He drove back in and fucked her hard, no mercy, no words. Just the wet slap and "shlick" noise of his balls hitting her, the ragged, wild sounds she made.
He reached up and grabbed her ears, stroking them until she moaned, then twisted gently, making her curl around the pressure.
With every thrust she lost a bit more of herself, and by the end her cries echoed into the open air, so shameless and wild he almost laughed.
He pressed her face to the grating, one hand tangled in her hair, the other still working her ass, and felt the raw, impossible pleasure building in both of them.
Before she could come, he yanked her up by the scruff and jammed his fingers between her teeth, making her suck them while he fucked her.
Her mouth-watering heat, the way her tongue curled around his knuckles, was almost sweeter than what clutched at his cock. He pumped her, mouth and hole, until her whole body spasmed and she came with a shriek that left her hollowed and trembling.
He didn't stop, not even as she collapsed into a mess of limbs and sobs and bliss. He finished with a growl, emptying himself so deep she'd feel it for days, then let her slide down to the floor, spent and shaking .
For a second it was only the sound of their breathing and the distant shrieks of mutated gulls echoing over the ruined city. Voss crouched beside her, pressing his lips to her brow, and waited for her to steady.
She looked up, face streaked with tears and sweat, gold eyes bare and blurry.
"Yours," she said, voice small but sure.
He grinned, wiped away her mess with his thumb, and said, "Yeah. Remember it."
Behind them, Victor watched from the shadowed rail, no anger in his gaze, only the glint of a eagle satisfied with the pack's pecking order.
Voss hauled Felicity up, slack and yielding, and cradled her tight with one arm beneath her knees, the other across her back. He barely noticed the trickle of seed and sweat smearing over his forearm as he shouldered open the stairwell door, chin nuzzled to the sweetly disordered crown of her head.
Victor peeled himself from the darkness of the landing and fell into step, stride matching Voss's, gaze flickering hungry over the mess of her.
Felicity's eyes lolled in her skull, half-drowned in endorphin fog, and her tail curled petulant and twitching against Voss's hip.
They descended with purpose.
Bare feet slapped against concrete as Victor and Voss carried Felicity through the dim, bare bulbed corridors, the echo of their steps ringing like a declaration.
By the time they reached the lower level, the rest of the team had already gathered, drawn by instinct more than sound.
The air told the story.
Felicity's scent rolled down the hall in a heavy, intoxicating wave.
Warm. Claimed. Alive. Every beastkin present felt it hit their spine like a spark. Some turned their faces away out of respect.
Most didn't. Low rumbles spread through the room, a chorus of restrained hunger and awe.
Voss didn't bare his teeth this time.
He pulled Felicity closer against his chest, her limbs lax with exhaustion, her head tucked beneath his chin. The message was unmistakable: look if you must, but do not imagine touching.
"Water," Voss said sharply. "Clean. Hot."
The command cracked through the room.
Tommy scrambled forward at once, palms lifting as blue light shimmered across his skin.
A nearby pipe groaned, then burst obediently, water spiraling into an old enamel basin with steaming force.
Victor watched it all with quiet intensity, arms folded, wings flared just enough to block the worst of the stares. His eyes never left Felicity. Not when she shivered. Not when she shifted weakly, fingers curling into fabric like she was anchoring herself to the world.
When the basin was ready, Voss set her carefully on the edge, her tail drooping over the side. "Stay," he murmured, softer now, though the command still carried weight.
Victor stepped in beside him without a word.
Together, they washed her.
Not hurried. Not rough. Every touch deliberate, cleansing away blood, grime, and the evidence of violence and survival.
Victor's body formed a living barrier between Felicity and the watching team, while Voss's hands moved with reverent care.
The water turned cloudy with the proof of their frenzy.
Felicity whimpered as the first wash stung at the raw places but shivered less as Voss scrubbed her hair, his hands surprisingly gentle for someone who'd practically mauled her minutes before.
"There you go, sunshine," he muttered, raking damp hair away from her foxed ears. "Good as new."
Victor brought a cracked mug of water to Felicity's lips, tipping it slow, careful not to drown her, even as she gulped in greedy, uneven drafts.
She blinked at him, blue eyes dazed but shining, and he wiped the excess from her chin with a reverent thumb.
No words crossed between them, just the low, feral rumble of their breathing and the snap and pop of the leaking pipe.
When she was finally rinsed clean, Voss scooped her up again and carried her through the gawking team.
Victor shadowing so close their shoulders touched. They mounted the stairs to a half collapsed Vault, where layered mats and ragged sleeping bags marked their den.
Voss set Felicity in the center, burrowed beneath a moth-eaten blanket, and Victor slid in on one side, his body making a wall she could collapse against.
Voss surprised her by curling in at her back, spooning her with the full, bruising heat of a body that still didn't know gentleness.
Felicity made a small, grateful sound, and for a moment, she was pinned safely between two monsters one wolf, one eagle each guarding her against the world and against each other.
The lights clicked off in the rest of the building, and the only noise was the steady, regulated breathing of three bodies trying to recalibrate from violence into comfort.
The next morning, Felicity woke with her cheek wedged into Victor's silk-fine hair, her nose full of the sharp tang of male and the faint, ozone scent of distant rain.
She felt sore in ways she'd never imagined hips, thighs, even the arch of her feet but the warmth was a balm, and her mind hummed with a new, strange peace.
She opened her eyes. Victor's hand was around her wrist, thumb circling her pulse as if he needed evidence she was still alive.
On the other side, Voss had one arm slung wild over her waist, his breath stirring the trembling tips of her ears.
He was already awake, and his gaze locked with hers when she tried to shift.
"Hungry?" he asked, voice a grating whisper.
She nodded. She was starving.
They escorted her down the stairs again, this time her feet on the ground, though both men kept a hand on her at all times.
Morning crept in quietly, pale light filtering through broken concrete and leaves. Someone had scavenged what little food the ruins had offered: a dented can of peaches, brittle crackers, a greasy slab of meat that might once have been kangaroo. The smell made Felicity's stomach tighten with want.
She shifted, about to reach for the peaches.
Victor moved first.
"Before you eat," he said calmly.
He stepped aside and reached into the empty air beside him.
Space rippled. Then folded.
A spread appeared on the ground like it had been laid by unseen hands. Fresh bread, still warm. Eggs, steaming and soft. Fruit glistening with juice. Clean water. Honey. Real butter. The smell hit Felicity all at once, rich and overwhelming.
Her mouth watered painfully.
Victor knelt and arranged it with deliberate care, his wings half unfurled as if shielding it.
"You need proper fuel," he said. "Your body burned through more than you realize."
The rest of the team went very still.
No one reached for the food.
In fact, no one was looking at it. They were looking at her, Felicity felt it then, the weight of their attention. Not crude, not leering.
Hungry in a way that made her skin prickle. Protective. Assessing. Like she was the resource worth guarding.
Rose noticed immediately.
"Oh, absolutely not," she said flatly. "You can all stop staring like she's the main course."
A few of them shifted, unapologetic. Victor didn't look away from Felicity. "Eat," he told her, voice low and final.
She obeyed, hands shaking slightly as she tore into the bread. The first bite nearly made her cry. Warmth flooded her chest, strength blooming where exhaustion had hollowed her out. As she ate, Victor watched closely, tracking every breath, every swallow.
"Anyone else starving?" Rose added dryly. "No? Weird. Must just be her."
Victor's gaze lifted at that, red eyes cutting briefly across the group. Whatever he saw there made his jaw tighten.
When Felicity slowed, Victor leaned closer. "That's enough for now."
She blinked up at him. "I'm still"
"I know," he said quietly. "Later." The implication landed heavy.
Rose scoffed. "You don't even pretend subtlety, do you?" Victor didn't answer. He didn't need to.
He rose and addressed the team, voice carrying authority that brooked no argument. Orders followed. Patrols assigned.
Perimeters reinforced. Felicity tried to stand, instinct telling her to help.
A hand pressed her back down.
"Rest," Victor said, already turning away to stand guard. "The world can wait."
She curled back into the mats, heart racing, surrounded by warmth and watchful eyes.
For the first time since the city fell, she didn't feel hunted.
She felt chosen.
And everyone else knew it.