Chapter Thirty-six
KARL
Jesse’s retreating footsteps faded into the evening air. Somewhere below, a goat bleated in protest, and Tristan laughed, loud enough for Karl to hear even from here.
He let the quiet settle for a moment. Just the rustle of wind in the grass, the warmth of Leon beside him, the faint smell of pine, and something sweeter clinging to his hair. Coconut. How the fuck did Riley cope with that scent all day? And then he remembered—non-shifter, no enhanced senses.
He watched Jesse on his way back to the house, automatically checking he was safe.
“You really can’t stop, can you?” Leon asked quietly.
Karl didn’t pretend not to know what he meant. His mouth twitched, just a little. “Habit.”
Leon hummed, still watching Karl’s face. “Joaquim said Colby invited them to join your patrols.”
He said it neutrally enough that Karl wasn’t sure what he thought about it.
“I heard,” he said. “I was going to ask how they’re finding it. Don’t want anyone pushed into something they’re not ready for.”
“Most of them think your wolves are a bit weird,” Leon said.
“Which, you know, fair.” He grinned at Karl’s lowered brow.
“Ava got snarled at for climbing a tree during her shift. But seriously, I think it’s a good thing—they’re learning from each other.
Your wolves are understanding more about how cats think and operate, because up till now, they’ve been concentrating on other wolves and non-shifters as the threat.
” He shrugged slightly. “Guess we’ve been learning too. ”
That was one hell of an admission. Karl turned toward him a little. “Yeah?”
Leon nodded. “Doesn’t mean they’re planning a joint spa day anytime soon, but… they’re adjusting.” He bumped Karl’s shoulder with his own. “You worried we’d scale the first inconvenient tree and stay there?”
“Little bit,” Karl admitted. “But not anymore.”
Leon let the silence hang for a second before he asked, just as quietly, “Can I ask you something?”
That sounded ominous, but if anyone had the right, it was Leon. Karl hesitated an instant, before nodding, just once.
“You didn’t like cats when we got here,” Leon said, and he sounded curious rather than accusing. “I mean, you really didn’t. I thought it was just me at first, but it wasn’t, was it?”
Karl stilled, stopping his jaw from clenching, his shoulders from tightening, controlling all the little things that wanted to give him away.
It wasn’t something he wanted to relive, ever.
Being out of control of a situation, having to obey—or choosing to obey—orders, even when his gut had told him something different.
If he had to do it again, he’d do it differently, but that was the thing about life—there was no such thing as a do-over. And Max had paid for it with his arm, Sheldon with her peace of mind, and God knew what scars the rest of them carried. All because Karl had made the wrong choice.
He didn’t want to say it, to bring it all up again. But some truths didn’t stay buried. And this was Leon.
He drew in a slow, painful breath and forced the words out. “I was military,” he said at last. “Did things I don’t talk about. We got split up once—me and my team. I was sent in one direction, they were sent in another. Orders.”
He knew it was coming out jerkily, his voice clipped. Only way he could get through it.
“They got caught in a bad situation—bad intel. Some of them were hurt bad. And the officer who gave the order, who sent me away from them…” Karl’s voice vibrated with fury, though whether at the officer or himself, he couldn’t tell. Because he was the one who’d obeyed those fucking orders.
“He was a cat. One of the rare ones who’d made it into high command. Tactical genius and zero empathy. Said the outcome was worth the cost. Collateral damage.”
Leon didn’t move. He wasn’t looking at Karl, giving him the illusion of privacy as he ripped himself open.
“When I caught up with him,” Karl said, “I put him through a wall.”
Leon drew in a sharp breath. “Jesus.”
“Didn’t kill him. Didn’t even break anything. But I hit a superior officer, so…” He shrugged tightly. “They let me go. Honorably and quietly. I was high-value enough to merit a soft landing.”
He looked away, eyes fixed on the house below. “I could’ve stayed. It’s what they wanted me to do, civilian ops, or advisory. But I didn’t want to be part of it anymore.”
Leon swallowed. “And he didn’t care about your team?”
“Not even a flicker.” Karl’s voice dropped. “He didn’t even know their names. It didn’t matter—they didn’t matter. It was an acceptable risk.”
And maybe… maybe if they’d gained something worthwhile, if there’d been a need for Karl to be separated from them, he might see it differently.
They were soldiers. They knew the risks when they enlisted, knew what it might mean.
But when it was all for nothing, and that cat had just smirked at Karl’s anger…
That was when everything changed for him, when he knew he didn’t want any part of it.
Not the mindset that saw others as nothing more than pawns on a board.
Leon said softly, “That’s not most of us, you know.”
“I do now,” Karl said. He looked over at Leon, and held his gaze. “Took me a while to realize, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Leon nodded. He didn’t say anything, yet somehow Karl knew he’d taken his apology as it was meant. It wasn’t something said to smooth things over but Karl admitting he’d been wrong. And it was kind of scary and kind of beautiful, how well he already knew Leon.
They sat in silence a while, before Leon reached out and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from Karl’s shoulder, letting his fingers linger a moment too long. The heat between them kicked up instantly. Karl’s heart stuttered, and his breathing shifted, just a fraction.
“You’re staring again,” Karl murmured.
“Still not sorry.”
Karl didn’t move. He didn’t break eye contact, and his voice, when he spoke again, was rougher.
“Dinner’s soon.”
“So?” Leon’s lips curved into a slow, suggestive smile.
“So you really want to go back down there with my scent all over you?”
Leon leaned in, his lips barely brushing Karl’s ear. “More than you can imagine.”
That did it. Karl shifted toward him, the movement like a dam finally breaking. And then Leon’s mouth was on his—hot, urgent, claiming—and Karl kissed him like he’d waited years for this moment. No restraint, his mouth hungry on Leon’s, tongue searching for more. Needing more.
Leon gave as good as he got. By the time they pulled apart, Karl’s heart was hammering almost hard enough to rattle his ribs. Leon’s lips were kiss-bruised and beautiful, his pupils blown wide, and the look he gave Karl was raw.
Karl drew a breath, hoping it might steady him. It didn’t. “Change of venue?” he asked, gravel in his voice.
Leon didn’t answer. Just got to his feet, smooth and fluid, and offered a hand. Karl took it, and Leon’s easy strength as he helped him to his feet sent new shivers down his spine. God, he needed Leon naked and under him. Right the fuck now.
As they crossed the field, the air was taut around them, like a live wire humming. And then he paused—no bed in Jason and Riley’s bunkhouse, yet no privacy in his.
“There are cats in my bunkhouse,” he said.
Leon’s look was pure aristocratic disdain. “Not for much longer.”
The porch boards creaked under their weight, and Leon didn’t hesitate before opening the door and leaning in. “Out,” he said, with the tone most people used on telemarketers. “Karl needs his bed back.”
There was an indignant hiss from inside, then the flash of a long, annoyed tail as a sleek shape disappeared through the open back window.
Karl raised his eyebrows. “And you say wolves are weird?”
“Why use a door when there’s a perfectly good window?” Leon countered.
Somehow, Karl didn’t have an answer for that. As so often with Leon, he turned everything upside down yet made it sound reasonable.
The bunkhouse smelled like new wood as Karl walked in, with the trace of his scent still present under sweeter feline ones. And Leon’s scent, deep in his lungs, in his heart. He didn’t want to be without it ever again.
He turned to see Leon lounging against the doorjamb, making even a casual posture look somehow graceful and elegant.
“You planning on standing there looking pretty, or are you coming in?”
That got him movement. Leon crossed the threshold, something predatory in his stride that sent a delicious shiver down Karl’s spine.
For once, there was no background noise in Karl’s head. No threat assessment or mission parameters. No worry about his pack. Just Leon, and the feel of his own pulse pounding beneath his skin.