Felicity tucked Victor's good wing against her side so she could steady herself if her knees gave out. "If I start to fall over, catch me. If I sit down on purpose, please let me. There's a difference, even if I haven't given you much evidence of it."
His hand settled around her hip. "I can work with that arrangement. Tell me what you want me to do about the part where you fall into the river."
She smiled, which helped more than she expected. At the pharmacy she'd given the light everything she had because she was scared. Now she kept her thumb against the end of the deepest cut and thought about the distance between that spot and her little finger. That was all she wanted to close. White light spread under her palm. She watched both sides of the cut meet in the middle, then lifted her hand while she could still feel her feet.
The shallow tears closed too. The blood already down his ribs stayed where it was, and her legs felt weak enough that she sat on the bench before they could vote on it. Victor sat with her. For once they'd both managed to stay out of the water.
He produced a handful of dried berries from somewhere and put them in her palm. She studied the torn sleeve, his bare wrist, and the berry he'd kept between his finger and thumb. "I don't suppose there's a rotisserie chicken up the other sleeve?"
"Eat those and you'll find out what I'm keeping for breakfast." He held the last one to her lips. She took it, and the look he gave his thumb afterward made her wish she had taken a little longer.
They kept to the river through the afternoon, moving whenever the road ahead cleared. Victor carried her for the first stretch. By the second, she could walk, and she asked him to let her. He did, although she caught him looking back until she took his hand. Shortly before dark they found a fenced playground with a gate that still latched. Finch blocked the opening under it with a fallen bench. From the jungle gym, the first watch could see both ways along the path. The old slide had come down on one side, leaving a snug, dry spot behind it with room for two blankets.
Felicity had spent all day making decisions because something with teeth was about to make them for her. When she and Victor finally had a minute alone behind that slide, she had no idea what to do with a choice she could actually take her time over. He had cleaned the blood off, and a narrow line of pale skin showed where she'd healed him. She wanted to kiss him there. She also wanted to crawl into her blanket and keep that humiliating information to herself.
He touched the little line. "Does it bother you that it left a scar?"
"It bothers me that I've been staring at your chest long enough for you to think I have a medical opinion." He laughed, and she went up on her toes and kissed the spot before she could lose her nerve. His laugh stopped in the middle. That was a sound she could get used to making him make.
He brought her down onto the blanket with a hand cupped behind her head. His first kiss caught her by surprise, his second went exactly where she wanted it, and on the third she reached under his shirt for herself. The scar felt different under her fingers now that she knew how his skin moved when he wanted her.
"Before we get any further," she said against his mouth, "I've never had sex. I figured I should mention that before one of us mistakes all this enthusiasm for technical skill."
"I can handle enthusiasm." He kissed the corner of her mouth, then waited until she looked at him. "If something hurts, tell me. You don't owe me a good time because I carried you."
She pushed his shirt over his head. "I spent half the day walking just to prove I could. Believe me, Victor, if I wanted you to carry me again, I'd ask for the much cheaper option."
His hand slid beneath her shirt. Her nipples tightened under his palm, and when his thumb grazed one, she arched against him and nearly knocked their foreheads together. The awkward little bump took the last of the fear out of it. She helped him pull her shirt off and let him see her, even with the lamplight from the path coming through the fence. When his mouth closed over her breast, the pleasure caught her hard enough that she forgot what she'd once thought was wrong with it.
She hooked her fingers in his waistband. He let her feel the hard length of him through his shorts before he helped her pull them down. He was watching her face, a man who could bring down a pack of dead dogs and was plainly worried about the opinion of one naked woman. She kissed him so he'd know what it was.
When his hand slipped between her thighs, she caught his wrist long enough to show him the pressure she liked. He found her clit with his thumb and kept that same slow rhythm until she was wet and pulling him closer. His wing stretched over the blanket. She could still see his face, but anyone beyond those feathers would have needed a written invitation and a pair of bolt cutters.
"Come here, Victor. I want to feel you." He settled between her thighs and eased into her. The stretch stung, and she held his hips still for a breath. When she drew him closer, he understood the difference. The next stroke felt so good that she buried her face in his shoulder to keep from telling the whole damn park.
She felt his teeth against the skin below her ear. He stopped there, even when she turned her head to give him room. It took her a moment to realize that the sound coming out of his chest had a word in it. He wanted to call her his. With him still inside her and his mouth right there against her neck, Felicity discovered she wanted a turn at that word herself.