Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-eight
KARL
The room was gray, pre-dawn light filtering through the cracks in the shutters. The chill in the air made the warmth pressed against his side even more welcome. Leon’s breathing was soft, his hand curled loosely on Karl’s chest.
Karl was wider awake than he should have been given his need to sleep and heal.
The ache in his leg throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but it was duller now.
He lay still, unwilling to disturb the quiet.
He wasn’t used to waking up with company, and never with comfort.
Leon was still asleep, his hair a tangle across the pillow, one foot kicked out from under the blankets.
He looked younger and softer, and Karl still couldn’t quite believe that the man he’d written off as smug and aggravating now caused an entirely different response in him.
The door creaked, cold air rolling in. Leon’s eyes snapped open instantly, and he tensed as he looked toward the door. Realizing it was Ruth, he relaxed once more and turned back toward Karl with a smile.
It wasn’t a smirk, and it didn’t have a barb behind it. It was a sleepy, genuine smile, warm and soft, like the kind saved for someone he was glad to wake up next to. Karl had never had that before, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
So he didn’t do anything at all except smile back at Leon.
He hadn’t meant to, but he couldn’t help it.
And he definitely wasn’t thinking about what Leon’s smile did to his eyes and cheekbones, and how badly he wanted to touch him, just to trail his fingers down that cheek, map every inch of Leon’s body, learn everything there was to know about him. To know him, body and soul.
“When you two have quite finished,” Ruth said dryly, “I have a wound to dress and not all day to wait.”
Leon grinned, all charm and mischief as he sat up and rolled off the bed, stretching gracefully. “Of course, Ruth. Whatever you say, Ruth.”
She was sorting through her meager hoard of medical supplies, readying for Karl’s regular torture session. “Open the window, will you?” she said to Leon. She’d left the door ajar, presumably wanting to air the room.
He leaned over the bed to open the shutters, letting more cold, fresh air in.
And then he leaned closer still and kissed Karl again, warm and distracting.
Karl reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear, and Leon shivered, his eyes suddenly dark.
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions,” he warned, his voice low and throaty, before stepping back to make space for Ruth.
Perhaps it was Pavlovian at the sight of Ruth, or perhaps it was because Leon was no longer touching him, but as Ruth washed her hands, Karl’s body remembered it was in pain.
His leg throbbed, ribs twinging as he shifted to sit upright, bracing himself and glad Leon had turned away to comb his hair.
He didn’t want an audience for whatever Ruth was about to do.
A sudden, high-pitched sound made him tense as he scanned for the new threat. A small blur of dark fur skittered through the open door, yipping with uncontainable excitement as it launched itself toward the bed.
“Oh shit,” Leon muttered.
Before Karl could do more than blink, the pup was up on his hind legs, pawing desperately at the mattress. Leon picked him up with a sigh and dropped him on the bed beside Karl like a tiny sack of potatoes.
Immediately, the pup turned into a squirming mess of joy—licking, yipping, wriggling into the crook of Karl’s arm like he had every right to be there.
Leon stared at him. “That pup is ridiculous.” Any other time, he’d probably have added and you’re not much better. But not today, when his eyes were still soft and filled with warmth each time he looked at Karl, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
The pup sneezed, and then curled up next to Karl with a sigh, one paw draped possessively over his chest. Karl rested a hand lightly on the pup’s side, stroking soft fur.
“If he wets the bed, you’re cleaning it up,” Ruth warned, pinning Leon with a threatening look.
“What did I do?” Leon demanded. “Karl’s the one he adopted.”
“Well, that would explain why he’s been under my feet more than usual these last couple of days.
He could probably scent Karl,” Ruth said, pouring water into a basin that looked ominously familiar to Karl.
Although he wasn’t looking forward to having his wound messed with again, it would be good to get a look at it and see how the healing was coming along.
He’d slept soundly last night, the whole night through, and he was definitely feeling stronger.
“Jo’s beside herself over what happened, you know,” Ruth continued, more talkative this morning than she’d ever been. Karl hoped that might be a sign the pack was coming to view them as accidental visitors rather than intruders.
“She only took her eyes off him for two minutes, but he’s an absolute terror. God knows what he’ll be like as a teen.”
“Ruth, have you seen—oh, thank God.” The young woman from the riverbank—Jo, presumably—stood in the doorway, the anxiety on her face morphing swiftly to relief.
And then to something else as her eyes rested on Karl, until he wanted to move away from her gaze.
It seemed as if the pup wasn’t the only one who wanted to curl up in bed next to him.
“Charlie obviously likes you,” she said, and she didn’t have to say the rest for Karl to hear it. He’s not the only one.
Thank God Leon stepped in. Literally, putting himself between them. “Diving into a flooded river to rescue him will do that.”
His tone was an unmistakable rebuke. As well, maybe, as a reminder that he was still in the room, because there was a tension to him. If he were in cat form, he’d be lashing his tail.
“What?” Jo stared at him, horror on her face. “He did what?”
“Dove into a flooded river to rescue your pup,” Leon said. “Don’t you know? That’s how he got hurt.”
“What was that?” Ruth’s voice was sharp, cracking like ice.
Karl winced. “It wasn’t—”
But Ruth was already moving. “You didn’t think to mention that part?” she demanded, voice tight with something he couldn’t identify. “We assumed you found him nearby—”
She stopped, turned sharply, and walked out the door.
Karl caught Leon’s gaze, to find he was equally uncertain what that was about. The pup yawned and licked Karl’s jaw.
Jo crossed the room, knelt at his side and, to Karl’s utter horror, took his hand in both of hers and kissed it.
He froze. Absolutely, completely froze. He’d been shot at, blown up, clawed—but this was what made him want to crawl under the covers and die.
Leon’s voice, dry and cutting, saved him.
“Well, he’s home now,” he said, plucking the pup from the bed by his scruff. He thrust him toward Jo, then stalked toward the door, holding it open with exaggerated politeness.
Jo hesitated, but could hardly ignore Leon’s less-than-subtle messaging. She turned to Karl one last time. “Thank you,” she whispered.
On her way out of the door, to Karl’s further horror, she kissed Leon’s cheek.
He blinked as she finally left. From across the room, Leon said, deadpan, “You’re welcome.”
Karl stared at the ceiling. Then snorted. Then, helplessly, started to laugh.
LEON
The door clicked shut behind Jo, Karl’s laughter still echoing softly.
Leon stood for a moment where he was, facing the door, one hand braced against it.
Not because he was angry or annoyed—though he was, a little, at that woman’s undisguised interest in Karl—but because if he looked at Karl again too soon, he was going to do something unwise.
Like crawl back into bed and kiss that ridiculous, heroic face until they’d both forgotten everything else.
Instead, he crossed to the table and picked up his comb, running it through his hair with practiced precision. Down from scalp to tip. Pause. Repeat. He let the dark fall of it shield his face, curtaining him off the rest of the room.
At last he had privacy, and time to think. He needed to wrap his head around the fact that this morning he’d woken up curled next to Karl, warm and wanted. And Karl had smiled at him.
Smiled. Not grimaced or scowled like he was trying to incinerate Leon with his eyes. A sleepy, real smile that had tugged something loose inside Leon.
It was an objective fact that Karl was attractive. But like that, softened by sleep, with none of the tension or emotional armor he wore when awake? That was on another level, one Leon didn’t have words for. Especially as that open, warm face, which had been so impassive when they met, was now his.
He combed again, more slowly. Knowing they were mates should have been enough to chase away all the old shadows.
It should have made him feel secure, safe in the knowledge that he’d finally found what every cat dreamed of—the one person for them.
Even if he was a wolf—and that certainly wasn’t what every cat dreamed of.
Nightmare, more like, but that was only because they hadn’t met Karl.
But it still twisted deep in his gut, a flicker of what if. What if Karl changed his mind? What if he regretted it? What if it all went wrong?
He and the feeling were old acquaintances, with the familiar ache of rejection held at bay by sheer force of will. Because if his parents had thrown him out, who wouldn’t?
Leon stilled his hand and breathed out slowly. No. Not this time. He wouldn’t let that wound drive him. Wouldn’t sabotage this just to beat Karl to the punch. Karl wasn’t going anywhere, not if last night meant even half what he thought it had.
He turned to find Karl watching him from the bed. Not smiling now, but with something steady in his eyes.
“Breakfast?” Leon asked, gesturing toward the bowls of gray, gelatinous stuff that Ruth had brought with her.
Karl made a face. “Define breakfast.”
“Technically edible,” Leon said, picking up a bowl and spoon and taking it to Karl. “Maybe.”