Chapter Twenty
LEON
When Ruth returned, two other shifters followed her. They were young, tense, and kept their distance as if they thought Leon might turn violent at any moment. They weren’t wrong about that—his pulse was beating almost as wildly as Karl’s, and every nerve in his body screamed for action.
“Dan, Tessa, strip him, wet cloths to keep his temperature down,” Ruth ordered briskly. Then she turned to Leon. “You. You’re his mate, so you make the medical calls.”
Leon froze. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Calling Karl his mate had been about leverage, making Karl untouchable by association because no one would risk upsetting royalty from a species still wrapped in myth and fear.
And the cat-shifters worked damn hard to keep their reputation that way.
His gambit had worked—he’d seen the ripple of panic when he said it. But now—
Now, Karl’s life depended on his making the right choices.
He straightened. “What decisions?”
“I’ve got antibiotics,” Ruth said, already lifting a hand to forestall his reaction. “But they’re black market. I can’t guarantee dosage, or even that the drug’s what it claims.”
It was hard to breathe suddenly, as he thought of the risks. “What are the alternatives?”
“I put him under, into a deep sleep. It might give his healing a chance to get on top.” She hesitated. “I’d say that’s a long shot right now.”
His eyes flicked to Karl’s face, waxen, sweat-slick, his lips parted with shallow, uneven breaths. Leon barely recognized him.
“You’ve given these drugs to others in your pack before?”
“Yes, but not this batch, and only with informed consent.” Her tone made it clear that consent mattered to her, even for a stranger. Leon trusted her more for that.
“If it were your mate,” he asked quietly, “would you give them?”
Ruth didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
That was the moment it stopped being a question.
“Then do it,” Leon said. He turned away, eyes burning. “Do it.”
* * *
The night stretched, endless and punishing.
Once the decision had been made, the pack had moved fast. Karl was cleaned, cooled, monitored, and repositioned. Dan and Tessa worked quietly and efficiently, and Leon caught a glimpse of something that looked like regret in their faces. Maybe even guilt.
Leon stayed where he was, jammed into a camping chair too small for his frame, his hand on Karl’s arm. As long as Karl’s pulse beat beneath his skin, Leon could keep breathing.
He was full of guilt—he’d abandoned Karl, the one thing he swore he’d never do to anyone, knowing too well how it felt—but it was more than that.
Karl was frustrating as hell, bossy too, yet he was also completely selfless, giving himself over to protecting those he loved.
He’d extended that protection to Luna, to the point where Leon knew he would die to protect her if that was what it took.
He’d undoubtedly be swearing all the way about cats, but that wasn’t the point.
And it was how his occasional low laughter felt, deep in Leon’s gut, and the softness in his voice when he talked to the pup, the way he’d never once raised an eyebrow over the fact Leon was different to all the other cats.
It was the first question most people asked.
But Karl had just accepted this was who Leon was.
Under the tarp in the rain, it’d been competitive between them, but there’d been a care there, too—he’d seen Leon. Wanted to give Leon pleasure, not only so he could be smug about it but for Leon’s sake.
There were so many different reasons for why he felt this way, but they all came down to one thing—he couldn’t lose Karl.
He didn’t think of strategy or how to get out of this. He sat and prayed. He didn’t know if Bastet would listen to him. She never had before. But he prayed anyway, asking the only thing that mattered. Please. Not him.
And still Karl burned. Still he twisted, muttered, cried out—once loud enough that Ruth actually ran across the room to him.
The hours blurred. Outside, the wind rose and rain hammered the roof, and Leon sat still, spine aching, hand steady.
Near dawn, Karl thrashed once—hard enough to jolt the bed—and Leon held him down, his heart pounding. The ease of it terrified him. Karl was too strong for that. Or he should be too strong. This felt like surrender. And then he went still. So still that Leon froze.
“Karl?” he said softly, lifting his hands away from Karl’s sweat-slick skin. No answer. “Karl.”
Nothing.
Leon bent double, pressing his forehead to the mattress, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to leave now.
He stayed like that until he felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s doing better,” Ruth said. She was quiet but not gentle, merely stating a fact. And that was the only thing that mattered.
Leon lifted his head and dared to look. Karl’s breathing had evened. The flush was fading from his cheeks. His pulse was still fast, but less erratic.
He sagged in the chair, tension draining like a cut artery. He took Karl’s hand, and he wasn’t going to let it go. Not for anything.
KARL
It was hot. Blisteringly hot, like he was back in the desert—sweat slicking his spine, thirst clawing at his throat.
He was walking, boots dragging through fine sand, and everything shimmered, as if the world itself was melting.
Someone was beside him. No—several someones.
Their shapes flickered in and out. One called his name.
He turned, but the face was wrong. Not the one he wanted.
He kept walking. The wind shifted, and the dull thump of artillery bloomed around him. A scream cut across the noise, a voice in his earpiece yelling something he couldn’t make out.
And then pain, red and sharp. No, not his. Max was screaming, and his arm… It was gone.
He was running, couldn’t reach him, couldn’t make it in time.
“You said you’d protect us,” Kelly snarled. Words that had never actually been said, but which haunted his dreams anyway. Because he should have protected them.
The weight of his failure settled like sand in his lungs, choking him, and then everything shifted again.
Cool air. A breeze. The street was too quiet.
A boy darting ahead. Bright hair, laughing. “Race you, Karl!”
His breath caught.
“Tobias—no—wait!”
The car came out of nowhere. Tires screamed. Metal crunched.
And Karl was running again, but he was too late. He was always too late.
“No,” he gasped. His legs were heavy, refusing to move, and something held him down.
“Karl!”
The voice dragged him back up through layers of heat and memory. He lashed out instinctively, trying to fight free of the crushing weight. Hands caught his wrists—strong and steady. He forced his eyes open, and a familiar face swam into view, tangled fair hair and blue eyes.
“Jesse?” What was he doing here? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense, but there was that presence beside him again, letting him know that everything would be all right.
He struggled to say something more, but the effort was too much, and he tumbled back down into darkness.
LEON
Ruth was backing away, pale and shaken. Leon had lunged too late to stop Karl’s wild swing.
“Did he get you?” Leon asked, already scanning her for injury.
“I’m fine,” Ruth said tightly.
“I should’ve warned you—he’s got some kind of…” He hesitated. Trauma felt like too personal a word to claim for Karl. “Best not to touch him when he’s sleeping,” he finished quietly.
Ruth didn’t answer. She just stood there, pale and still, her breath visibly shallow.
“What did he say?” she asked at last, her voice thin.
“Jesse? He’s one of Karl’s pack.” Though Leon had no idea why Jesse would be the first thing on Karl’s mind right now.
Ruth turned away, but not before Leon had seen the wetness in her eyes. This pack was officially weird. Karl seemed to be asleep, or passed out, so he relaxed his grip on his wrists and sat back in his chair. He needed to think about what came next and how to navigate it.
Michael had stepped back from letting Karl die, but that didn’t guarantee he’d let them walk away. Leon sat back in the chair and began running scenarios, mentally reviewing what he’d overheard about patrol patterns and where he’d thought the outer perimeter was weakest.
Eventually, exhaustion caught up with him. He fell asleep, dreaming of Luna chewing him out for leaving the coffee machine on, which felt fair, and woke with a crick in his neck and his skin prickling with unease.
Rubbing his hands over his face, he looked around the room, empty except for him and Karl. He guessed Ruth and her helpers had left to get some sleep themselves.
That was a more welcome idea than the next one that came to him—they’d cleared out because Michael might be about to burn the cabin down.
That way, he’d be rid of the unwanted intruders but have plausible deniability if anyone came searching.
Terrible accident, couldn’t be helped. So sorry we couldn’t save them.
Deciding to ignore that idea until he smelled gasoline, he stretched, rolled his shoulders, then leaned forward to check on Karl. He froze when he saw Karl’s eyes were open.
“Karl?”
Karl blinked, slowly turning his head. “Hey,” he rasped.
“You want some water?”
There was a pause before Karl nodded. He looked like hell, his eyes bruised and unfocused, his pulse still rabbiting beneath thin skin. Leon slid a hand behind his shoulders and lifted him gently, holding the mug to his lips. Most of the water spilled, but Karl managed a few sips.
Leon laid him back against the pillows just as the door opened.
He leaned in quickly, his mouth close to Karl’s ear. “We’re mates,” he breathed, damning himself for not informing Karl of his plan when they’d been alone.
Karl blinked slowly. His gaze slid back to Leon, confused at first, then softening. His lips parted like he might speak, but no words came, just the easing of a faint crease between his brows.
Leon saw it and relaxed a fraction. Good. He got it.
Before he could say anything more, Ruth was on them. She gave Karl some pills and coaxed more water into him. Karl was out again before she’d even finished tucking the blanket around him.
“Thank you,” Leon said. He meant it. Whatever he thought of this pack, she’d done everything she could for Karl as soon as Michael allowed her. That had to count for something.
She nodded brusquely. But as she laid a hand briefly on Karl’s shoulder, her expression changed to a gentle, aching tenderness. Not for long. When she turned back to him, her face was hard again.
“Are you really a prince?”
“My sister’s the queen,” he said, raising his chin and flipping back his hair in a way that he hoped looked regal. She seemed less than awe-struck, but at least she hadn’t noticed he’d sidestepped the question.
“You’ll need to give him more antibiotics in six hours,” she said, as she headed for the door.
Yup, definitely not awe-struck.
When the door clicked shut behind her, Leon let out a breath. He looked at Karl—pale, sleeping, alive—and without thinking, leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.
He didn’t know why. It had just felt right. Like it had when he’d decided to tell Michael they were mates.
Michael. Shit. Leon needed to get his head together and work out what to do next.
He missed Karl’s calm assessment and tactical ability more than he’d ever admit. Leon was used to being the sharpest one in the room, not to wanting someone else beside him.
This was up to him now. And something told him Michael wasn’t planning to send them off with snacks and a fond goodbye.