Karl nodded once. They stood there another moment, watching the same land, with, Karl thought, the same aim in mind. Protecting those they cared for.
“I meant what I said earlier,” Leon said, soft enough the wind almost stole it. “You hate not being able to control everything.”
Karl didn’t look at him. No way was he letting Leon see how true that was. “No one likes that.”
He turned and headed back down the trail.
After a second’s pause, Leon followed.
LEON
Leon had shared the perimeter map with the other cats, then stayed behind to guard Luna through the afternoon while they took off to familiarize themselves with the layout of the place. He’d made sure to inform Karl first, of course.
God, this was going to grind his gears, having to report to someone rather than simply doing what was necessary. But he understood the reasons for it—it wouldn’t help anything if the wolves and cats got into a stand-off because someone was somewhere they weren’t expected.
Although he wanted to explore the territory himself, it was more important to get patrols out there. The others were competent, he knew that, and there was no way he was going with them and leaving Luna unguarded. Not that he thought the wolves harbored bad intentions toward her but he couldn’t trust them to protect her the way he would if someone got through the wolves’ security.
And now Antoni was back—apparently the security was startlingly good given the size of the pack and the area their territory covered—and had taken over close protection for Luna while Leon headed for the house in the dusk. Like he said, he didn’t think Matt had anything nefarious in mind, but he wasn’t going to let his queen, let alone his sister, stay overnight in a house full of wolves without scoping the place out first.
Luna and Matt had gone inside as the afternoon darkened into evening, but some of the wolves were still sitting around the table, despite the growing chill in the air. Somewhere behind him, Tristan’s laugh rang out—bright and open and so fucking young it made Leon clench his jaw. Tristan couldn’t be more than five years younger than him, but the difference in the optimistic anticipation with which he viewed the world made it feel like decades.
Of course he was fascinated by the cats. They were new and different, dangerous in all the ways someone like Tristan would find exciting and harmless at once. Leon had watched him bouncing questions off Antoni like a sugar-high terrier. Every answer delighted him, because Tristan didn’t know what it meant to be different and have itcost.
He paused on the porch, letting the shadows claim him, watching the soft spill of yellow light through the kitchen windows. Dishes clattered inside, as if someone was loading the dishwasher. The kind of domestic quiet that made something in his chest fold in on itself.
He didn’t belong here. Where people touched easily and talked freely and justwere, without needing to prove themselves.
He drew in a deep breath and caught the faintest trace of horses from the barn. Karl’s scent was buried in there somewhere, too. He didn’t know what to make of Karl. He’d expected the hostility and territorial stubbornness. But as well as those, he’d found perceptiveness, restraint, and something heavier underneath. Something he almost recognized. Almost.
He still didn’t trust Karl, but he respected his abilities. So far, anyway. That was both unexpected and more than a little inconvenient. Not least because the more he watched Karl, saw his effortless prowl, the way his jeans fit just right, the more he was thinking things that he shouldn’t be thinking. Not when on the job.
Leon eased down to sit on the porch steps, taking a moment before he had to go inside and deal with yet more wolves. He found himself twisting the ring on the chain around his neck. The ring had been a gift from Luna years ago—all she could find to give him in the scramble before he’d been sent away—and he’d threaded it onto a chain when it no longer fit his finger. A promise, with all the weight that went with that, and even now, it grounded him. Reminded him he was loved and wanted, at least by someone.
Tilting his head back, he watched the sky. Stars shone like pinpricks of light in the darkness, distant and perfect. So much space. So much silence. And yet the wolves made this place feel full. Conversation drifted up from the far end of the yard, and someone howled with laughter—almost literally, he suspected.
They weren’tbad,so far as wolves went, but they were a pack. And Leon didn’t trust groups. Groups, by definition, excluded people.
Matt was different from all his expectations—measured, smart, somehow inhabiting his authority without needing to wield it. Tom had the stillness Leon recognized in people who knew how to wait for the right moment to strike. And the more he’d seen of Bryce, the more he suspected that, annoying as he was, there were teeth under the sunshine.
But the rest of those he’d met? They were too open, too welcoming. Too confident in their safety.
It made Leon itch, because confidence like that only lasted until the moment it didn’t, when everything was turned upside down and nothing was ever the same again. Relaxing made people soft, and softness got them hurt.
And Karl—Karl should have known better. Should watch his people more closely. ShouldcorrectTristan’s reckless enthusiasm, not let it go as if it was endearing rather thandangerous.
Leon tucked his hair behind his ear, taking a moment to ensure it was sleek, with no tangles, no flyaway ends. Maybe he was overreacting. But tomorrow, if Tristan wasn’t concentrating, if one of the pack turned their back without checking shadows, if one more wolf acted like their casual unity was enough to keep Luna safe…
Well. Leon might have to teach them otherwise.
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the night settle around him like a cloak. It felt right. Better to be the thing who couldn’t be seen coming than to be taken by surprise. Never again.
Chapter Five
KARL
Karl stirred at the murmur of sleepy voices from the next room. It took him an instant to remember why he was on the floor, in a room that felt like his and yet somehow didn’t.
And then he let his head flump down onto the pile of blankets he was curled up on in wolf form, letting out a mournful sigh. Fuckingcats.
