Page 9 of Bound in Flames

I shifted against the weight of my own chains, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from her. It wasn’t the time, and it sure as hell wasn’t the place. But that fire in her? It was dangerous for more reasons than the guards knew.

The angry guard hauled himself onto the wagon, the wood creaking under his weight. He seized Cleo by the upper arm, yanking her forward. Her face slammed against the iron bars, the metallic clang echoing through the empty roadway. The sickening crack of impact made my stomach twist as she let out a groan. Blood trickled down her face in a thin, dark line, pooling at the edge of a gash that split her brow. "Got a little color now, shaman." His grin widened. "But don’t worry, I’ll fix it."

Leaning in, his tongue snaked the thin line of blood trailing from her cheekbone. Cleo flinched, a small whimper escaping her. My vision went red as my claws instinctively curled into fists, the sharp tips piercing my palms. A low warning growl rumbled deep in my chest, loud enough to draw their attention.

"Beast’s growling like he’s gonna chew through those chains."

The guard’s grip on Cleo’s arm slackened, and he spat at my feet, his sneer barely masking the hesitation in his movements.“Not worth the trouble,” he muttered, trying to sound sure of himself, but the faint waver in his voice betrayed him. With one last glance, he climbed off the wagon, his bravado crumbling with each step. Their hollow laughter echoed behind them as they retreated, leaving the sour stench of sweat and cheap ale hanging in the air.

Cleo’s shoulders remained stiff. Her breaths were shallow but controlled despite the blood still trailing down her face. Blood trickled down her face in slow, uneven streams, but she made no move to wipe it away, as if the act of ignoring it gave her some small measure of control. The defiance in her green eyes burned brighter as she turned to look at me, her jaw set with a determination that made my chest tighten. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears of rage, each drop a reflection of the storm brewing within her. I realized then that if she were ever given the chance, that passion and fury would make her a devastatingly powerful shaman. Her magic, fueled by this raw, unyielding anger, could reach unimaginable heights. And I knew if I could harness it, I could use that to help my clan survive.

“What do I need to do?” she asked quietly, her voice steady despite the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

I should have looked away, should have forced my thoughts back to the task at hand, but I couldn’t. Something about her, raw and unyielding even in pain, pulled at me. It wasn’t just admiration; it was magnetic, dangerous in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

“Be ready to distract them. At the next stop, ask for a break to relieve yourself. That’s when we move.”

Her brow furrowed. “Distract them how?”

I hesitated, the words lodging in my throat before I forced them out. “They’re drawn to you. The way they look at you, the things they say… If you’re willing, we can use that to our advantage.”

Her face hardened, the fire in her eyes flaring. I thought she might snap at me, but then she exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable. “If it gets us out of here, I can do that.”

Her calm acceptance made my chest ache in a way I didn’t like. My fists clenched involuntarily as the images of what the guards had already done flashed in my mind. My voice dropped, rough with anger. “I swear to you, Cleo, they’ll pay for every insult and bruise. I’ll make sure they regret every second they dared to lay a hand on you.”

"Okay." Her glassy eyes met mine and I caught a glimpse of the vulnerability she had been trying to hide. Her voice trembled, as though the dehumanizing treatment she’d endured was cracking through her armor. I felt something primal stir within me. A protectiveness I hadn’t known I was capable of for a human. It was confusing, so I shoved it aside to reflect on it later.

"If there was another way, I’d never ask you to put yourself at their mercy like this, but I need you to push one of them from the cart, just enough for me to grab him. Once I have him, I’ll get the keys, and we’ll make our move. They won’t have a chance to stop us, and they will never lay a hand on you again."

""If I was to trust you, how do I know your clan will accept me?”

I let the weight of my words settle between us. "Because I am Dex Kenryr, Chieftain of the Blackfoot Clan. My word is law. You'll have a place among us, Cleo. A place where you can learn, grow, and wield the power that's rightfully yours."

Her lips parted in surprise evident. "You're the Chieftain?" she asked, skepticism creeping into her tone.

"I am. And I don't offer refuge lightly. You'd be one of us, not an outsider. If you choose to follow me, the clan will protect you and so will I."

Chapter 5

Cleo

The creak of the wagon wheels scraped against my nerves with every rotation. I tried to focus on it, on anything, to keep my mind from spiraling into the pit of fear that gnawed at the edges of my sanity. My wrists throbbed against the cuffs, the absence of that faint hum of my power still felt like an open wound. The future loomed ahead. Knights Hold. Trial. Execution. All for something I couldn’t control. The word "shaman" had become my death sentence.

My gaze drifted to the orc chained behind the wagon. Dex, Chieftain of the Blackfoot Clan. The words he’d spoken earlier lingered in my mind. Refuge.Safety. It sounded too good to be true, a promise wrapped in steel and sharp edges. But could I trust him? My options were as thin as the layer of grime coating my skin. Death at the hands of the Crown, or an alliance with the strange, golden-eyed orc who was either my salvation or another danger.

“What troubles you, little shaman?” Dex asked, breaking the silence. His voice rumbled like distant thunder, a low sound that seemed to wrap around my thoughts.

I scowled, hating how easily he seemed to read me. "I was thinking about what you said earlier. About your clan."

His lips curved into a slow grin. "The prospect of survival suits you. Go on, ask your questions."

"You’re their Chieftain. What does that even mean? Are you like a King or something?" I asked, keeping my voice low. The guards walking alongside the wagon were too preoccupied to care, but I couldn’t risk them overhearing anything that might make things worse. And this sounded like information that might have Dex cut down while in chains.

He chuckled, the sound both amused and weary. "A King? No. A Chieftain leads by respect, not a throne. My people trust me because I’ve earned it. It’s not a crown, but it’s no less weighty."

"And yet here you are," I said before I could stop myself. "Chained like the rest of us."

His grin faded, replaced by a shadowed look. "We were traveling through the Wild Lands, trading with a clan in the Marsh. Humans ambushed us. I led them away from my people. The guards had no idea who I was. If they knew, I’d be dead by now. So, if you could keep that to yourself, I’d appreciate it."

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