Page 18 of Bound in Flames

“Sit.” Her voice was firmer this time. I raised a brow at her, but her expression didn’t waver. “You can’t reach it properly, and it needs to be cleaned. Let me help.”

There was no arguing with her, she was desperate for some form of control. Reluctantly, I lowered myself to a fallen log, watching as she knelt beside me and rummaged through the small pack slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a strip of cloth and a small flask of water, her movements purposeful despite the faint tremor still lingering in her fingers.

Her hands brushed my shoulder lightly as she worked, and I felt the warmth of her touch even through the sting of the cool water. She cleaned the wound with care, her fingers grazing my skin as she maneuvered around the edges of the tornflesh. Each fleeting contact sent a strange, electric awareness coursing through me, distracting me from the pain. My focus narrowed entirely on her. The way her brows knit together in concentration, the faint rise and fall of her chest as she worked, the way her lower lip caught between her teeth in thought. My gaze drifted lower, and I froze, mesmerized by her kneeling at my feet. Something about the vulnerability of the position, on her knees before me, so close. My throat constricted and I shifted awkwardly, trying to dispel the sudden flames of desire. Lust mingled with the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, and I forced myself to look away, blaming the primal instincts that always surged after a fight. Orcs were wired for this. Battle and blood always stoked the fire formore.

Her fingers lingered a fraction too long as she wrapped the cloth around my shoulder, tying it off with a careful knot. “There,” she murmured, sitting back on her heels. “That should hold for now. I’m sorry I don’t have any healing salves or herbs.”

Her words pulled me sharply from my thoughts, and I flexed my arm experimentally, testing the bandage. “Not bad,” I said, my voice deliberately casual. “You’ve done this sort of thing before?”

She gave a small, rueful smile that fueled the desire I was fighting to suppress.Oh, the things I want to do to that pouty little mouth. I shook the thoughts from my head, focusing on the words as they left her lips instead. “Farm life isn’t exactly gentle. I’ve patched up worse.” Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, and I caught the faintest hint of a blush creeping across her cheeks as she took in our position.

I couldn’t resist leaning in. “Careful, you’re going to spoil me with all this attention.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she muttered, but the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying her amusement. The flush of her cheeks was exactly what I had been hoping for. The coloring sentfilthy thoughts tumbling through my imagination, and I had to focus on pushing them back.

Her warmth lingered on my skin long after she pulled away, and I found myself reluctant to break the moment.

“Thank you” I said, the words heavier than they should have been.

“You’re welcome.”

I stood, towering over her, the sheer difference in our size striking. Something I liked way too much. Her smaller hand slipped into mine, her touch ignited something raw and untamed inside me, a primal hunger clawing its way to the surface, demanding more. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast, her human fragility against my orc strength. It made me wonder, not for the first time, why she didn’t seem terrified of me. Most humans would have been.

Pulling her to stand, I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand before I released her reluctantly. “We need to keep moving,” I said, my tone gruffer than I intended.

She nodded, her cheeks still tinged pink as she fell into step beside me. As we made our way deeper into the dark forest, the pull between us lingered, simmering beneath the surface like a fire waiting to ignite. I found myself wondering if the path ahead might hold something more than just survival.

Chapter 10

Cleo

The forest closed in around us as the day wore on, the canopy filtering the sunlight into a dim, almost twilight-like glow. The air was cool, and the tension between Dex and I had shifted to something more intimate. Every time I caught the flicker of his golden eyes on me, my pulse quickened. My body was hyper-aware of him. His strength, his body heat, the way his deep voice seemed to sink into my skin and settle in my chest.Focus, Cleo!

It wasn’t just his presence that had my blood humming. The memory of my magic, how the earth had responded to my command, still thudded in my veins. I could feel the heady power as the roots had surged up. It had been intoxicating. Overwhelming and terrifying.

And then there was a darker pull, the strange feeling when the Shadow Hound had fallen, its lifeforce draining away into the earth. The dark, cold emptiness of death had brushed against my awareness, and for a fleeting moment, I had felt the urge to reach out and grasp it, to take that energy into myself. The thought left me sick, but it also left me aching with a strange and unnerving hunger for more. A pulse of power throbbed beneathmy skin, but the darkness kept it at bay. Barely. It wasn’t just magic. It spoke to something darker in me.

“Stop.”

Freezing, I scanned the shadows ahead, heart pounding. I thought he had spotted another shape approaching in the shadows, but breathed a sigh of relief when three orcs emerged from the underbrush, their broad shoulders and green skin unmistakable even in the dim light. The first one to step forward was a towering figure with a gray-streaked braid that glinted faintly under the dappled light. His amber eyes locked onto Dex, and his face split into a wide grin, sharp tusks gleaming. “Glad to see you, old friend!” he called out, his voice thick with relief and warmth.

Dex smiled widely, taking in the trio. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to it that I could feel even from where I stood. “Miss me already, Gornak?”

Behind Gornak, the two other orcs moved swiftly into view. One of them, smaller but no less imposing, clutched a curved blade in one hand while his other rested with a falcon perched on his shoulder. The bird’s sharp eyes scanning the area as if it, too, understood the danger of the forest. With a quick whistle from its master, the falcon launched into the air, disappearing into the canopy above with a flutter of wings.

“I'll send word to the clan,” the smaller orc said. “They’ll be relieved to hear of your return, Chieftain.”

The weight of their gazes pressed against my skin, their expressions sharpened with curiosity. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, and it took everything I had not to recoil. Instead, I kept my chin steady, even as my pulse drummed in my ears and my fingers curled into the fabric of my dress. Self-consciousness gnawed at me as their gazes swept over me, taking in every detail. My dress was torn and frayed, dirtied by mud and riddled with debris that clungstubbornly to the hem. The cut on my temple felt raw and exposed under their scrutiny, and I could almost feel the grime on my skin, the days of running and fighting etched into every inch of me. I fought the urge to brush at my hair, knowing it would be futile. They saw me as I was—bruised and vulnerable.

“And her?” Gornak asked. His voice was low but filled with curiosity as he leaned around Dex to take me in.

“She is a shaman. The reason I’m free and the reason we’re still alive. She’s more powerful than any I’ve ever seen.”

As Dex told them of our journey and how we came to be traveling companions, I watched the orcs closely. They exchanged glances, expressions shifting from suspicion to something resembling cautious respect. The tension in the air didn’t completely dissipate, but it softened enough for one of them to step forward, offering a faint nod and crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture felt deliberate, almost protective, as if signaling acceptance.

“Enchanted cuffs,” the young falconer muttered, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “The Ostelan Crown is cruel; putting anyone through that is akin to torture. I’m Thorn.”

“Cleo.” I nodded in response.

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