Page 8 of Bound in Flames

“You’re wrong. If they’re so afraid of us, why not just leave us alone?” she asked.

“Because fear makes people stupid, and humans have been for a long time. Look around you, Cleo. Your kind is hunted, my people are scattered, and the only ones who benefit are the cowards in their castles.”

The wagon lurched again, and she flinched, her chains rattling. I softened my voice. “You’ll never be safe with them. The only place you’ll find safety is with the clans. With me.”

Her eyes locked onto mine, a spark flaring in their depths like embers catching fire. “And why should I trust you?” she demanded, her voice sharp, each word laced with challenge.

“You shouldn’t,” I admitted. “But I’m your best chance. Unless you’d rather see what the Crown planned for you.”

She didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a thin, stubborn line, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, weighing the risk, calculating the odds. Smart girl. She wasn’t the type to leap without looking, but I could tell she wasn’t one to stay idle for long either.

Her gaze flickered briefly to the guards before snapping back to me. She didn’t trust me. That was smart too. Trust would come later. For now, though, I could see the consideration in her eyes. She was already thinking, already planning.

One of the guards approached, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. I straightened, schooling my expression to that of boredom. He sneered but didn’t say anything, retreating to adjust the oxen’s harness. My grin returned as I turned back to Cleo.

I inclined me head towards our captors. “They’re sloppy. The one with the limp wouldn’t make it ten paces if I went for his weak leg. That one’s armor? It’s loose enough to ram a blade through and still have room to twist. Their leader thinks he’s untouchable, but he’s careless.”

Surprise flickered across her face at my detailed assessment of the guards. “You really think you can take them?” Her tone hovered between doubt and curiosity.

“I can get us out of here, but I’ll need your help. Turns out, my wit isn’t quite strong enough to bust these chains. Who knew?”

She let out an amused snort. It caught me off guard, a flicker of warmth breaking through her guarded demeanor, and I thought I saw her lips twitch as if fighting a reluctant smile.

“You’re a distraction,” I said simply, “Give me a window, and I’ll do the rest. Just think of it as giving my ego a little backup. Think you can manage that, little shaman?”

Her expression hardened, but she didn’t refuse. The silence hung there, weighted with unspoken questions and the fragile threads of reluctant trust. “You don’t have to decide now,” I said, my tone softer, though my eyes stayed on her. “But if we’re going to survive this, we need to work together. Whatever you think of me, I’m not your enemy.”

She hesitated, her gaze flicking to mine, lingering as if searching for truth in my words. Finally, she whispered, “What happens after?”

I tilted my head, studying her expression, trying to gauge where her mind had wandered. “After?”

Her throat bobbed in a barely perceptible swallow. “If we get out of this...what then?”

I let out a quiet breath, keeping my tone steady, calm—the kind of voice someone desperate to feel safe might cling to. “You come with me. My clan will offer you refuge, a place where you can truly understand what it means to be a shaman. To learn to wield the kind of power you have.” I paused, watching her closely, gauging the flicker of doubt and defiance in her eyes. “With us, you’d be safe. No one would dare touch you.”

Safe. It wasn’t a lie, exactly—at least not in the way she’d hear it. But safety came with a cost, one I was willing to risk for the future of my people. She didn’t need to know about the prophecy, not yet. That truth would come later, when she was ready to understand the burden of what she was meant to become. And the warnings? I pushed them aside, locking them in the part of my mind I couldn’t afford to dwell on. If she was strong enough, she’d survive.

Her gaze didn’t waver, her chin lifting just a fraction, enough to remind me of the spark that had caught my attention in the first place. Her sharp tongue might have irritated others, but it only made me want to push harder, to see how far that fire could burn. A dangerous thought, one I couldn’t indulge.

I leaned back, keeping my expression neutral. “Think about it, little shaman. You’re stronger than you know. With the right guidance, you could change everything.”

Her expression flashed with a mix of skepticism and something else. Hope, maybe. “And if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go you think will be safe.”

Her gaze lingered on me before she looked away. I let out a quiet breath, my mind already racing with plans. But to my surprise, I felt a strange warmth creeping in as I replayed the soft snort she’d let out. It was such a small thing, but it had been enough to make my chest tighten. Was I really preening under her attention? I almost laughed at myself. She’d probably roll her eyes if she knew. The humans thought they had us trapped, but they’d underestimated me. They always did. And they had no idea what Cleo was capable of, but they would.

The sound of heavy boots crunching against dirt drew my attention. Two guards approached the wagon, their laughter low and crude. My eyes narrowed as one of them leaned closer to Cleo, his words vulgar. “Bet the shaman’s got tricks that don’t need magic, eh?” His companion snickered like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“Got some curves on her, though,” the first added, his eyes roaming over Cleo in a way that made my blood boil. “Shame she’s not my type. I don’t go for the plump ones.” The other guard burst out laughing, the sound rough and grating, like boots scraping over stone.

Cleo stiffened, her eyes fixed on the horizon, her knuckles whitening in her grip on the bars. She didn’t say a word, but the tension radiating from her was palpable. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to lunge at them. The chains rattled as my hands flexed, the metal biting into my wrists. They were lucky the cuffs held. If they hadn’t, their blood would already be soaking the dirt beneath their feet.

They lingered, laughter growing louder as they jeered. “What’s the matter? Too good to talk to us? Come on, shaman, give us a smile.”

When Cleo kept her gaze fixed forward, her chin lifted in silent defiance, the first guard’s face twisted with irritation. His scowl deepened, a vein ticking at his temple. “Thinks she’s better than us!”

I couldn’t help the amusement that tugged at the corner of my mouth, nor the heat that stirred somewhere deeper. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t cower. Even now, bruised and bound, she carried herself like she was untouchable. That quiet rebellion wasn’t just admirable—it was maddeningly enticing.

---