21. Owen

Owen

" You have nowhere to hide."

Owen woke up gasping for air, feeling as if he couldn't breathe, but then the cool air of the room filled his lungs, and he calmed. He was still safe, at least at the moment.

A gentle hand found his, and he turned to Colt in the bed, squeezing him for comfort. "I heard his voice, Colt," Owen said, his voice shaking. "He's everywhere. He's part of me…"

Colt scooted closer. "You don't have to do this, Owen. Luthien has an army. We can ride there instead. Let them take care of Mordren."

"They would only detain us both. The Legion will never stop trying to capture me. Elian and Harlan even said so. Then I would have no chance of defeating Mordren."

"Who says it has to be you?" Colt pulled away and looked into Owen's eyes, and in the early dawn light seeping in from the window behind them, Owen caught Colt's worried face. "Anyone could kill Mordren. I could kill him."

"No." Owen shook his head. "I'm not letting someone else deal with my mistake. Not you, nor a city of people who will be next if I fail."

"This isn't your burden to carry alone."

"I opened the Gate, it's my responsibility. "

"And I was there when it happened!" Colt's voice was harsh, but it was enough to make Owen shut his mouth and stare at him. Colt pointed at his own chest and said, "I went into the Gate too. I've been there with you every step of the way. I saw that damn dagger glow from the beginning, and I saved you from being killed by Elian. I helped you come into this country and run from a fucking madman!" Colt took a calming breath and quieted his voice. "I came after you through that Gate, Owen, and I know the only reason you opened it was to make sure I wasn't killed."

Owen watched Colt carefully, endeared at how vulnerable he could be and eager to hear what he would say next.

Colt leaned forward and took Owen's face in his hands. "This isn't your burden to carry alone. It's not solely your responsibility. I have no plans to leave you alone to carry out this battle. Because the fault is mine too, and I will lay down my life to make amends, just as you would. Just as every soldier in this fort would. Each man here has sworn to protect the people of Avathon. You can't take that away from them. Stop putting this burden on yourself."

"I know…" Owen smiled painfully against Colt's hands. Yes, Colt would fight for him, even die trying, but he didn't want Colt to. The idea of losing him was unbearable.

"I'm so afraid, Colt. I've never been this afraid of anything in my entire life. I just wish…" He closed his eyes and thought of his uncle. If anyone would know what to do, it was him. "I wish Amias was here."

Colt clasped Owen's shoulder before pulling him into an embrace. "So do I."

Owen and Colt got up early and ate breakfast. Colt had finished working on the handle of the emberstone knife and gave it to Owen to look over. Owen didn't know much about creating weapons, nor about shaping rocks, but it was intriguing to see the crystal formed into a sizable knife. Colt had sharpened it enough that it looked able to pierce a human…

But a god?

The knife glowed dimly in reaction to Owen's Essence. He turned the blade around in his hand. The weapon was crafted perfectly. It was clear Colt had put a great deal of care into it. The handle was impressive; a carved piece of wood held the blade, and there were strips of leather wrapped around it for a solid grip. When Owen touched the tip of the blade, he gasped and drew his finger back, feeling slightly dizzy for a moment. A small speck of blood pooled on his fingertip.

"This is amazing," he told Colt.

Owen could hardly imagine that an instrument this small and inconsequential would dispatch a god. It felt so small in his hands. He imagined failing with the knife and watching as Harlan and his soldiers fell to the evil god's wrath. He shuddered and closed his eyes.

"Here," Colt pulled a leather sheath from his bag and slipped the knife into it. "This goes on your belt."

Owen fixed it to his belt. "It's perfect, Colt."

Colt smiled and took his hand. "Want to come with me to the training yard? I need to practice."

"Yes. I want to see how good you've gotten. "

"It's interesting," Colt said suddenly as they walked through the fort.

"What is?" Owen asked.

"You lived in Emberton, and then we learn about emberstone while on this journey, and funny enough, that's what's needed to defeat Mordren. Odd, don't you think? You know, ember ." Colt moved his hand around, his lips cracking into a smile.

"I guess so." Owen gave him a lopsided smile. "But it could also just be a coincidence."

"Right, I had shit like that happen to me when I lived in Luthien." Colt sniffed and scratched his nose. "Little signs that maybe I was veering down a path I shouldn't. 'Course, that was all the time. But there were times where this nudge in my mind was telling me to do something differently from what I was doing, and if I'd ignored it, I'd probably be dead. Several times."

Owen laughed. "That's just your inner voice telling you not to do stupid things."

As they came to the training yard, they met with an older man named Uriah, and Colt introduced him to Owen. The man was tall and lean, with dark, graying hair and brown eyes. He reminded Owen of Amias, especially when he gave them cups of something he called coffee. Uriah's eyes danced as he waited for them to try it.

It smelled amazing, rich and nothing like tea. Owen took a drink but found it was rather bitter. He tried not to make a face.

"It's become quite popular over here," Uriah told them. "It's a common thing in Yvora. It's even better with cream and sugar mixed into it, but the cook is stingy in handing those over."

Not wanting to insult the man, Owen drank as much as he could, but he could hardly stomach it. Colt seemed to enjoy it, and Owen was happy to see him take pleasure in something so simple.

"Warm your body," Uriah instructed as he collected his sword. Colt began to run in place, and Owen stood against a railing to watch from afar. After just a few sparring rounds, Owen was in awe of how much Colt had learned in such a short time. But he also recalled all the times Colt and Brom had sparred with each other on the road too. Part of him wanted to join in again, to prepare him for Mordren. But Owen knew it wouldn't matter.

"That your bloke?" someone asked.

Owen turned his head to see a man leaning over the rail, nodding out at Colt. He smiled and said, "Yes. He's with me."

"He's not bad. Quick learner."

"He's had some practice. No formal training, though."

The man chuckled. "Tell him good luck. We're gonna need it."

Owen frowned as he watched the man walk away. He wondered the soldier's name, if he had a spouse or children. Some of the soldiers looked so young, he wondered how long ago they had left their parents' home. Owen stared at the men going about their duties in the courtyard and wondered how many would see their loved ones again.

One thing he was certain of was that there weren't enough men here to fight Mordren's army. He hoped Elian would make it to Luthien soon for reinforcements. He had taken Clove along with him, which made Owen feel better. Hopefully, the wolf-dog would aid him there. If no men were sent, Owen shuddered to think what would happen. After the fort was taken, if Owen couldn't stop Mordren, Luthien would be next.

How many men will die ?

Hot bile rose in Owen's chest, and his stomach twisted at the thought of the men in this fort—the soldiers of the Legion—fighting a battle that he had created. The people who'd dedicated their lives to keeping the Gate closed had failed, and it was Owen's fault. Now, innocent people were in danger. Not just in Avathon, but possibly in Milarc and the other countries as well.

He couldn't let that happen.

This was his responsibility. He would defeat Mordren. He had to.

That evening, after they'd eaten, Owen and Colt went to the baths and washed before they retired early to their room. With Brom on night watch, they had time to spend alone, which Owen was thankful for. But his mind was all over the place. He was anxious and afraid of the impending doom he felt looming closer, but he also wanted to indulge in his lover.

Once they changed out of their clothes, Owen approached Colt and took his hand. The air was charged with yearning, and Owen's heart was glowing warm like embers. He slid his hand up Colt's bare chest, and as Colt reached up and touched his fingers, Owen stood on his toes to capture his lips in a fiery kiss.

When they broke away, Owen met Colt's hazel eyes in the firelight. "Will you hold me?" he whispered.

"All night," Colt whispered.

Owen lay on the bed. The cot creaked as Colt pressed up behind him. It was hardly big enough for them to lie any way but on their sides, but it was enough with Colt pressed up against him from behind.

For a moment, they lay there in silence, with Colt's arm slung over Owen's waist, his fingers drawing gentle circles on his hip. Colt kissed his ear gently, and then the skin below it. His warm mouth left a blazing trail along his jaw. Owen tilted his head so his lover could kiss him better, and he let out a breath of pleasure at the tingling sensation it gave his body.

Colt gently grabbed hold of Owen's chin and turned his head so they could share a kiss. Owen closed his eyes against the feel of Colt's tongue. His lover took his bottom lip between his lips before kissing him again.

He let out a moan as Colt's hands smoothed down his chest and down to his stomach. He felt so vulnerable in this man's arms, his body flushed and hungry for his coarse hands and warm mouth as his lips wetted the places against his skin.

"I want you," Owen breathed. "I want you so badly."

"You have me," Colt murmured against Owen's skin.

Owen's fingers found Colt's hand and guided it to the sensitive curve of his backside. "I want you here," he urged. "You said you would."

When Colt froze for a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes, Owen locked onto his gaze. They were so close, skin to skin, and the intensity in Colt's stare went beyond lust—it was filled with a tenderness that made Owen's heart flutter.

A crooked smile tugged at Colt's lips before he captured Owen's mouth in a passionate kiss—the kind that left them breathless and yearning. As they pulled apart, Colt slipped a finger into Owen's mouth, and he sucked it gently.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Colt removed his finger and slid his hand down to Owen's backside, exploring the sensitive flesh there. Owen had prepared himself for this, wanting nothing more than to feel Colt's touch. The sensation of Colt's massaging fingers sent waves of pleasure through his body. A smile broke across his face, full of bliss and longing. Owen let out a hot breath as Colt sank his finger deeper into him. He could take this. He craved it.

"Hold on a moment," Colt whispered, his finger suddenly retreating. Owen let out a soft whine in protest. Luckily, the moment didn't last long, and Colt was back against him, this time with something slick against his fingers. It felt like oil, and there was also a slight flowery scent to it. Colt must have nabbed something from the bathhouse.

Owen felt Colt's oiled finger slip inside him slowly, moving in and out, just as he had done many times to himself before Colt came into his life. His lover was gentle with him, showering him with kisses as he prepared him. And then Owen felt Colt's hard length against him, making his body jolt with excitement.