“Give it to me,” he said, stretching out a hand toward the bowl Leon had picked up off the table.
Their fingers brushed, and something jolted through him—heat flaring, together with something that felt like connection, likelonging. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to want it.
And they werestilltouching, because Leon hadn’t let go. “Just give me the damn food.”
“My Grandpa would have a word or two to say about the manners of wolves,” Leon said, relinquishing the bowl.
He sat once more in the chair, fingers combing briefly through his hair. For comfort? Reassurance? Karl couldn’t quite tell. Maybe it was simply habit, because Leon preened as if the world would end if he didn’t look perfect at all times. Annoying, sure, yet Karl’s fingers still itched to run through that fall of hair. Damn those drugs—the sooner they were out of his system, the sooner he could stop thinking about what Leon’s hair had felt like between his fingers.
“Has anything changed while I was out?” he asked, in between mouthfuls of cold meat stew.
“Eat first,” Leon said. His voice was quieter, but the note of warning in it kicked Karl’s heart rate up. Leon flicked his eyes meaningfully toward the wall of the one-room building they were in. “We’ll talk when you’ve finished.”
Karl nodded, and redoubled his efforts to finish his meal. But nerves were tugging in his stomach, making the stew settle uneasily. He didn’t know the situation, and that sat wrong with him.
Bowl empty, he attempted to place it on the floor by the bed, and instantly stilled and hissed at the pain in his leg. His ribs weren’t exactly happy at him moving around either.
Leon snatched the bowl out of his loosened hand. “Is it really too much for you just toliethere and get better?” he demanded.
He put the bowl back on the table with the suspicion of a slam before swinging back to look at Karl. “You need anything else?”
“Just to know what’s going on,” Karl said, and Leon’s irritation instantly disappeared.
He came back to his chair, dragged it closer to the bed and leaned forward, his hair falling to form a silken screen between them and the rest of the room. The scent of him—sweet, warm, familiar—hit Karl like a punch to the gut. His hand began to reach toward Leon without his permission, before he realized what he was doing and controlled it. What the hell was wrong with him?
He clenched his fingers in the blanket instead. He didn’t need gentleness. Didn’t need Leon.
“I overheard a conversation when I was outside one of these buildings,” Leon said softly, keeping his voice low. “They’re definitely not soundproof.”
Karl nodded to show he understood. Didn’t want to say anything because this was intensely distracting, having Leon’s face, cheekbones and all, so close and intimate. He breathed in Leon’s scent, and something in him, quiet and raw, still ached to reach for him. Just for a second.
He didn’t. He wouldn’t fall for someone who made him laugh one minute and furious the next. Hecouldn’tbe falling for a cat. That was just the painkillers talking.
It had to be.
Chapter Twenty-four
LEON
Karl was silent, listening intently as Leon filled him in on his observations of the camp, the quiet that had reigned while dinner was being eaten, and finally the argument he’d overheard between Michael and Hailey.
Leon tried to keep his tone even, practical. But every time Karl’s breath caught for an instant, like it hurt him to breathe, something tugged at Leon, urging him to move closer and comfort him. It didn’t help that Karl was watching him closely, as if he was seeing Leon clearly, even through his exhaustion and pain. Leon wasn’t used to being seen, and he shouldn’t like it. Especially not from a wolf.
When Leon finished, silence stretched between them. Karl wasn’t looking at him any longer. Instead, he seemed to be processing what he’d been told. Then he said, flat and quiet, “You need to get out of here.”
Leon blinked. Notwe.You.
“Yeah, we do. How’s your leg?”
Karl sat up from where he’d been leaning back against the pillows and promptly turned white as a sheet. But when Leon reached out to support him, he batted his hand away with a low, fierce growl. And then that goddamn stubborn wolf threw back the blankets covering him and attempted to swing around to sit on the side of the bed.
Halfway through the movement, a sudden, helpless whimper escaped him, a sound thathurtLeon to hear. That earlier urge to comfort him was back a hundredfold, flaring sharp and hot. He fought it down because he didn’t do attachment, not to anyone except Luna. Attachment always ended in rejection, and Leon wasn’t going to be gutted like that again. He wasn’t sure there was enough of that part of him lefttogut.
Karl had frozen where he sat, his forehead dotted with sweat. Taking no notice of the ferocious frown on his face, Leon persuaded him to lie back down, tucking him in once more despite his growls. Like a tiny feral kitten, all spitting and fury, one hundred percent fierceness to zero percent damage. Leon shouldn’t feel fond, but he did.
“So we’re not going anywhere just yet,” Leon said, keeping it matter of fact because he could see the beginnings of humiliation in the way Karl had raised a hand to rub over his face, as if to hide his expression. “We need to get you well as quickly as possible, but—”
Suddenly remembering, he leaned back in close and lowered his voice again.
