“His adult coat hasn’t grown in yet,” Hailey said, and she smiled at him, something like fondness in her face. Maybe Karl’s heroics had bought Leon some reflected glory. Or maybe even themost entrenched wolves couldn’t hold out forever against Leon’s perfection. Yet something about it stuck with him. It felt… nice.
At last, they were alone. Leon had been watching Karl, seeing the subtle ways his posture had slipped from upright to strained, the way his mouth tightened when he thought no one noticed. Healing had begun, finally, but it had a way to go. Karl was sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand braced on the mattress. Still upright. Still not back under the covers. A stubborn-assed miracle.
Leon leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “They’re still scared.”
“Yeah,” Karl said. “And they’ve the right to be.” He looked up at Leon. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t think they’ll stay hidden when they find out that they won’t be hunted anymore.”
“Let’s hope,” Leon said, and briefly closed his eyes because what the hell? He was wishing more wolf-shifters on the world?
Karl gave a soft huff. “Let’s hope,” he echoed. Then he moved, bracing his hands on the mattress like he was about to lever himself up.
Leon narrowed his eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I want air,” Karl said. “I’m not made to lie in bed all day.”
“You’re made to be aggravating, is what you’re made to be.”
Karl was already moving, slow but determined. Leon hovered close, arms half-outstretched to catch him if needed, but Karl shot him a flat look and made it upright without help.
Leon tried to glare at him. He suspected it came out more like admiration wearing a scowl.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, half under his breath. “Come on, honey, you should be lying down.”
Karl paused, mid-step. His gaze cut sideways.
“Honey?” he said, eyebrows raised.
Leon didn’t back down, even though the word had slipped out without conscious intention. Even though he’d never used apet name for anyone before, not seriously. Never even thought he would. “I reserve the right,” he said haughtily, “to call you that any time a self-important wolf alpha gets in our business.”
Karl was smiling now. “That so?”
Leon folded his arms. “Damn right.”
They made it to the door together—Karl upright, and Leon pretending he wasn’t worried every time Karl leaned a fraction too hard on the wall.
They stood in the doorway, breathing cold, fresh air. He had no idea what came next. But apparently, they were showing up for it anyway.
Chapter Thirty-one
LEON
The pups were back. Of course they were. Nothing on earth was going to keep them away from a living, breathing jungle gym with a flicky tail.
Leon stretched luxuriously where he lay in a patch of sunlight. He could always climb a tree to get rid of the two pests. But his coat was warm, the ground was comfy, and if the pups got ideas about using him as a chew toy, he figured he could maim them gently.
They hadn’t dared pounce yet, just hovered nearby in that intense way young wolves had, full of desperate longing and barely concealed eagerness. Predictably, Charlie was the bolder one. His nose kept twitching toward Leon’s tail, which was slowly swishing from side to side. A purely coincidental movement. Obviously.
Karl’s laughter caught him off-guard. It was rich and low and felt like sunlight itself. Leon rolled over lazily to find him standing in the doorway of the cabin, upright, dressed, and no longer looking as if he might fall over in a stiff breeze.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Karl said, leaning against the frame with a half-lidded, amused look that made something in Leon go hot and reckless.
Charlie, traitor that he was, abandoned the hunt and barreled straight for Karl with a yip. Karl managed to ease himself down the doorjamb without wincing and accepted the pup’s excited greeting with grace. Charlie’s little friend took a bit longer to warm up, but before long, Karl had both of them in his lap, overexcited paws dangerously close to some very delicate anatomy. And Leon had a vested interest in keeping that anatomy in full working order.
Padding over to where he’d left his clothes, he shifted smoothly and took his time dressing under Karl’s lingering gaze. He felt better for being outside, and for having shifted. He’d been getting positivelywolfish.No more. His cat was back, sleek and superior.
He dropped to sit beside Karl, shoulder brushing his mate’s, as the pups tumbled away in search of more mischief. “Shouldn’t you be resting and healing?” So that they were ready to go, just as soon as those wolves got back with confirmation.
“I’m sitting,” Karl said mildly. “Not exactly running laps.”
