Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
KARL
Karl’s leg was throbbing, deep and insistent. He wasn’t done, but he was closer to it than he should be, needing the stick Leon had found more than he wanted to admit.
Their exploration had been far slower than he’d have liked, but it had been progress, up until a few moments ago.
And now… now he had to face reality. They hadn’t found anything, and he was beginning to worry how long it might take him to get back to the ranch.
Once Leon returned from his scouting ahead, he’d suggest they head home.
Leon wouldn’t have gone far—he was always circling back to check on Karl and the pup, always watching.
Karl had started to count on that. It wasn’t like him to depend on someone else, but it was easier than he’d expected, to trust that Leon would be there. Karl believed he’d sense any threat and would act without needing to be asked.
That was the surprise, really. Not the competence, because Karl had known Leon was good, but the steadiness.
The way Leon had stepped up when needed, taking care of what needed taking care of without fuss or drama.
Even now, he was watching their backs while Karl tried to pretend he wasn’t falling apart.
And underneath that steady presence, the memory of what had happened between them still pulsed quietly.
He hadn’t let himself think about it much—couldn’t, not with the pain and the pup and the damn river—but now, with Leon’s brief absence making him feel like something important was missing, it came back.
It wasn’t about the sex, though that had been—hell, that had been something. But the way it had felt afterward, how damn comfortable it’d felt. Karl wasn’t sure he’d ever had that before. Not in a way that lingered like this.
The pup was still restless in his hold, whining and squirming, like he couldn’t get comfortable.
Yet again, he puzzled over where this pup had come from.
Leon had told Karl of his suspicions that maybe someone had tried to get rid of him, and Karl wondered what Leon’s experiences must be that he went so fast to the worst possible scenario.
Well, it looked as if he’d be returning to the pack with a new member, though he hoped not.
None of them were equipped to deal with a pup.
As for dealing with a child… His brain practically shut down at the thought of the mayhem a small child would cause amid the personalities of the pack.
No. They needed to find the pup’s parents.
“Easy,” he muttered to the wriggling pup. “You’re not falling in a river again on my watch.”
He glanced again in the direction Leon had disappeared, wondering how much longer he’d be. And then the hairs on the back of his neck lifted. Someone was watching him.
The forest stilled around them, until there was just the sound of the river and the soft whines from the pup.
He continued petting the pup, drawing deeper breaths despite his ribs so he could subtly scent the air.
The only scents on the breeze were woody smells and river water.
If he stood up, whoever was watching would see how limited he was, but if he didn’t stand up, he wouldn’t be able to mount even the most basic defense.
He grasped the stick Leon had found for him, stuck it in the mud, and used its support to rise to his feet as smoothly and easily as he could.
He saw a movement from the corner of his eye and turned to meet the threat.
It was nothing like he expected—a young woman in jeans and a sweater was walking toward him from out of the trees.
She didn’t register as dangerous, but she wore sneakers instead of hiking boots and had no jacket or kit with her. Something here was wrong.
Her eyes were glued to the squirming bundle in his arm. “Charlie,” she breathed, her voice breaking on the name. “Oh my God, you found my husky puppy. I’ve been looking for him everywhere.”
As a story for non-shifters, it wasn’t a bad attempt. At the sound of her voice, a succession of short, desperate howls broke from the pup. Realizing the only place he’d run was to his mom—or pack member, Karl was trying not to make too many assumptions—he bent painfully to put him down.
The pup bolted toward the young woman. She dropped to her knees, tears streaking her face as he leapt into her arms and promptly shifted, so that she was holding a very grubby toddler. Relief hit Karl hard and deep—thank God he hadn’t done that all the time they’d had him.
The change in the kid’s form instantly blew the woman’s cover story. It took her a little longer to realize, but then she looked up, fear on her face. As their eyes met and held, hers widened. “You’re a shifter.”
He expected that would reassure her. Instead, she looked terrified as she clutched the kid to her. Something here was very wrong, and he could still feel eyes on him from elsewhere. He needed to get out of here before whatever was brewing spilled over. He had to trust Leon would do the same.
“Glad he found you,” he said. “I’ll get going.”
He turned back the way he and Leon had come, but as he did so, two shifters in human form broke cover from the trees behind the young woman. Karl could usually take two and scarcely notice, but right now, he wasn’t strong enough to beat an egg if it resisted.
He ignored them and continued on his way, attempting to use the stick as a hiker might, rather than betray he was relying on it to keep his leg from buckling.
More shifters appeared, blocking his path. Threatening, but also nervous. And that made them more dangerous.
He relaxed his posture deliberately, not wanting to escalate this when he couldn’t fight. He needed to keep this brief, cordial, and extract himself quickly and quietly.
“I found your pup,” he said, “brought him back to where he recognized, and now I’m going.”
The biggest one stayed where he was, planted in Karl’s way, his arms folded across his chest. “Our alpha will want to thank you properly.”
“No need,” Karl said evenly. “I’ll be on my way.”
He was trying to keep it calm and polite, but the force in his voice came through, together with the air of command he had to fight so hard not to display around insecure alphas. The shifter’s eyes narrowed as he took in the threat Karl posed.
Two others stepped up close behind the big shifter, shoring him up in his belief that, between them, they outweighed one solitary shifter. “It wasn’t a question. You’re coming with us.”
Karl cocked his head, allowing disbelief to show at their audacity. “Not willingly.”
“That’s okay.”
Karl stood there a moment longer, weighing them. If they jumped him, his ribs wouldn’t take it—he was certain some were cracked, maybe worse, and the prospect of a punctured lung made him hold very still, not wanting to provoke them.
He forced himself to ease his posture, not because he was giving in, but because staying on his feet meant he might still get out of this on his terms.
The big one jerked his chin toward the trees. With two shifters in front of him and the rest closing in, Karl moved where they wanted. On his feet, and still breathing. At least, for now.