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 wereyourmate,” 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’dseenLeon. 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 heshouldbe toostrong. 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.”
