Felicity's eyelids fluttered as she slowly regained consciousness. The world around her was a blur, and she felt a strange heaviness in her limbs. As her vision cleared, she found herself lying on a makeshift bedroll, the soft glow of the campfire flickering nearby.
Her heart raced as she tried to sit up, but a gentle hand pressed her back down.
"Easy there," a deep, sexy voice said, smooth yet commanding.
She turned her head and gasped.
That is the hottest man I've ever seen in my life, she thought.
Before her loomed a towering figure unlike any she had ever encountered. Standing at least six and a half feet tall, his impossibly broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist adorned with sculpted abs that caught the light with each breath. His silver hair, tipped with midnight black at the ends, framed a face that seemed carved from marble by a master's hand. Those blood-red eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch, and behind him, massive wings feathered in the same silver-to-black gradient as his hair unfurled slightly, as if responding to her gaze.
In that moment, it felt as if fireworks were going off in her heart. A rush of emotions surged through her, admiration, awe, and an inexplicable attraction that left her breathless. She had never felt anything like it before, and it both thrilled and terrified her. She blushed and looked away.
Victor watched her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. There was a possessiveness in his gaze, as if he were silently claiming her as his own. She felt a strange sense of safety in his presence despite the chaos that surrounded them, making her lean toward him.
"Who are you?" she managed to whisper, her voice hoarse.
"Victor," he replied, his tone low and steady. "You collapsed. We found you by the stream. You scared me."
Felicity's heart swelled at his words. He had been worried about her? The realization sent another wave of warmth through her, igniting a flutter of butterflies in her chest. She searched his eyes, trying to understand the man before her. There was something fierce and protective in his demeanor, and it drew her in like a moth to a flame.
"Thank you for saving me," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Heat flooded Felicity's cheeks as she fixed her gaze on her scuffed boots, her shoulders hunching inward like a shield. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, her throat tightening around words that refused to form. The man's voice seemed to fill the small space, each syllable making her pulse skitter like a frightened animal.
Victor's expression softened, and for a moment, the intensity in his eyes gave way to something gentler. "You don't need to thank me. I won't let anything happen to you. Not while I'm here."
Felicity looked into his eyes and whispered, "Thank you."
As she lay there, feeling the weight of his gaze, Felicity realized that this encounter was more than just a chance meeting. It felt like the beginning of something profound, something that could change everything.
As Felicity blinked away the haze of unconsciousness, she became aware of the soft murmurs around her. Finch and Rose were nearby, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity.
"Look, she's awake!" Finch exclaimed, his voice brightening the atmosphere.
Victor's gaze shifted sharply to Finch, a warning glare that could cut through steel. Felicity noticed the tension in the air, the way Victor's body seemed to tense as he positioned himself protectively closer to her.
Heat crept up her neck as her breath caught in her throat. She'd never been with anyone before, had barely even been kissed, but something primal within her recognized the intensity of what she'd just witnessed.
"Easy there, big guy," Finch said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just here to check on her. No need to get all possessive."
Victor's eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond, his focus unwavering on Felicity.
Rose stepped forward, her expression softening as she looked at Felicity. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently, her voice soothing.
Felicity managed a small smile, still feeling the warmth of Victor's presence beside her. Her voice cracked as she spotted her friend. "Rose!" She tried to stand, wobbling slightly before steadying herself. "I'm fine, really." The lie caught in her throat as tears welled in her eyes.
"You scared us," Rose said, her eyes darting between Felicity and Victor. She could sense the tension and the way Victor seemed to radiate protectiveness.
Finch, ever the jokester, leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. "Don't worry, Felicity. I'm only interested in Rose here," he said, winking at her.
Rose's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she lightly held Finch's hand, a gesture that made his tail wag with excitement. The playful banter between them was infectious, and Felicity couldn't help but smile at their chemistry.
Victor's expression darkened slightly, a fierce, primal need to claim and protect what was his flaring as he watched the interaction. He shifted closer to Felicity, as if to remind everyone of his presence.
"Relax, man. I'm not trying to steal her away. I've got my eyes on Rose here. Right, Rose?"
Rose nodded, her smile widening as she squeezed Finch's hand. "Yes, I'm happy with Finch. But we all need to look out for each other, especially after what just happened."
Victor's expression softened slightly at Rose's words, but he remained vigilant, his gaze flickering back to Felicity. He felt a strange mix of protectiveness and admiration for her, and he wasn't about to let anyone forget it.
As the group settled into a comfortable rhythm, Felicity felt a warmth spread through her, not just from Victor's presence, but from the camaraderie that surrounded her. She realized that she was not alone in this chaotic world, and perhaps, just perhaps, she had found a place where she truly belonged.
Night settled over the camp, thick and velvet, pressing close with all the concealed threat and unexpected warmth of the new world. The stream sang quietly to itself as fireflies spun their fragile constellations through the ragged grass. Firelight flickered gold and wild across the faces of the four companions, lending Victor an almost mythic silhouette as he moved through the shadows, eyes forever fixed on Felicity.
She was huddled in a blanket one of the few comforts salvaged threadbare but blessed with the scent of detergent and home. The air was chill, the sort of damp cold that pried under collars and sleeves. Felicity's ears twitched with every unfamiliar night sound: the distant call of a mutant curlew, the unplaceable chitter of what might once have been a bandicoot. But Victor's presence was its own kind of blanket, an anchor, even when he was silent.
He sat a little apart from her, hands splayed over his knees, shoulders propped against a fallen log. Yet every flicker of his gaze returned to Felicity, and she felt it physically, like a hand steadying her back. She wanted to ask him why, what instinct drove him to this steady watchfulness but the words dried up in her throat, replaced by the pounding of her heart.
Finch and Rose had drifted, content in each other's orbit. Rose was teaching Finch how to sharpen a scavenged kitchen knife properly; they bickered in whispers, their laughter a soft undercurrent against the river's song. Felicity envied their easy comfort with each other. For her and Victor, there was only a taut, humming line of electricity something like awe, something like fear that neither of them could quite relax into.
She found herself watching him the way he watched her. His silver hair caught the firelight, his eyes glimmered like rubies in the dusk. There was a predatory calm to his stillness; even sitting, he looked ready to spring, to protect or destroy at a moment's notice. She wondered what kind of beast he had become, what animal lurked beneath the skin, but she didn't dare ask. In truth, she already felt the answer in her bones.
It was only when the others had retired to their own blanket nest, leaving Victor and Felicity alone with the fire burning low, that Victor finally spoke.
"You should sleep."
The words were soft, almost gentle, but not quite a request. Something more like a command wrapped in velvet.
"I'm not tired," she lied. Her hands twisted in the fabric of her blanket, restless. She blinked up at him and said softly, "I don't think you're telling the truth either," then immediately covered her mouth with her fingertips, surprised by her own boldness.
He turned fully to her then, elbows on his knees, expression unreadable. "You've never been out of the city," he said, and she shook her head. "It's worse at night. You'll need all your strength tomorrow."
Felicity's lips parted, then closed. The unspoken words stacked up, unmanageable: I'm afraid. Will you stay? Why do you look at me like that? But she didn't say any of them.
Instead, she surprised herself by asking, "What were you? Before this?"
He made a sound half laugh, half sigh, and looked away. For a long moment she thought he wouldn't answer.
Then: "Soldier. Paramedic. Gun for hire. All the same, really."
"That's why you keep helping me?" Her voice sounded too small; she hated it.
His eyes cut back to hers, dangerous and tender in equal measure.
"No," he said. "I help you because I want to. Because I need to."
———————————
The fire snapped, spitting up a brief flare.
When Felicity blinked, Victor was closer. She hadn't seen him move. It was as if distance itself bent for him.
"You nearly died back there," he said quietly. "It's not going to happen again."
She tried to laugh, but it came out uneven. "It's probably going to happen again. That seems to be my thing. I'm pretty clumsy."
He shook his head.
The universe seemed to tilt as he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. His hand was rough but careful, as if touching something both sacred and fragile.
"Not if I can help it."
His thumb lingered. She leaned into the contact without thinking.
The moment stretched, delicate and terrifying. Felicity's pulse roared in her ears. Her fox ears angled forward, tuned to his breath, his presence. The world narrowed until there were only two points of gravity.
Herself.
And Victor.
He cupped her jaw, palm large enough to cradle her face. She thought he might say more, another warning or reassurance. Instead, he bent and pressed his lips to her forehead.
It wasn't chaste.
It wasn't lust.
It was a promise, old and binding as blood.
Her heart fluttered as his lips brushed her skin. Her whole body trembled. Every inch of space between them felt charged, fragile. When he pulled back, she caught his hand, clutching him like he was the only solid thing left in a liquid world.
"Don't leave tonight," she said, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered.
He huffed softly, something like a beast finally settling. "Not going anywhere."
He shifted, drawing her into his lap, wrapping her in arms that could crush but only held. Her cheek pressed to his chest. Beneath it, his heart beat steady and unyielding.
For the first time in a long while, Felicity slept without fear.
Grey dawn peeled back the sky, thin and cold and merciless.
Victor's arms were still around her, his chin resting atop her head. The fire had burned down to ash, but she was warm. She stared into the new day as something inside her softened.
Victor stirred. His eyes opened slowly. He didn't move at first, only looked at her, as if fixing the weight of her in his memory.
"Morning," she said, daring a smile before blushing and dropping her gaze.
He squeezed her once.
She squeaked, startled, earning a low chuckle. Then he released her, letting her rise, though the echo of his arms lingered.
They gathered their things and set out along the ruined riverbank. Finch and Rose bickered ahead, their voices carrying easily. Felicity and Victor walked behind them in quiet step.
His hand rested at the small of her back, guiding her without a word. She knew then she never wanted to walk alone again.
In this dead world, she finally felt alive.
They'd gone less than half a kilometer when the first real test came.
Felicity clung stubbornly to the hem of Victor's shirt, gripping it like a child with a security blanket. But she no longer walked with her head down.
Victor noticed.
Pride stirred in his chest at the realization that she was turning to him for comfort.
Finch led the way, scanning the terrain with predatory focus. Rose trailed just behind, humming softly, eyes bright in the washed-out daylight.
The river narrowed at a bend. Water flickered green over sharp stones. Overhead, the canopy thickened.
Shadows gathered.
Victor caught the scent first. Iron. Rot. Old decay.
Instinct flared.
He dropped back immediately, guiding Felicity behind him with a single silent motion, hand firm at her lower back.
"Finch," he whispered.
The polar bear beastman froze mid-step. His ears flicked, fur bristling as he breathed in.
"Ambush," Finch said flatly.
Rose didn't hesitate. She flipped open the knife she'd sharpened the night before and slipped to Felicity's side.
"Stay close," she murmured, smiling faintly.
Felicity nodded, heart pounding.
The forest went deathly still, Then something moved.
From the rocks emerged a shape wrong in every way. Not a beastman. Not anything that should still exist.
A dog-thing zombie staggered forward, skin peeling, jaw crowded with uneven teeth, eyes cloudy and dead.
More followed.
A pack.
Starving. Desperate. Too close.
"Fucking zombies," Finch muttered.
They charged.
Victor stood loose-limbed but ready, body angled to shield Felicity. "When they rush us," he said without turning, "you go. Don't stop. Run with Rose. Got it?"
She swallowed. "What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you."
The pack hesitated, weighing the odds. The largest, a matriarch with a skull like a battering ram, let out a sound that was almost a laugh, Then they surged.
Victor's eagle wings unfurled as he launched skyward. Frost crystallized along his talons as flames licked up his forearms.
The first zombie leapt.
Victor caught it midair, grip crushing its throat. Ice spread instantly as his other hand ignited, superheating the air. He slammed the creature into a boulder.
The body exploded on impact.
Finch was already moving, wind-enhanced speed leaving blurred afterimages. Each strike carried the force of a hurricane, shattering bone and pulverizing muscle.
Blood painted the sand crimson.
Rose grabbed Felicity's hand and ran.
They rounded a bend and nearly collided with another pair of zombies only for Finch to arrive first, a blur of muscle and manic laughter. He eviscerated one and flung the other into the river without breaking stride.
"Come on!" he whooped.
They ran together.
The path narrowed to a choke point between massive trees.
Victor caught up before Felicity realized he was there, blood streaking his arms and silver hair. He looked at her for just a second.
In that flicker, she saw animal satisfaction and something warmer.
Pride.
Finch panted, then grinned. "Well. That was a wake-up call."
Rose laughed, half hysterical, half relieved, then wrapped Felicity in a fierce hug.
Felicity surprised herself by giggling, high and breathless.
"I'm not ready to be zombie food," Felicity said shakily. "Let's be more careful next time, okay?"
Victor scanned them all, eyes lingering longest on her. "Anyone hurt?"
"No," Rose said. "We're okay."
Victor ignored everyone else. His touch was gentle, precise.
Felicity trembled under it.
"I told you I'd be right behind you," he murmured.
They stood among steaming remains, breathing hard.
And Felicity realized she wasn't just surviving anymore.
They were learning how to live.
"Victor," she said softly. "Let me try something."