Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
LEON
“You are not walking on that leg.”
Leon didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. The don’t be a jackass was baked in.
Karl, predictably, ignored him. “I’ve had worse.”
“You couldn’t stand last night,” Leon pointed out.
And yeah, maybe a little louder than he intended, but that goddamn wolf was infuriating.
He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this without turning into one of those guys who yelled at clouds, because right now, he wanted to tip his head back and scream his frustration to the sky.
Karl didn’t answer. Just gritted his teeth and unzipped his hoodie like he was about to strip off and shift right there on the wet ground.
The pup chose that moment to come bounding back from where it had been investigating a rock, and scrambled into Karl’s lap.
Karl paused, and Leon took advantage of the moment. “If we’re going anywhere today, no shifting. You know what can happen when bones don’t line up right.”
Shifting with broken bones was a crapshoot, and he didn’t want Karl ending up with a broken rib impaling his liver. Karl’s tiny, annoyed grunt suggested he had at least conceded that point.
But God, it was exhausting trying to make the wolf see sense. Even Luna would be struggling… It hit him then, perhaps he’d been going about this wrong. Perhaps he should use her approach, tact and diplomacy. Well, he could try.
“I’m not saying we can’t leave,” he said, slowly, carefully, “but maybe we wait another couple of hours. Let the painkillers kick in, see if you can—”
“We don’t have time.”
Leon breathed out. Calm, stay calm. “Of course we do. The ranch isn’t going anywhere, my cats and your pack have it locked down tight.” Even if he’d prefer to be there himself to make absolutely sure. “If your leg’s as bad as it looks and we push this too fast—”
Karl shook his head, already sitting up straighter. “It’s not the ranch I’m worried about.”
Leon stilled. A threat he hadn’t considered? He hated that thought.
Karl’s gaze slid toward the pup. “If this little guy’s pack is out there, they’ll be searching. And if they come across us heading away with him, not knowing who we are—”
Leon let out a low breath. “You think they’ll attack?”
“We don’t know what they’ll do, and that’s the problem.” Karl moved uneasily, clearly trying not to wince. “If they think we’re taking him, it’s a risk. If we search now and find them, we can return him ourselves. Control the situation.”
“Control the situation?” Leon didn’t even try to keep the edge out of his voice. “You’ve got one good leg and busted ribs. Should we maybe, I don’t know, not waltz into a potentially hostile pack’s territory while you’re only held together with stubbornness and scowling?”
Karl’s jaw tightened. “We’re not waltzing anywhere. We search along the river a couple of miles. Then if we can’t find them, we go home.”
Leon folded his arms. “And what if Matt needs to know yesterday that there are unknown shifters in the area? That’s the kind of threat assessment you’re usually first to yell about.”
Karl hesitated. “Just two hours searching. That’s not going to make a difference to security at the ranch, but this pack could have moved on by the time we get back to the ranch and send searchers out.”
Leon stared at him. “You think it’s that important?”
“No,” Karl said softly. “I think it’s right.”
That stopped Leon cold. This wasn’t just duty for Karl. This was personal.
It wasn’t hard to guess why. Karl, raised pack, had been shaped by that obligation and loyalty. A lost pup was a call to family which he couldn’t ignore.
Leon would never understand wolves and their pack thing, not on an emotional level. His threat assessment had arrived at a different answer, but it was clear Karl was going to do this, even if Leon headed back to the ranch right now.
The one angle Karl hadn’t considered—the one doubt Leon didn’t think he could voice out loud—was, what if the pack didn’t want the pup back? That would be unthinkable to most, but Leon had lived it.
Leon scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. Two hours. But if you so much as stumble, I’m dragging your ass back myself.”
Karl didn’t argue and concentrated on climbing to his feet. His mouth was tight with pain, and Leon looked away, giving him the illusion of privacy as he retrieved the long, straight stick he’d found earlier, passing it over without a word.
Karl tested his weight against the stick.
Or maybe he was leaning on it because he couldn’t hold himself upright.
The pup was whining around Karl’s trainers—he’d at least thought that far ahead and put them on earlier.
Which was how this had all started, when Leon realized what that stubborn wolf intended to do.
Leon got the pup by the scruff and held it out to Karl. It snuggled straight into the crook of his arm, like it could think of no place better to be.
Leon watched the two of them, broken wolf and lost pup. He hadn’t signed up to care, but something about this made his chest ache, and he hated that even more.
“You better keep a good hold on it,” he said. “Because I’m not dragging either of you out of the river again.”
Karl gave him a withering look. “You say the sweetest things.”
Despite himself, Leon grinned and flipped his hair over his shoulder. “I know. That’s why you can’t do without me. One of the many reasons.”
He expected a scoff or a snort. Something dismissive, anyway. But Karl just looked at him for a moment too long, then turned away to run his gaze over the gear that Leon had packed away.
The silence seemed to hum with something unsaid, and Leon stood still for a second, unsettled.
Then he stripped off, stuck his clothes in the stash box, and took his jaguar form.
The world sharpened. Sound and scent were richer, clearer.
He padded to the river’s edge and tested the breeze, scanning for unfamiliar wolf-scent.
Behind him, he heard Karl speaking softly to the pup. Heard his low, deep laugh.
And maybe—maybe—he didn’t hate that sound.
* * *
They moved slowly, though not aimlessly.
Karl’s stride was uneven, nothing like the confident, ground-eating pace he normally had, but he kept going.
The stick Leon had brought him dug into the damp earth with every other step, and the pup nestled in the crook of one arm, its head lolling slightly as it dozed.
Leon padded ahead in jaguar form, then looped back, unable to settle on a single position. Every few minutes, he returned to Karl’s side. He told himself it was for safety. To make sure the pup hadn’t wriggled free and launched itself into a second attempt at drowning.
It definitely wasn’t so he could keep glancing up and confirming—yeah.
Karl was still ridiculously hot. Maybe even more so now he was a bit battered, a bit unshaven.
That stubborn tilt to his jaw reflecting his absolute refusal to be anything less than in control, even when his body clearly hadn’t gotten the memo.
Leon hated that he found it attractive.
No. That was a lie. He just hated what it might mean, that when he left the ranch, there’d be some part of him regretting the fact.
And that wasn’t Leon. He didn’t do regrets.
There was no point, they didn’t change anything.
And he didn’t do involvement. Clubs were his usual hunting ground, where most people wanted nothing more than to get off and move on.
He was less likely to run into shifters there, no chance of facing the questions and judgment about being different from the rest of his pride.
He ranged ahead again, letting the sunshine warm him through after that long cold, wet night, where he’d sometimes lain against Karl and the pup, sharing warmth, and sometimes been out searching for threats, guarding them.
The river beside them was still high and turbulent, the banks beginning to narrow, trees closing in along the edge.
He circled back again to find Karl looked tired. A sick, shivery kind of tired Leon recognized from missions where it was impossible to stop, however exhausted or hurt.
Karl didn’t ask for help. Of course he didn’t.
He paused, scanning the landscape ahead, and finally eased himself onto a flattish boulder, careful and deliberate.
Even the motion of sitting made his face go tight with pain.
Leon wanted to hiss at him. Or rub up against him and press warmth into him.
Instead, he sat beside the boulder, tail curling neatly around his paws.
The pup was wriggling in Karl’s arms, and then it scrambled upright and began yipping softly, nose twitching.
It was the first time it’d shown any interest in their surroundings, so Leon shifted to talk to Karl.
“You think it knows this place?” he asked, as the pup turned in frantic circles on Karl’s lap.
Karl nodded. “Could’ve caught a scent he knows.”
In that case, this could get far more complicated than Karl expected. If the pup’s pack thought they’d gotten rid of it, and here they were, delivering it back to their door…
“I’ll check ahead,” he said. “Just to see.”
He didn’t wait for a reply but slipped back into cat form and loped into the trees, his heart uneasy in his chest.