Page 47 of Bound in Flames

A strangled cry tore from my throat as I blinked, the past bleeding into the present. Dex’s voice pierced the fog, rough and urgent. “Cleo!” His voice pulled at me, distant but insistent. “Breathe. Look at me. You’re safe.”

The world snapped back into sharp focus, and horror curdled in my stomach. Vines had erupted from the earth, thick and sinuous, coiling around Dex’s powerful frame. They pulsed with an eerie silver glow, twisting tighter with each heartbeat, binding him like a prisoner. His practice sword lay abandoned,forgotten, as he fought to break free, his muscles straining beneath the grip of my magic.

“Cleo,” Dex rasped, his voice raw with effort. His eyes burned into mine, “You need to stop this. Fight the fear.”

Around us, the training grounds had fallen silent, save for the muttered voices of the orcs who had gathered, weapons raised in cautious fear. Thorn stepped forward, his sword biting into the vines, but they only lashed out in retaliation, knocking him back with a sharp crack.

“Stay back!” Dex barked, his chest heaving as the vines squeezed tighter, his voice strained with the effort to breathe. “I said,stay back!”

The weight of their stares pressed against me, heavy with a fear that cut deeper than any blade. I could hear the whispers, sharp and unforgiving.

“She’ll kill him?—”

“—Dangerous—”

Dex's voice tore through my spiraling panic, dragging me from the edge. “Cleo!” he pleaded, his strength ebbing as the vines constricted further. “You can stop this.”

Tears burned down my cheeks as I clawed for control, my fingers trembling as I leap to my feet, reaching for the magic simmering beneath my skin. It fought against me, wild and unruly, slipping through my grasp like sand. But I pushed harder, desperation clawing at my throat. I focused on Dex’s voice, the steady, unwavering command beneath the strain.

Slowly, the vines loosened their grip, slithering back into the ground until they were gone. Dex staggered forward, a ragged breath tearing from his chest as he clutched his ribs. Around us, the orcs lowered their weapons, their faces etched with relief, suspicion, and fear.

My knees buckled, and I crumpled to the ground, sobs wracking my body. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, my voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to-I didn’t!”

Dex dropped to his knees in front of me, his golden eyes soft with understanding. His touch was light as he brushed damp strands of hair from my face. “Cleo, it’s okay. You stopped it. That’s what matters.”

I shook my head, the knot in my chest growing tighter. “It’s not okay,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I saw my father. When you leaned over me, I thought… I thought it was him.”

Dex's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous. “I could kill that man for what he did to you.” His fingers tightened briefly before his voice gentled. “But you’re here, Cleo. You’re safe. And you fought back.”

My gaze dropped to the ground, shame curling deep in my gut. “You should hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” His voice was fierce.

Before I could argue, he scooped me into his arms as if I weighed nothing, his embrace a shield against the prying eyes around us. I buried my face into his chest, the steady drum of his heartbeat drowning out the whispers I couldn’t escape.

Dex turned to the gathered warriors, his voice a low, commanding growl. “Get back to work.Now.”

The orcs hesitated, their gazes flickering between us before they turned, retreating into their training with wary glances cast in my direction. Their fear lingered, a weight I could feel pressing into my bones.

As Dex carried me away, I clung to him, my fingers curled tightly into his shirt. The whispers, the fear, they would always be there. But in his arms, I could pretend—for just a moment—that they weren’t crushing me from the inside out.

Chapter 25

Dex

The stars seemed closer up here, scattered like shards of ice across the velvet sky. I had brought her to the highest roof of the stronghold, far from the whispers and judgment of the training grounds. Cleo sat beside me on the wide stone ledge, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her head bowed. She hadn’t spoken since I carried her here, and I didn’t push her.

The silence stretched, broken only by the distant sounds of the stronghold below, murmurs of voices, the clang of weapons, the hum of a place that never truly slept. But none of the chaos reached us. Up here, it was just the two of us.

She was still trembling, though she was trying to hide it. Her hands twisted in her lap, her fingers pale from how tightly she gripped them. The silvery moonlight painted her features with an almost ethereal glow, softening the sharpness of her exhaustion and the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks. She was beautiful in a way that defied logic, her human features so different from mine, so delicate—and yet she carried a beauty that made my chest ache.

I could still feel the ghost of the vines on my chest, but it wasn’t the magic that haunted me. It was the thought of howafraid she’d been, how deeply scarred she still was by what she’d endured before she came to us. Before she became mine to protect.

I’m sorry for pushing you too hard. For… triggering bad memories.” The word felt foreign on my tongue, too small to encompass the storm I’d seen in her eyes, the fear and pain that had gripped her so tightly. “I didn’t know, Cleo. I didn’t know about your father. If I had?—”

“It’s not your fault,” she interrupted, shaking her head. Her voice sharpened, a hint of stubbornness breaking through the vulnerability. “I’m the one who lost control. I’m the one who hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me."

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