Page 46 of Bound in Flames

The ringof steel and heavy footfalls filled the room, the air thick with sweat and dust. Orcs sparred all around me, their roars of effort blending into the steady rhythm of clashing blades. I could feel their eyes on me—glances thrown my way, some curious, others skeptical. I tried to focus on the cool weight of the sword in my hands, a knot of nerves twisting in my stomach, tension humming softly beneath my skin.

I wasn’t even sure how I’d been goaded into this. Dex’s cajoling about the knife he’d given me in the Wild Lands had been relentless. Apparently, it was for nothing if he didn’t teach me how to use it. And somehow, here I was, gripping a sword that felt far too big for my hands, under the scrutiny of a clan of warriors who could crush me with their bare hands.

Dex stood a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with that familiar, infuriating smirk. The wooden practice blade felt awkward in my grip, but I set my jaw, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me struggle.

“You’re holding it wrong,” he drawled, pushing off from where he was leaning against the fence as he watched me go through the practiced motions. He circled me slowly, his gaze raking over my stance, assessing. The way he moved, smooth and confident, made my skin prickle with awareness, and I had to bite back a retort. “You’ll break your wrist before you land a decent strike like that.”

I shot him a glare, trying to keep my focus on the blade instead of the way his presence seemed to fill the space around us. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I thought you wanted me to learn how to do this, not just criticize everything I do.”

His smirk deepened, and he circled behind me, stepping close enough that the heat of his body radiated against my back. “I do want you to learn. But I also don’t want you getting yourself killed when something takes a swipe at you.” His breath ghosted against the side of my neck as he reached around me, his fingers brushing mine as he adjusted my grip. My heart stuttered in my chest, a rush of heat flooding my veins. Every piece of training drilled into me today vanished from his proximity. My body betrayed me, leaning into his warmth despite the frustration simmering beneath my skin.

He murmured close to my ear, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “Relax your shoulders. You’re holding it like it’s a pickaxe, not a blade. It’s all about balance. Remember, slow is fast, fast is slow.”

I shifted my weight, trying to follow his instructions even as his nearness made it difficult to think. The blade felt too heavy, too unwieldy. I tried to focus, slowly pulling the sword up and across in front of my chest in a slash, before bringing it back to the ready position. “Better?”

Dex let out a hum, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Much better, but you’re still too stiff. Loosen up, shaman. You’re not fighting a tree.” His hand lingered on mine longer than necessary, and I swore I felt his thumb graze the back of my left hand, touching my mate bond bracelet. His hands on me were light, but they sent a slow, curling ache deep in my stomach, the frustration mounting inside me in more ways than one.

I huffed out a breath, more to steady my racing pulse than anything else. “Keep talking, orc, and I’ll show you just how stiffI can be when I bury this thing between your ribs.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but the teasing edge in his tone made it hard to hold back.

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, and I fought the urge to lean into it.Gods, the things his voice alone did to me.“I’d like to see you try.” He stepped back, finally giving me space, but I could still feel the ghost of his touch lingering on my skin. “Again, and this time, pretend you’re actually trying to cut something.”

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the way my pulse thrummed as I lifted the sword, feeling its weight as the blade curved in a downward arc. The sword cut through the air with a satisfying whoosh, but the weight of it still made my arms tremble. I glanced at Dex, expecting another smug comment, but he was watching me closely, a look of approval crossing his face.

“Not bad. You might even get close to hitting something if you keep practicing like that,” he teased, tossing his own blade into the air and catching it with infuriating ease.

“Thanks...” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small, triumphant smile that tugged at my lips. “Next time, I’ll aim for your head.”

Dex’s eyes glinted with something that made my breath catch, and he twirled his blade, the movement smooth and effortless. His gaze traveled over me, lingering just long enough to make heat pool low in my stomach before he turned back to the training grounds. “I look forward to it, little shaman. But first, let’s see if you can manage to hold onto that thing without it dragging you into the ground.”

I shot him a look, tightening my right hand around the hilt. “Just because you’re built like a mountain doesn’t mean the rest of us can toss around a sword like it’s a twig.”

His rich laughter rumbled through the air as he moved to stand directly in front of me again, leaning in just enough thatI could see the heated mischief dancing in his eyes. “Size isn’t everything, you know. It’s all about technique.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry as I tried to hold my ground. “So, show me, Dex. Or are you worried I’ll catch on too quickly?”

He tilted his head, a challenge sparking in his gaze. “If you manage to surprise me, Cleo, I’ll let you take the lead in the next fight.” His voice dipped lower, his tone turning serious even as his eyes held that teasing edge. “But until then, you’ll do as I say and try not to hurt yourself, little mate.”

I lifted the blade again, trying to ignore the way his words wrapped around me. I was already aching for him, and the way he spoke only fueled the fire burning deep within me. “You’ll regret giving me the chance,” I muttered, but there was no bite behind the words this time, and as I took another swing, a part of me couldn’t help but enjoy the way Dex’s gaze held mine, an intensity there that made it impossible to look away.

I swung again, the wooden blade trembling in my grip as I met another of Dex's furious strikes. Each blow drove me back, the force of his movements sending shockwaves through my aching arms. My breath came in ragged bursts, and my muscles burned, but still, I refused to falter. The weight of his expectations pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating.

“Your stance is slipping,” Dex said with a sharp tone, his golden eyes drilling into me with unyielding intensity. “Keep your balance, little shaman. You're leaving yourself wide open.”

“I’m trying!” Frustration curled tight in my chest as I dodged another swing. “Not all of us have been training since we could walk, you know.”

His lips curled in that infuriating smirk, his blade sweeping in again, forcing me to backpedal. “You’re doing fine. Stop complaining and focus.”

I gritted my teeth, determined to hold my ground, but the uneven terrain betrayed me. My foot caught on a loose stone, and before I could correct my balance, I fell. The impact rattled through my bones, knocking the air from my lungs in a sharp gasp. My sword rolled from my grasp, a useless piece of wood against the dirt.

Dex's shadow loomed over me as he crouched, his hand outstretched. “Come on, up we go.”

But it wasn’t Dex standing over me anymore...

The ground beneath me turned cold, the air thick with the suffocating scent of stale ale and blood. My father’s voice sliced through the haze, sharp and cruel, filled with that old, familiar rage. “Useless,” he snarled, his shadow swallowing me whole. “You’re nothing but a burden.”

I tried to crawl back, my limbs leaden with terror. But before I could escape, his boot slammed into my ribs, sending pain lancing through my side. I curled inward, clutching at the ache blooming beneath my skin, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. I willed the words to my lips, but they wouldn't come. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream. I could only brace for the next blow.

“Get up.” His voice cracked like a venomous whip. “Stop crying. No one’s going to save you. You’re pathetic! Worthless?—”

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