14. Colt

Colt

While Owen prepared to heal Elian's hand, Colt scoured the rest of the camp, picking up weapons as he went. He found a knife and a bundle of makeshift arrows that he placed in his quiver, then he found his bow and their bags. He gathered up their things and collected any fruit he found before returning to Owen and Brom.

"There's no sign of anyone else here," he said. "I think it was just the four of them."

Brom's face looked bothered as he turned away from Owen and Elian and helped Colt sort their bags. Colt handed him his sword and sheath, and Brom placed it back on his belt.

"His hand was bandaged well, but it's looking infected," Owen said. "They were going to butcher him first, but didn't."

"You wouldn't butcher a sick cow," Brom said darkly.

"His body's reacting to what happened." Owen glanced up at the Wielder, then said, "I'm going to heal you. It may hurt. Understand?"

Elian nodded, then winced in pain.

Taking a deep breath, Owen ignited the purple fire in his hand. After a few seconds, the fire turned blue, and then he placed his hand on Elian's fingers.

Colt narrowed his eyes, watching as Owen healed the man. It took about a full minute, much longer than when he'd healed Brom. When Owen was done, he pulled away with a heavy sigh and slumped over.

Colt bent down and wrapped his arm around Owen's shoulders to steady him. He looked over, his brow furrowing in concern as he saw Elian move his hand around. His pinkie, index, and middle finger were still missing, but the wounds were closed, leaving nothing but red skin now where the nubs were.

Elian looked at Owen and blinked. "You didn't have to do that," he whispered, the sweat now drying on his face.

"Yes, I did," Owen said, breathless.

"Owen, can you walk?" Colt asked.

"Yes, I think so. We can just take it slow."

When Clove came up to Elian and nudged his arm with her head, whimpering, Elian patted her head. "Good girl." His voice was soft.

While Brom helped Elian to his feet, Colt supported Owen. Of the three times Colt had seen him use his Essence for healing, this had been the worst Owen had been drained of energy. He didn't like it.

They started out slowly, but within a few minutes, they all picked up their pace, and Colt was glad to see Owen walking better now. The Wielder seemed better too, though he walked with a dazed look in his eyes. He still looked pale, and Colt guessed his body still had to catch up with being healed.

When the sky darkened, they stopped to rest. Despite not wanting to draw attention, Owen made them a fire from his Dark Flame with the last of his strength before falling asleep on the ground. As they boiled a pot of water over the flames, purple lit up Brom's and Elian's faces as they looked from Owen's sleeping form to one another. Each of them looked like hell, their faces thick with grime, their cheeks sallow, and dark bags under their eyes. If they came out of Vanhelm alive, it would be a miracle.

Colt passed out fruit to them, while Owen slept on. Elian only held his food and stared into the fire. Colt gritted his teeth. Owen had healed him. The least the man could have done was thank him for it.

But the Wielder never spoke a word, and Colt and Brom hardly spoke at all as the night deepened. No one unpacked anything from their bags except for their blankets. Colt assumed they were all too on edge to do anything but sit around the fire and wait for morning. The night air was frigid, and when he glanced up at the angry dark clouds, he glanced back in the direction they had come and hoped Mordren was still far from them.

Colt leaned back against a tree and placed his hand on Owen's hip. After a while, he took out the emberstone crystal from his bag and began shaping it with the tools he took from Bridge's house. After a few hours, he dozed, and when he woke, he saw the fire burning low. Brom had laid his head back on his bag on the ground and snored softly. Beside him, Elian was still wide awake, one of his hands on Clove's back as she laid close to him. His eyes wandered, searching. Colt had never seen the man look so disturbed.

He wasn't sure what to say, and Elian didn't speak to him either, so he closed his eyes again and tried to go back to sleep. It was uncomfortable sitting like this and trying to doze, but he didn't dare move and wake Owen. After a few more hours, dawn broke, and they resumed their trek north. They walked in silence, tense and on edge, looking around at every sound they heard .

By the end of the day, they came to a wide, green river winding lazily through the trees.

"Whiteberry River!" Owen shouted.

Colt and Brom looked at each other in relief.

The end of Vanhelm.

It was a relief to see the river before them. As soon as they crossed to the other side, they would be in Acren.

"It shouldn't be hard to cross," Brom said, pointing downstream. "The river is quite shallow down that way, and not as rough."

Colt scanned the river. There were trees on both banks. An island of rocks and sand sat in the middle of the water, with a few trees growing in the center. They chose a wide and shallow reach to cross, easily fording the river and staying dry from the knees up.

"We should rest up here," Brom said, putting his bag down on Acren soil. "I'll boil some more water for us to carry."

The evening was cold, the sky a vivid blue with white clouds moving slowly. Colt inhaled the clean air, glad to be out of Vanhelm. As Owen made a fire, Colt eyed him and imagined them both settling in a house after a day of hunting and working. Colt had done a few odd jobs to earn money when he lived in Milarc, but before this journey, he was used to hunting for only himself and playing cards for coin.

But if I lived with Owen, I'd take up a job for us both. I know he would, too. He was already working before I came along.

Elian sat on a rock, his arms draped over his legs, and looked out at the water. The man had been quiet ever since they escaped the men in the woods, and Owen also seemed uneasy. He looked often at Elian with a strange, almost painful look on his face every once in a while.

Colt needed to know what happened.

Clearing his throat, Colt gestured with his head for Owen to get up and follow him. "Help me gather a few more sticks for the fire?" he asked.

Owen glanced back at Elian before he followed. The Wielder only stared into the fire, unseeing. Clove sat beside him, a stick in her mouth as if she wanted him to play with her. The wolf seemed taken with him.

While Brom collected water at the river, Colt got far enough away so they could talk. "Did something happen to you?" he asked Owen, squinting in the evening light.

"What do you mean?" Owen's brow knitted.

"Back at that camp. Did those men hurt you?"

Owen blinked at him, but then he let out a breath and said, "No. I mean, nothing more than scrapes and bruises."

This made Colt feel better. "And the Wielder?" When Owen hesitated and looked away, Colt knew something had happened. "Owen?"

"They hurt him." Owen closed his eyes and winced. "He was… half-naked when I found him."

Colt's jaw tightened. He glanced back at Elian, who was unpacking the last sack of oats from their provisions. This was the same man who had chased Owen down and threatened to kill him. But he hadn't. Now he was helping them. He was stuck out here with them to face monsters and deranged men, and he'd been violated in unspeakable ways .

We all suffer… don't we?

"I was going to tell you…" Owen said, as he picked up a stick from the ground. "But I know… Elian's feeling some sort of shame. I can sense it, and I don't want us all overwhelming him. Maybe we could… extend more kindness to him."

After what had happened, Colt would certainly offer more grace to the man. He nodded and said, "Thanks for telling me."

Owen looked up at him and smiled tenderly. He placed his hand against Colt's face, as if admiring him, and gently scratched his beard with his nails, which was a feeling Colt could get used to.

The sunlight broke through the clouds and shone against them, casting Owen's face in the orange haze of the setting sun. The amber in his eyes glowed like soft embers, and Colt's heart swelled with affection. He took Owen's hand in his, savoring his touch, and traced Owen's lips with his thumb. Then he swept his fingers through the shadow of a beard on Owen's face before he tucked a strand of dark hair behind one of his ears.

"You're so damn beautiful," he said. "Did you know that?"

Owen's face ignited with a fiery hue, and his dimples showed. "You're quite handsome yourself."

Feeling so tender with him, Colt pulled him into an embrace and held him tight, glad that neither of them, nor Brom, had been hurt by the men in the wood. But Elian… they would have to watch their words around him now.

After gathering more sticks for the fire, they made their way back to their camp and fueled the purple fire. It was a risk using it, but it was becoming harder to make a fire and keep it going, and Owen's Dark Flame was strong. It would keep them warm through most of the night as they huddled close around it .

They didn't last half the night, though, as they were woken up by Clove barking at the beasts who loped into their camp. They packed up and left, walking through the trees lining Whiteberry River. The air grew colder the further north they traveled.

When morning broke, they moved faster, and Colt noticed they'd missed any recent snow that had fallen. Patches of snow melted on the ground and on the branches, dripping down on them as the sunlight peeked out from the clouds and strained through. The colors of Acren were vibrant compared to the dull browns and grays of Vanhelm. The boughs of evergreen trees peeked through snow-laden branches. Red and orange winter berries grew on shrubs, while red-breasted birds chirped from their perches.

When the wood began to thin out, Colt let out a breath, wondering if they'd have to camp in an open field that night. When they found a backroad through the fields, they took advantage of the easy travel, walking several miles until they found a roadside inn. They found it abandoned, its windows shattered and clothes and trash scattered about the road. An emaciated dog sniffed around the trash, then ran off as they approached. Clove chased after it, but then gave up and circled back around to them.

"What the hell happened here?" Colt asked, to no one in particular. He kept an arrow strung to his bow, turning around to look behind him. The wind picked up, making the shutters on the windows slap against the side of the building.

"Perhaps the beasts?" Brom said.

A piercing screech ripped through the air, startling them all. When they saw the crow monster in the sky, they ran for the inn. Colt burst through the door, and the rest of them piled inside before shutting the door behind them. Then they peered out the windows.

The crow flew by them. Colt could hear its massive wings overhead. After a few minutes, it flew off, and he blew out a breath of air. They all drew back and looked around the quiet inn. Broken glass was scattered on the floor, and it seemed no one was here.

"Well, I guess that answers what happened," Brom said. "I don't think that bird saw us. Might as well stay here."

"We shouldn't be far from Fort Arrowcrest," Elian spoke for the first time since Owen had healed him. "We can pick up tomorrow." He turned and slowly walked down the hallway of the inn, Clove following behind him.

Colt glanced at Owen and Brom, and both of them looked back at Elian with a sort of pity in their eyes. Despite their pasts with the man, so did Colt.

The inn wasn't big, but there were at least eight rooms in the one-level building. After using the outside well to bring in a bucket of water, Colt and Owen chose a cozy room with a bed big enough for the both of them. As Owen shut the door, Colt crossed to the window and looked out. There was no sign of Shirkh now.

"We got lucky," he told Owen.

Behind him, Owen sat on the bed with a heavy sigh. Colt closed the curtain and turned to look at him closely. Owen looked so worn, but he knew they needed to wash the dirt and blood off them from the past week.

Taking up the bucket of water, Colt found a cloth and soaked it. They removed their clothes and washed, then rummaged around the drawers until they found nightclothes. Once dressed, Brom knocked on their door to give them their food—the last of the barley. Colt watched as Owen ate as much as he could before setting his bowl aside. After, Colt had Owen sit on the bed so he could wash his feet.

Owen cocked his head and smiled down at him. "Taking care of me?"

"Yes." Colt scrubbed Owen's feet, then dug his fingers into the muscles, massaging them.

Owen groaned and leaned his hands back on the bed. "That feels good."

"Anything else I can do to make you feel good?" Colt raised an eyebrow, and Owen laid on his back, covering his face with his hands.

"Yes, you can use your mouth while you're down there," he muttered.

Well damn.

He knew what Owen had meant, but instead, Colt pulled Owen's foot up to his face and kissed the arch, making Owen lean up and blink at him, his eyes wide.

"I didn't mean that," Owen said.

Colt laughed and drew up to his knees before he wedged himself between Owen's legs. He placed his hands on Owen's thighs and spread his fingers out as he smoothed his palms to his waist. He gently squeezed his sides, and Owen moved his hips so that Colt could slide his bedwear down. They slipped off so easily, which worried Colt, as Owen looked much thinner than he did even a week ago.

But Owen looked down at him with a bit of flush in his cheeks. There was hunger in those dark eyes. One that wouldn't be satisfied unless Colt gave him what he wanted.

Owen pulled his shirt up and over his head, discarding it. The muscles stacked across Owen's stomach lit a fire in Colt's belly, and he leaned down to press his lips above his navel. A soft sigh escaped Owen's lips, and he bucked his hips slightly. Colt held him gently, smoothing his hands up his back and over his waist as he kissed a trail downward. Then Owen pulled him away and bent down to kiss his lips, and Colt grabbed the back of Owen's head and deepened it.

After a moment, they broke apart, and Colt used his mouth on Owen, just as he had asked. His lover let out a ragged breath, and Colt glanced up as he pleasured him to see him lying on his back, his hands folded beneath his head.

Owen was so vulnerable around him, easily letting down his guard to allow Colt to do something like this to him. It made his mind swirl with deep feelings that raptured his heart. Nothing existed at the moment but the two of them. Nothing existed but Owen reacting to him.

When Colt felt Owen's fingers in his hair, grabbing gently, Colt clasped his arm. He loved touching him, loved feeling the heat build on his skin.

"Colt…" Owen whispered. His face flushed, and his hips moved. Then Owen placed a hand over his own mouth, and Colt pulled away as Owen spilled onto his stomach. His lover's muscles tightened, and seeing him come undone sent a jolt through him.

"Fuck," Colt whispered. He pulled Owen's hand away from his mouth so he could see Owen react, so he could hear how good it felt to him.

After he was spent, Colt got to his feet and rummaged around the drawers in the room until he found something to wipe Owen with. He cleaned him up and then Owen sat up and tugged at Colt's trousers .

He wasn't going to ask for it, but Owen seemed eager as he got to his feet to kiss him. Colt grabbed the back of his head as their lips met, while Owen's hand groped Colt's chest roughly through his shirt, his fingers undoing the buttons. Finally, Colt pulled it off, and Owen continued to touch him in that ardent way that always had Colt spellbound. His lover's palms worked into the groove of his muscles, as if Owen wanted to feel every part of him.

Colt clasped the back of his neck and pulled him close to lean his forehead against Owen's. The beat of his heart was so light, his worries melting away with each caress and gentle kiss Owen placed against him.

Sweet. That's what Owen was. Just as he liked to call him. The way Owen held him and touched him was feather-light, full of desperate yearning.

Still standing, Owen's hand moved down Colt's body, feeling along his hips, and Colt moaned as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against his shoulder. Then that hand went lower to grab his cock, and Colt's arm wound around Owen, his hand gripping the cheek of his ass.

When Owen started to move down to his knees, Colt held him, stopping him. "No, stay right here. This is good," he rasped. "Whisper in my ear. Tell me something sweet…"

Owen regarded him with soft eyes, then he smiled and moved close to Colt's ear and whispered, "You're the most amazing man I've ever seen. I can't believe that out of everyone in this world, you chose me…"

Colt looked down at him in surprise. He sucked air in through his teeth, then grabbed Owen and said, "I'll choose you a thousand times over." He moved to the bed and pulled Owen down with him, then turned them over until Colt lay over him. Their lips met, and they kissed deeply.

They fell into each other so easily, and as Colt hiked Owen's leg up around his hip and kissed along his neck, Owen gave a little laugh that made Colt moan. He was in a state of elation that had his skin burning with a thrilling hum. Feeling his lover's hands on his hips, moving along with the gentle buck, made the moment all the sweeter as their fingers interlaced.

Colt could feel himself building inside, and he couldn't help but move his hands to grab Owen's hair. His fingers tightened in those thick dark strands as his hips thrusted with more vigor, more heat. He let himself go, baring himself completely in front of this man. His fingers tightened. His body tensed. The breathy moans that escaped his throat were drawn out as he hit his peak.

It was rapturous. Intense. Blissful.

It was everything.

"Owen…" Colt sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his head on Owen's shoulder, spent. He swallowed against his dry throat and winced. Doing that had taken so much out of him. But this was a different sort of exhaustion. This made his mind swirl with good feelings, feelings that made him want to curl up in the bed and go to sleep against Owen and forget about everything.

Colt looked up, and their eyes met. He smiled, admiring the flush in Owen's cheeks and the glow in his eyes. Something ached deep in his chest, giving Colt the desire to tell him how he felt. But part of him was afraid.

How do I tell someone I love them? Just come out with it?

When Owen snored softly, Colt looked up to find his eyes closed and his arm up over his head. Colt sighed softly, then gazed down at him as he slept. He wasn't one to worry about the future, but the dire circumstances they faced crashed down on him at that moment while watching Owen breathe so softly, feeling safe enough to fall asleep with him.

He had to continue to keep Owen safe. There was no other option. Because now he was in too deep with him, and if something happened to this Shadowborn who had stolen his heart, he'd want to give up living.