me. "Breathe. In through your nose. Feel it fill your chest. Let it out slowly. Again."

I could feel her trying to follow my instructions, her breaths coming slower and deeper, but her shoulders remained tight, the tension radiating through her entire body like a coiled spring. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Each breath betrayed her struggle to find calm amidst the chaos within her. She fidgeted again, her hands tugging restlessly at her dress. The frustration was palpable, and I could feel it as clearly as the heat of thefire beside us, her inner turmoil vibrating through her frame as though it might escape at any moment. Her lips parted as if to speak but closed again.

"Stop fidgeting,” I said, my tone laced with amused patience.

"I don’t know what I’m doing." Frustration crept into her voice. "This whole magic thing didn’t come with a guidebook!"

"Good thing you’ve got me then. You’re not going to figure this out in one night. Start with this moment and forget everything else."

She huffed out a breath. "I can feel you staring at me like that. Can you stop?"

"Like what?" I asked innocently.

"Like I’m some shiny new shaman plaything." There was a hint of embarrassment in her voice.Interesting.

"Well, you are.”

"That’s not distracting and inappropriate at all,” she muttered, her sarcasm returning full force.

I leaned forward, my breath ghosting across the back of her neck, watching as several curls danced across her neck. The movement was deliberate, meant to rattle her, and I wasn’t disappointed when I felt her shoulders stiffen in response. "Maybe distraction is exactly what you need," I murmured, my voice teasing. Promising.

She twisted sharply to glare at me over her shoulder. Her blush burned bright against her cheeks, spilling down the line of her neck. The sight stirred something primal in me, satisfaction blooming as her wide eyes locked onto mine. She froze when she realized how close my face was to hers. I held her gaze, letting the corner of my mouth lift into a slow, unrepentant smile. The way her indignation warred with embarrassment only deepened my amusement—and, admittedly, my interest. "I thought we were supposed to be teaching me how to meditate."

"I am. Lesson one, stop running from your thoughts. Lesson two, if you’re going to let something distract you"—my gaze briefly dropped to her lips—"make sure it’s a worthy distraction."

Her blush deepened, but before I could revel in it fully, she snapped her face forward to the flames. The subtle roll of her shoulders and the way her lips pressed together as she muttered only added to the captivating display. “This is inappropriate.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, utterly enraptured by the way every thought and emotion played out so vividly on her face, as though she didn’t know how to hide them, or didn’t care to. It was a rare honesty that left me wanting more.

Despite her protests, she didn’t pull away from my warmth. I let my smirk linger as I settled behind her again, not even trying to keep it out of my voice. “Try again. Unless, of course, you’d rather keep arguing, in which case…"

Part of me was disappointed when she stopped our playful banter, though I couldn’t quite understand why. My comfort with her, a human I had met only earlier that day, was unsettling in its own right. It wasn’t just her sharp wit or the way her blush deepened with every teasing remark—though I took a shameful amount of pleasure in flustering her. It was the stubborn fire in her, the way she pushed back against me with a strength that belied her vulnerable circumstances. For someone so seemingly fragile, she carried herself with surprising resilience, and it intrigued me. I found myself wanting to see more of that fire, to push just enough to watch her flare brightly in response.

The air around us seemed to shift as she focused, the faint hum of magic growing stronger. I felt a flicker of warmth, faint but unmistakable, beginning to emanate from her body. It was subtle, but enough to make me acutely aware of how she no longer needed my heat to keep the chill at bay. A part of me felta pang of disappointment at the realization, though I brushed it aside quickly.

The scent of earth flared sharply as small patches of moss and clusters of mushrooms sprang up around us. The casual ease with which she wielded her incredible power was intoxicating, the earth responding to her in a way that felt raw yet undeniably powerful. The fresh scent mingled with the smoke from the fire, and the air itself seemed to pulse, alive and humming in tune with her presence.

"Good girl. Open your eyes, Cleo." Watching her was mesmerizing, but the sensation of her body relaxing against mine was addicting. I could feel the tension melting away from her frame as her breaths steadied, her soft curves pressing gently into me. She let out a quiet gasp of awe as her eyes fluttered open, and though I couldn’t see her face fully, the tilt of her head and the soft parting of her lips spoke volumes. The flicker of firelight highlighted her features, illuminating the wonder that radiated from her expression. I was enthralled, not just by what she’d done but by how she carried it. Like the smallest spark of hope had taken root in her, coaxing life into a place where she might have thought it impossible.

“I did that?” she asked in disbelief, her wide eyes roaming the moss and mushrooms sprouting at her feet.

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You called the earth, and it answered.” My gaze lingered on her, taking in the mix of wonder and uncertainty on her face. “That’s what it means to be a shaman.”

I watched as a moment of peace settled over her, even if it was fleeting. It was a moment I let her have before speaking again, my voice turning practical. "Rest while you can. We have a lot of ground to cover to the Black Mountains. But if you keep this up, you might survive the journey."

Her brief smile faded, replaced by a glint of defiance I was beginning to appreciate more than I should."Might?"

I laughed as I pulled her back into my chest. "The Wild Lands don’t forgive mistakes. But you, little shaman, might just be stubborn enough to make it."

I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so easily. Shaking the confusing thoughts from my head, I cradled Cleo in my arms as I settled in for a long night on watch. And if my fingers trailed soothing patterns on her arms as she drifted to sleep, I would never admit to it.

Chapter 7

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