Chapter 15 #2
Rolling his sleeves back down, he got the spirit stove going and made coffee. Not because he wanted it but because the act of doing something was calming. It tasted thin and metallic and nothing like real coffee, but the familiar smell helped. And it was warm.
He glanced up at the sky. It would rain again, soon.
The air had that heavy, charged scent. He eyed the surrounding terrain with growing unease.
They were too close to the river for his peace of mind.
Standing, he looked at it a while, trying to work out how much of a threat it was going to be.
The water wasn’t running any higher than a few hours ago, but it was still swollen and angry.
He frowned, then filed the concern away for later. Karl couldn’t move, and Leon didn’t want to risk shifting him by himself unless he absolutely had to.
A soft, high-pitched sound broke into his thoughts.
Leon turned to find the pup was whimpering under the blanket, its tiny voice almost lost against the ongoing roar of the river.
He crouched and peeled back the edge of the blanket, carefully scooping the pup up.
Karl didn’t move. Deep healing sleep—dead to the world.
“Hey,” Leon said softly, as if the pup could understand. “You’re not the only one freaked out, you know.”
He offered it a bite of the meat he’d pre-chewed earlier, but the pup turned its face away with another pitiful cry. He tried again with a spoonful of cooled gravy. No luck. It squirmed against him, tiny claws digging into his hoodie, breath hitching with distress.
“All right, all right. Damn drama-queen wolf.”
He tucked the pup against his chest, one hand cradling its small body, the other stroking its back in slow, even motions. He didn’t know how he knew to do this. Maybe it was instinct.
Where this pup had come from was a mystery. He’d done his background reading before coming to Colorado, and there’d been no indication of a shifter pack close to Matt’s. The nearest one was in Denver.
He wondered how such a young pup could have gotten close to the water. Oh, God—he hoped it was just the pup, and not a whole family that had been swept away.
And then his heart stopped, and it hurt to breathe. Another possibility, one he didn’t even want to think about.
Maybe it hadn’t been an accident the pup was allowed so close to the water. Maybe someone had left it there. Maybe its family hadn’t wanted it.
The thought punched under his guard, left him bent double and hauling in unsteady breaths.
Because he knew what that felt like, not to be wanted.
To be the reminder of something no one wanted to remember.
To be packed up, sent away, kept out of sight as if he’d never existed.
So maybe he hadn’t been thrown into a river, but at the time, it had felt like the same thing.
They’d thought sending him away would help them forget her affair, patch up what was left of the marriage.
For the first few years of his life, they’d managed by keeping him close to home and discouraging him from shifting.
But once he started school and spent more time around the other kids in the pride, the whispers had begun.
He wasn’t a cougar, and no one could pretend otherwise.
Maybe his mom told herself it was just until the gossip died down, until things settled. But temporary turned into a whole childhood, and Leon had been the one who paid the price for her choices.
When he was older, he’d lashed out at Grandpa more than once about his mom. About how she’d just thrown him out like he was last season’s fashion. And then one time, Grandpa had sighed and sat down with him, his eyes sad. “She asks about you all the time, you know. She loves you.”
Leon had spat a laugh. “Yeah? Sure looks like it. So why doesn’t she ever come to see me?” His voice had broken, and Grandpa had reached out, hand firm on his shoulder.
“Because it breaks her heart.”
Yeah, well, Leon hadn’t cared about her heart. He’d been more preoccupied with his. And now he was older and maybe understood a little more, he still thought she’d been a coward, not facing the results of her choices. She claimed to love him but still abandoned him.
The pup squeaked and squirmed, and he realized he was holding it too tightly.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and started petting it again as he sat upright once more, long, slow strokes, calming both of them.
Gradually, the pup’s breathing slowed. The whimpers faded, and it nestled against him, warm and trusting.
No one had ever depended on him like this, not in any way that felt like it mattered. He was good at his job. He’d made damn sure of it. But this, with Karl unconscious and a shifter pup curled up on his chest—this was different.
He wasn’t used to being needed outside of a mission. And definitely not in a way that felt personal.
Luna loved him, he knew that. But she was the only one who did.
The other cats—well, maybe it wasn’t fair to say they suffered his presence.
Not these days, when he’d proved himself to be good enough to take charge of their queen’s security.
But he could never trust other cats fully after the way they’d turned on him as a kitten, just for being different, for something he had no control over.
And maybe the cats he worked with now weren’t the same cats as back then, but he wasn’t going to give them the chance to treat him that way.
He looked over at Karl. Still sleeping, still breathing.
“You’d better recover quickly,” he said quietly. “I’m not babysitting two of you.”
The pup gave a little sigh and pressed its nose into his collarbone.
Leon didn’t move. He sat there, a warm pup in his arms, and a sleeping wolf beside him.