His cat raised its head, deep inside. Leon’s cat was quiet, most of the time, because they were so much in tune with one another it rarely needed to tell him what it was thinking. But right now, it was letting him know something, and he didn’t know what.
When he did finally get it, he almost fell out of his chair in shock.Mine.
He froze. It couldn’t—no, his cat was still confused from last night,from the pretense.
Mateit insisted. Quiet, yet absolutely certain.
It wasn’t possible. Leaving aside the fact it was Karl and how bossy and annoying he was, he was awolf. Wolves and cats didn’t—they’d never—
Mine.
Leon stood up so fast his chair scraped across the floor. Nope. He didn’t do boyfriends. He didn’t do relationships in any form. Hell, he didn’t even do brunch.
This couldn’t be happening to him.You’re wrong, he told his cat.You’re confused. We’re trapped, we’re stressed, he’s hot, and we’re having a crisis. This is Stockholm Syndrome with a twist. That’sall.
His cat, annoyingly, just stretched in satisfaction.
Leon shoved both hands through his hair. He was losing his mind. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t some purring, silken little cat who was his mate. Not that he’dwanta cat like that for his mate, but at least they’d have a grooming routine. No, this was Karl. Growly, rigid, sarcastic, with that ridiculously hot voice and annoying, brave face. Karl, who’d just fallen apart and trusted Leon with the memory that haunted him.
Shit.Leon sat back down, hard, like his legs had given up.
No. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fate, this was a mistake. And he was going to find a way to unmake it.
KARL
He didn’t know why, but Leon had suddenly started pacing around the room as if someone had put hot coals under his feet. His first thought, that there was a threat of some kind, only lasted an instant. Leon wasn’t anxious or any more alert than usual. Instead, he looked almost like he was trying to outrun something.
Karl tracked him with his eyes. “You all right?” he asked finally, once Leon had sat down in his chair with a very uncatlike thump.
“Fine.”
Karl raised an eyebrow because he knew bullshit when he heard it.
Leon made a dismissive gesture, sharp and fast. “Just thinking.”
That wasn’t reassuring, since Leon thinking rarely led to good outcomes, but Karl didn’t push. If Leon wanted to tell him what was going on, he would. And if he didn’t… well. That was who Leon was. Sharp-edged and self-contained.
He pushed himself a little more upright and asked, “So what’s our plan?”
Leon blinked at him. “Our plan?”
“You’re not leaving,” Karl said bluntly. “We’ve established that. So I’m assuming you’d rather we didn’t die here.”
Leon gave a noise that was almost a laugh, but not quite. “I mean, I’ve got a slight preference, yeah.”
“Then we plan,” Karl said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
That did it. Leon breathed in deep, his eyes sharpening as he focused, reminding Karl unmistakably of the predatory nature of his cat. And yet, something still lingered in his face, as if part of him was somewhere else, caught in a current he couldn’t control.
Leon leaned forward, lowering his voice. “We’re outnumbered, so our only option is to run. Which means we need to know how your leg’s healing. I asked Ruth why it’s so bad now, when you were able to walk on it yesterday.”
“And?” Karl asked, and he’d never admit to anyone he was scared of the answer. Because the weakness he’d felt, the sheer inability to move his leg—he’d wondered if he might lose it.
“She said that itwillheal,” Leon said, as if he’d somehow sensed Karl’s fear. “But it’s taking longer than usual because of how far the infection had spread by the time they treated you.” His shoulders tensed in anger, before he gave a small snort of amusement and added, “She also said that you were probably running on adrenaline before, because you have every sign of being a control-freak trauma-sponge who ignores every warning sign your body sends you until it screams.”
Karl blinked. “She really said that?” It sounded more like the kind of accusation Leon would throw at him.
“Her exact words,” Leon said with some satisfaction. “I may have memorized them.”
