2. Owen

The road was muddy, and already Owen's boots were so cold and wet, he could no longer feel his toes. He was tired, his eyes burning against the frigid gusts of wind that blew their way every few seconds. But each hour they walked, the closer the mountains neared.

Pitchvale is somewhere near those mountains.

He pulled his green wool cloak tighter around him, wishing he had enough money to buy an overcoat. The freezing afternoon air seemed to go right through him. What if it snowed before they reached the mountains? They didn't have the proper shoes and clothing, and food would be even more difficult to come by.

Owen had sponged himself off at the inn two days ago, but he needed a full bath. He was sure he smelled, and his companions looked no better. They had all managed to clean their faces and hands from their fight with the Geesh in the sewers that led into caves out of Milarc, but the stink lingered on their clothes, and the grime went further than what Owen could see.

Sighing, he kept his eyes ahead, shifting his thoughts to their escape from Covehaven's prison. He'd endured the Cleansing ritual initiated by Elian, and the memory of it brought back a pain so deep, he grimaced and pressed his arm against his stomach. It had felt as though the man had tried to rip something from deep inside him, a force that refused to leave him—his Essence, the source of the power he held.

He was thankful that his companions had come to his aid, but as long as Owen was Shadowborn, the Legion would continue to look for him. He couldn't stay in one place too long. Instead, Owen focused on the land to keep his mind off things. The region of Rookhold was a vast land of vibrant green valleys and rocky hills that dipped high and low throughout the landscape. Ahead of them, the blue mountains framed the backdrop of the dreary sky. From this distance, they were a marvel to behold.

"Sign up ahead," Brom called. "Looks like eight miles to Ivormor."

"Ivormor?" Colt's brow pinched. "I've heard of the town but haven't been there."

"It should be full of… well, scoundrels like ourselves." Brom shrugged. "But it's a big town. Not sure if it would be wise to visit."

"Blending can help us," Owen broke in. "Remember how big Edgewater was? We're ahead of the Wielder down here. There may be no bounties yet."

"He has a point." Gilda nodded. "We really need to stock up on food and clothes for winter. And if we're to keep clear of inns, we'll also need a tent. We can get them in Ivormor while we're ahead and steer clear of villages and towns unless the weather forces our hand. What say you?"

Stopping at the sign, Colt crossed his arms. "Owen's the scout. What does he think?"

When Owen caught Colt's smooth gaze in the gusty chill, his skin tingled at the way those brownish-green eyes studied him with yearning and worry.

"We need supplies. We'll go to Ivormor." Owen made his way forward, walking alongside Colt while Gilda and Brom trailed behind.

Their trek through uneven ground and rocky slopes proved more difficult than they had anticipated. Tired, hungry, and cold, they were slowed significantly by the windy weather and terrain. By the time evening fell, they had no choice but to camp again, but the wind was so high, they couldn't light a fire.

Owen huffed warmth into his hands as he stood behind a lone tree in the valley. Even through the gloves Colt had given him to wear in Milarc, they were icy. He walked down a slight hill, where the wind wasn't so fierce, and gazed out at the valley in the remaining sunlight.

When Colt came up beside him, Owen looked over, and for a second his whole body warmed, but then the wind stole the heat away from him, and he shivered.

"You alright?" Colt asked.

"No…" Owen's lips quivered, and Colt stepped closer. "It's freezing. Don't you see me shivering?"

Colt took Owen's chin gently in his hand, and Owen's heart sped up. "Living so far up north in Emberton, and you can't handle this cold?"

This man's affections toward him were still so new, Owen had to blink a few times before he realized Colt was talking to him. When had anyone ever shown him such tenderness with a simple touch? And then there was Colt's voice, so deep and husky, that Owen couldn't help but bite his lip when he heard that handsome voice speak to him so sweetly.

"I need you to keep me warm tonight," Owen got out, his teeth chattering now.

Colt opened his cloak and pulled Owen against him, and Owen craned his head up slightly to gaze at his companion in the twilight. At his full height, the top of Owen's head came to Colt's mouth.

When Owen smiled, Colt dipped down, taking Owen's lips against his own.

How his heart raced, feeling those cold lips. It wouldn't take long for him to warm them. Owen longed to know what Colt's skin tasted like too, but such pleasure would have to wait. Colt parted his lips for more and framed Owen's face with both hands as he kissed him gently, and Owen slid the tip of his tongue against Colt's.

Such a kiss was intoxicating, and the bitter cold turned into a hot summer day, warming every vein in his body. Without realizing it, Owen grabbed Colt's shirt and pulled him closer, until their mouths crushed desperately, tongues sliding in and gliding over, heads tilted and pressing for more.

When Owen broke away, breathless, he looked up at his companion. They both panted as they gazed at each other, their breaths coming out in white tufts against the freezing air.

Both of them laughed, then Colt looked around again, and Owen's teeth chattered once more. His head floated, his heart going with it, and he laid his head against Colt's chest. He closed his eyes as those strong arms held him close, and he breathed in the honey and lemon scent exuding from Colt that he'd come to know and love as he nuzzled his face against his companion's shirt.

Where would he be without this man? Captured, or dead. Colt made him feel… safe. Such thoughts made Owen think of his Uncle Amias, and when his mind turned to the scene of Amias shot down with arrows on the road in Milarc, he tightened his hold around Colt.

"What's wrong?" Colt whispered.

"Just thinking about Amias. I hope he's okay. I miss him."

"I know." Colt's chin rested on Owen's head. "I miss him too, but he's still alive, Owen. We'll see him again, I know it."

Colt had known Amias for years, and they seemed to be friends, or perhaps there was a love-hate fatherly and son bond between them. Either way, Owen hoped Colt was right.

When a gruff, playful snarl broke them apart, Owen gasped as he looked over and saw the black wolf again, standing close by with its tongue hanging out.

"Shit," Colt started, looking around. "It's back."

Owen pulled away from Colt and took a step toward the wolf. At first, the animal moved back, but when Owen bent down on one knee and held his hand out, its nose quivered and it moved forward, sniffing the air.

"What are you doing?" Colt whispered, bending down with him.

"It won't hurt us, Colt. I can feel it. It's curious."

"It must have left its pack. It's always alone."

Owen glanced over at Colt, who was level with him now. "I don't even think it's a wolf. At least, not fully. It looks like a wolf-dog." He lowered his voice as he held his hand out to it. "When I stayed with the Gallows, they had two wolf-dogs, bred from wolf and mutt. They were very sweet. See how much smaller it is than a wolf?"

Even so, as the animal approached, Colt put a protective arm out, but Owen took it and squeezed him gently.

Smiling, Owen said, "It's alright. She won't hurt us."

"Oh, so now you know it's a she?"

"I could be wrong, but that's what I sense. Come here, girl. I won't hurt you."

The wolf came up to him and gave a playful whimper. She sniffed Owen's hand, then licked it before she rose on her hind legs and placed her front paws on Owen's shoulders.

"Whoa!" Owen laughed as he grasped her gently, his fingers planting in her soft black fur. The wolf seemed eager for affection, and she pushed onto Owen until he fell on his back in the dirt.

Colt grunted as he tried to get the animal off him, but when Owen laughed, Colt pulled away, his face puzzled.

Owen pushed slightly against the animal as she licked his face. "She's very playful. Here, Colt, put your hand out to her." When Owen managed to sit up, he grabbed Colt's hand and held it out.

Colt's lips twitched into a smile as he moved toward her, but the wolf looked disinterested in him and made a gruff noise in her throat before backing away. Colt's face fell, his shoulders slumping.

"Well," he started, putting his arm down, "guess she doesn't like me."

"I'm sure she just has to warm up to you." Owen put a hand on his shoulder, and Colt smirked at him. When the wolf whined, Owen stared at her as she trotted forward, then she looked back at him. "Maybe we should follow her."

"Where?"

The wolf whined again, as if she wanted them to follow. Then Owen squinted and looked in the distance. Something was there, perched on the hill.

A building?

"I want to follow her," Owen said, then he turned. "I think we should."

"Owen…" Colt hung his head, then he placed his hands on his hips and looked up, as if searching him. "Alright, you're the scout, after all. If you think we should go, we'll go. Just hope she's not leading us to a man with a Core."

It was fully dark by the time they came to the abandoned building on the hill. The wolf had led them right to it, and Owen, following closely, had gotten ahead of his companions, hoping to keep the animal in his sight in the dark.

His heart pounded as he stumbled on the stones leading to the house, and then he looked around in the moonlight, panting. It looked like the building had been someone's home at one time, but it was now overgrown with moss and creeping vines. As Owen stepped up onto the porch, the boards creaked under his boots. The door was cracked open, and when he pushed on it, pieces of wood chipped off.

Inside, the room was empty except for a few piles of rubbish. The windows were mostly intact, with a few cracks in one.

"I am not… ever… running like that again after a dog." Gilda huffed as she came up onto the porch.

"Even if it finds us something like this?" Brom panted as he came into the house.

"I thought you wanted to kill the mangy beast!" Gilda set her bag on the floor.

"Not anymore."

Colt came in last and shut the door. "Let's hope no one else is hiding out here."

"Even if they are, I'm not leaving." Gilda blew out a breath and began unrolling her blankets.

Owen picked a spot near the middle of the room to make a pallet, and Colt bent down to make one beside it. Brom stretched and yawned before he sat beside Gilda and pulled off his boots.

"Oh, gods." Her face pinched, and she waved her hand in front of her nose. "That's awful. You should keep those on."

"And miss the chance to woo you with my delightful aroma?" Brom chuckled and shook his head.

When the door moved slightly, Owen and Gilda froze, but Colt and Brom jumped to their feet, alert.

When the wolf walked inside and looked at them, they all relaxed.

Getting to his feet, Owen let the wolf in and closed the door.

"You're going to let it sleep inside?" Gilda asked.

"It's cold out there."

"It has fur." Brom raised his brows.

"But she's a good girl." Owen bent on one knee to pet her, and the wolf licked his face. He giggled and hugged her close. "She's so soft, and her coat is dark, like night. I think I may call her Raven."

"Oh shit, Owen, you're not supposed to name it," Colt groaned.

He glanced at Colt and smirked. "I make the decisions, remember?"

"Scouting decisions, Owen." Gilda closed her eyes, then shook her head. "You know what, it doesn't matter. Keep the dog. I'm going to sleep." She laid on her pallet, saying nothing more. Brom chuckled and laid down as well.

When Owen clicked his tongue, the wolf followed him to his pallet. Sitting down, Owen took off his boots and massaged his cold feet, while Colt peered at the wolf sitting quietly nearby.

He knew none of them would be able to hold their eyes open enough to keep watch tonight, and Owen was too exhausted to care if anyone found them here, though he still hoped they weren't in someone's home.

It certainly didn't look like anyone lived here.

Colt laid on his side and nodded Owen over. At first, Owen was unsure, as Gilda and Brom slept close by. But Brom's snoring and Gilda's deep breathing were enough to make him move over into his companion's arms.

They were warm and inviting, and much needed after the cold they'd traveled through. As Colt pulled the blanket over them, he rubbed Owen's arm, warming him, but when the wolf laid behind Owen, Colt grunted and looked up.

"I'm still not sure about her," he said.

"She's harmless, Colt." Owen raised up on his elbow, blocking Colt from looking at her. "Don't you believe me? After all the animal charming I'm known for back in Emberton?" He laughed and scratched her. "She's keeping me warm. I'm lucky. I have you in front of me and her behind me." He smiled.

"Fine." Colt sighed and pulled Owen against him.

This was a warmth Owen could get used to all the time, and as he gazed at Colt in the darkness, he secured his arm around Colt's waist, holding him back. He could hear Colt's heart beating, and it brought him comfort knowing this man was safe right now in his arms.

He pulled up his legs, moving one between Colt's to keep him warm, and Colt held him tighter. He'd slept beside Colt several times on their journey through Milarc, and even with him twice in a bed, but he'd never tangled with him like this, and he found it so intimate, he made a hesitant move back.

Colt grabbed his leg and pushed it back between his. "Keep it there," he whispered.

Owen held his breath and looked at him in the darkness. The burn of Colt's hand made a trail from his leg up to his hip, where it rested on him for good.

Closing his eyes, Owen nuzzled against him, then he began thinking, as he often did before he slept, and his eyes popped open.

"Colt," he started.

"Hm?" Colt already sounded half asleep.

"Do you think I should name her Raven or Bean? You know how some beans are dark? Or perhaps something like Shadow, or even Clove, since her fur is so dark. Sometimes, it looks a little brownish in the sun."

A soft chuckle made Owen move back and look up.

"Why are you laughing?" Owen asked.

"Trying to go to sleep, and this is what you're asking?" Colt smiled sleepily at him.

Sighing, Owen laid back against him and closed his eyes, determined to sleep now as the wolf wiggled closer to his back. Then he felt Colt's lips on his neck, and the gentle kiss there made him gasp softly as it sent a rippling fire down to his groin.

Colt moved close to his ear, where his lips lightly grazed Owen's lobe before he whispered, "Clove."