After a moment, Felicity stirred, her eyelids fluttering weakly.
Victor's heart jumped. "Just a little more," he murmured, steady and encouraging. "You can do this."
With Rose's help, they managed to get the rest of the medicine into her. Victor watched closely as she swallowed, relief washing through him as the tension in his shoulders eased, just a fraction.
When it was done, he stepped back to the edge of the makeshift bedroll, standing guard. "All we can do now is wait," he said, jaw tight. "Someone stays with her. Every moment."
His gaze never left Felicity. He had spent his life keeping distance, keeping walls high and unyielding, but somehow she had slipped straight through them. He would protect her. Whatever it took.
Felicity's eyelids fluttered again, this time staying open. The world swam into focus slowly. Firelight flickered nearby, shadows dancing across unfamiliar faces. Her limbs felt heavy, uncooperative, as though they belonged to someone else. She tried to sit up.
A gentle but firm hand pressed her back down. "Easy," a deep voice said, smooth and commanding
She turned her head.
Oh.
That is the hottest man I have ever seen in my life, she thought faintly.
He loomed beside her, towering and broad shouldered, easily over six feet tall. His silver hair faded into midnight black at the tips, framing a face sharp enough to look sculpted rather than born. Blood red eyes locked onto hers, intense and unreadable. Behind him, massive wings unfurled slightly, feathers shifting from silver to black as though alive.
Fireworks exploded in her chest. Admiration. Awe. Something deeper and far more dangerous. She blushed and looked away, suddenly very aware of her own racing heart.
Victor watched her closely, his gaze heavy with focus. There was something grounding in his presence, something that made the chaos of the world feel distant. Safe. Against her will, she found herself leaning subtly toward him.
"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice rough. "Victor," he replied. "You collapsed by the stream. You scared me." Her heart stuttered.
He was worried about me?
Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading outward in nervous flutters. She searched his face, finding something fierce beneath the calm. Protective. Unyielding.
"Thank you," she said softly.
His expression softened, the sharp intensity easing just enough to reveal something gentler beneath. "You don't need to thank me. I won't let anything happen to you. Not while I'm here." She met his eyes again. "Thank you," she whispered, meaning far more than the words could say. Something unspoken passed between them.
As the haze fully lifted, Felicity became aware of movement nearby.
Finch and Rose stood close, relief plain on their faces.
"She's awake!" Finch exclaimed, grinning.
Victor's gaze snapped toward him, sharp and warning.
Felicity noticed the shift immediately, the way Victor positioned himself closer, subtly but unmistakably protective.
Heat crept up her neck. She had never been close to anyone like this before, never felt attention so intense it seemed to settle beneath her skin.
"Easy, big guy," Finch said, lifting his hands. "I'm just checking on her."
Victor didn't respond. He didn't need to.
Rose stepped forward, her expression soft. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.
Felicity smiled weakly. "Rose." Emotion swelled in her chest as she tried to stand, wobbling before steadying herself. "I'm okay. Really."
The lie trembled as tears threatened.
"You scared us," Rose said, her gaze flicking briefly to Victor, sensing the tension.
Finch leaned in with a grin. "Relax. I'm only interested in Rose here."
Rose flushed and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. Finch's tail wagged despite himself.
The sight made Felicity smile.
Victor shifted again, watching everything with quiet vigilance, his attention returning to Felicity as if checking she was still there.
"See?" Finch said lightly. "No competition."
Rose nodded. "We stick together. All of us."
Victor inclined his head slightly, though his eyes never strayed far from Felicity.
As the night settled around them, thick and velvet dark, Felicity felt warmth bloom in her chest. Not just from Victor's presence, but from the strange, fragile sense of belonging growing between them all.
The stream murmured softly nearby. Fireflies traced fragile constellations through the grass. Firelight painted Victor in gold and shadow, giving him an almost mythic silhouette as he moved just close enough to make sure she was safe.
And for the first time since the world had fallen apart, Felicity felt like she might not be alone anymore.
She was huddled beneath a blanket, one of the few comforts they had salvaged. It was threadbare, thin at the edges, but it still carried the faint scent of detergent and something like home. The air was damp and cold, the kind that crept beneath collars and sleeves no matter how tightly you wrapped yourself.
Felicity's ears twitched at every unfamiliar sound. The distant cry of a mutant curlew echoed through the dark, followed by the unsettling chitter of something that might once have been a bandicoot. Each noise set her nerves humming.
But Victor's presence was its own kind of warmth. He sat a short distance away, hands resting on his knees, broad shoulders braced against a fallen log. He was quiet, still, yet his attention never truly left her. Every so often, she felt his gaze return, steady and grounding, like an invisible hand at her back keeping her upright.
She wanted to ask him why. What instinct drove him to watch her like this, unwavering and fierce. But the question dried in her throat, crowded out by the heavy thud of her heart. Nearby, Finch and Rose had settled into their own orbit. Rose was showing Finch how to properly sharpen a scavenged kitchen knife, their whispered bickering threaded with soft laughter. Their ease with one another made Felicity ache with a quiet envy.
For her and Victor, there was no ease. Only a taut, humming tension. Something like awe. Something like fear. A fragile electricity neither of them dared touch too directly.
She realized she was watching him now the way he watched her. Firelight caught in his silver hair, casting molten highlights through the dark strands. His eyes gleamed like rubies in the low light. There was a predatory calm in his stillness, the sense that even at rest he was ready to move, to protect or destroy without hesitation. She wondered what kind of beast he had become. What animal lurked beneath the wings and the strength and the gaze.
She didn't ask. Somehow, she already knew.
When Finch and Rose finally retreated to their blankets, leaving the fire burning low and the night pressing close, Victor spoke at last.
"You should sleep." His voice was quiet, almost gentle, but it wasn't a request. It was a command wrapped in velvet.
"I'm not tired," she said, the lie slipping out too easily. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her blanket. She blinked, then added softly, surprising herself, "I don't think you're telling the truth either." The words startled her enough that she immediately covered her mouth, eyes wide. Victor turned fully toward her, elbows resting on his knees. His expression was unreadable.
"You've never been out of the city," he said. She shook her head.
"It's worse at night," he continued. "You'll need all your strength tomorrow."
Her lips parted, then closed again. The things she wanted to say tangled together, overwhelming. I'm scared. Will you stay? Why do you look at me like that?
Instead, she asked, "What were you? Before this?" He let out a sound that was half laugh, half sigh, and looked away. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.
Then he said, "Soldier. Paramedic. Gun for hire." A pause. "All the same, really."
"That's why you keep helping me?" The question slipped out small and fragile, and she hated how vulnerable it sounded.
His gaze snapped back to hers.
There was danger there. And something achingly tender.
"No," he said quietly. "I help you because I want to."
"Because I need to."