At least it was Leon. He couldn’t decide whether that was good or terrible luck.
Leon’s competence didn’t surprise him. He’d known the jaguar was sharp from the moment they met—observant, quick, too clever by half. It was everything around the competence that grated. The arrogance, the constant grooming, the self-assurance.And the fact that Karl had noticed, in detail, how attractive he was long before the rain and the blanket and the blowjob.
What Karl hadn’t expected was how gently Leon had handled him after his injuries. He hadn’t gloated or delivered any smug one-liners, but had just quietly looked after him. It wasn’t anything Karl would have expected from Leon, and it was unsettling.
The only way in which Leon betrayed his usual self was how he was treating the pup, dangling him at the end of a long arm. Leon was studying him like he might do something unthinkable if he got too close. Like mess up his hair, perhaps.
“He’s not a grenade,” Karl pointed out, and wondered where that rasp in his voice had come from.
Leon raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t argue. Carefully, he set the pup back down, where he curled against Karl’s side again, a high-pitched whimper escaping as he did so. Karl laid his hand over the pup, relieved to find he was breathing evenly. He hoped food would help. He wouldn’t mind some himself—not that the thought of eating felt particularly appealing, but he knew he needed fuel to heal.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Diving into a flooded river for a pup, especially one he hadn’t even known was a shifter… It had been foolish and reckless.
His duty was to the pack. To Matt. Getting himself broken and benched in the middle of nowhere hadn’t helped anyone.
But when he’d seen that little sodden scrap clinging to the log, something in him had cracked. It wasn’t logic or strategy. It was instinct, sharp and undeniable.No more deaths. Not today.
Now all he could do was lie here, aching, damp, and functionally useless while Leon moved around camp doing the things Karl should’ve been doing. His only job now was pup-warmer. And, apparently, patient.
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew Leon was crouched beside him again, speaking with quiet urgency but enough edge to jolt Karl awake.
“You okay?” Leon asked as he opened an MRE. “You went out like a light.”
Karl managed a nod, which turned into a wince. His ribs were definitely cracked. Maybe broken.
Leon glanced down at the pup then back at Karl.
“I’m not chewing anything for anyone,” Karl told him.
Leon made a face before grudgingly, and with what might have been a suppressed shudder, he chewed a chunk of meat, then spat it out, and offered it to the pup on the tip of a spoon.
The pup, for his part, sniffed it suspiciously before licking it, then devoured the rest with tiny growls of satisfaction, before looking brightly at Leon, anticipating more. Leon sighed heavily, but obliged. And Karl hadnoidea how he could make even regurgitating food look graceful. Must be the cheekbones.
Karl closed his eyes again. He felt... off. Too warm and too fuzzy. A little detached. He realized, belatedly, that Leon must have given him more painkillers than they’d agreed on. Sneaky bastard. Effective, though. He wasn’t in agony any longer. Just floating.
He should fight it. He needed to stay alert, stay sharp. He couldn’t rely on someone else to keep them safe.
But the pup was tucked against him once more, breathing steadily. Leon was there—grumbling, competent, infuriating Leon—and Karl found himself thinking, unexpectedly,this could be worse.
He was still trying to hold on when the darkness pulled him under again.
LEON
Leon poured the last of the purified water over his hands and rubbed them together, trying to scrub away the invisible weight of Karl’s blood. He was acutely aware that Karl’s life depended on him getting this right. Help wasn’t coming, not out here. There was just him, a basic first-aid kit, and a wolf who’d flung himself into a river for a stranger.
He wrapped the soiled gloves and the used syringe in one of the ration packets, sealed it, and set it aside. He’d done everything he could for now. Karl hadn’t stirred—his breathing was still fast but steadier than before, which had to be a good sign.
Rolling his sleeves back down, he got the spirit stove going and made coffee. Not because he wanted it but because the act of doingsomething was calming. It tasted thin and metallic and nothing like real coffee, but the familiar smell helped. And it waswarm.
He glanced up at the sky. It would rain again, soon. The air had that heavy, charged scent. He eyed the surrounding terrain with growing unease. They were too close to the river for his peace of mind. Standing, he looked at it a while, trying to work out how much of a threat it was going to be. The water wasn’t running any higher than a few hours ago, but it was still swollen and angry.
He frowned, then filed the concern away for later. Karl couldn’t move, and Leon didn’t want to risk shifting him by himself unless he absolutely had to.
A soft, high-pitched sound broke into his thoughts. Leon turned to find the pup was whimpering under the blanket, its tiny voice almost lost against the ongoing roar of the river. He crouched and peeled back the edge of the blanket, carefully scooping the pup up. Karl didn’t move. Deep healing sleep—deadto the world.
“Hey,” Leon said softly, as if the pup could understand. “You’re not the only one freaked out, you know.”
He offered it a bite of the meat he’d pre-chewed earlier, but the pup turned its face away with another pitiful cry. He tried again with a spoonful of cooled gravy. No luck. It squirmed against him, tiny claws digging into his hoodie, breath hitching with distress.
