They gathered for a meal beneath lantern light and scavenged warmth, exhaustion settling deep into muscle and bone.
It was not a formal circle, not ceremonial, just a loose sprawl of bodies around heat and food, but Felicity noticed something immediately.
She was not tucked away, No one ushered her to the side. No one served her first out of obligation or last out of caution. She sat shoulder to shoulder with Snow Team, knees brushing boots, tail tucked close but present, eating the same food from the same battered plates.
She had earned this spot.
The stew was thick and salty and real. Someone had found actual dried herbs. Someone else had burned the bread slightly and apologized like it mattered. Felicity ate slowly, savoring it, aware of Victor's presence at her back like an anchor. He did not hover. He did not crowd.
He was just… there.
Every so often, his hand brushed her shoulder as he shifted, testing her balance without looking, checking that she was steady. It made her feel absurdly safe. Like a very serious backpack, she thought again, fondly.
Across the fire, Tommy slurped loudly and sighed. "I would like it on record that this is the best meal I've had since the world ended."
Kai glanced at him sideways. "You ate a battery yesterday."
"I said best," Tommy replied, unbothered.
Kai smirked and nudged his bowl toward Felicity. "You want more? I don't need it."
She blinked. "Oh, um.."
Victor answered for her, calm and final. "She's fine."
Kai lifted his hands in surrender. "Just offering."
Felicity caught the glance Victor sent him. Not hostile. Not warm. A reminder. She swallowed, then smiled a little and focused on her food.
Across the circle, Rose sat with her back straight, eyes sharp, posture relaxed in a way that meant she was anything but. Finch sat beside her. Not touching. Not looking at her directly.
And yet.
Every single member of Snow Team noticed it.
The way Finch's scent wrapped around Rose like a second skin. The way Rose's tail flicked once whenever Finch shifted too far away. The way neither of them reacted when someone brushed too close, because they didn't need to.
Tommy leaned toward Ash and whispered, far too loudly, "Oh. Ohhh."
Ash followed his gaze, then immediately looked away. "Do not comment."
"I am commenting internally," Tommy whispered. "Very respectfully."
Sarge cleared his throat. Loudly.
No one said anything.
No one needed to.
Felicity noticed the sudden, collective decision to mind their own business and decided she liked Snow Team very much.
She had just finished her bowl when the alert rippled through the watchers.
"Movement," came the call, low and sharp. "Group approaching from the east."
The camp shifted instantly.
Lanterns dimmed. Bodies rose. Weapons did not come out, Magic did.
Victor stood in one smooth motion, his presence snapping into something colder, heavier. "Positions."
Felicity rose with them, heart steady, not racing the way it used to. Victor's hand hovered at her back, close enough to feel, not touching.
The newcomers emerged from the dark in a loose formation.
Rats.
Sleek bodies low to the ground, twitching noses, sharp fangs catching the lantern light. Clever eyes. Hungry eyes. They moved like a pack that knew how to survive by taking from others.
At their center strode their leader.
A hawk-faced man with storm gray wings folded tight against his back. Icy hair floated around his head like smoke, lifting even without wind. His gaze was sharp enough to cut.
He raised one taloned hand in mock greeting. "Looking to trespass, are we?" His voice slid smoothly, threat tucked neatly between syllables. "That's our nest you're stepping on."
Victor stepped forward.
He didn't rush. Didn't flare power. He just moved, and the space between them bent around him like it recognized authority.
"Not anymore," Victor said calmly. "Snow Team runs the vault now. If you want in, get through me."
One of the rats snorted, tail flicking. Another stepped forward, eyes crawling over the group, lingering too long on Felicity.
"Your group needs to share those women," the rat sneered. "It's not right, hoarding them."
He jabbed a dirty finger toward Felicity. "We demand to join your team. We survived too."
The hawk-man screeched in agreement, wings snapping open. The sound scraped down Felicity's spine.
Their stares crawled over her skin. Entitled. Measuring. Like she was a resource to be redistributed.
Something deep in her chest tightened.
Before she could think, a growl rose behind her, low and feral.
Voss.
His teeth were bared, magic rolling under his skin in visible distortion. "Touch her," he said calmly, "and I'll rip every feather from your skull."
Kai shifted.
Not disappearing fully. Just enough that his outline went wrong. He reappeared a step closer without warning.
Sarge's fingers crackled with restrained lightning. The air smelled sharp and electric.
Victor lifted one hand.
Everything stilled.
He stepped forward again, wings barely stirring, eyes cold. "Leave your loot and leave. We don't owe you shit."
The hawk-man's feathers bristled. Sweat beaded at his temples as his gaze flicked between Victor, Voss, the shadows where Kai lingered, the way the team stood ready without needing instruction.
He recalculated.
Poorly.
"Pretty thing like you," he hissed at Felicity, spite curling his words, "shouldn't trust these animals. They'll tear you apart the moment you stop being useful."
Something surprised her.
She didn't shrink.
Felicity lifted her chin and met his gaze, steady and unblinking. Her tail flicked once behind her, not nervous. Alert.
"I'm not useful," she said softly. "I'm dangerous."
Victor moved.
Not fast. Not loud.
Just enough that his presence swallowed the threat whole.
The hawk-man shrieked, panicked, wings snapping wide as he launched skyward. His crew scattered after him, rats vanishing into the dark like leaves in a storm.
Silence followed.
Victor didn't look at Felicity right away.
When he did, his gaze was intent, protective in a way that felt earned now, not assumed.
As soon as the threat vanished, he cupped her face with both hands, gentleness so sharp it almost hurt. His thumb brushed her cheek, grounding, reverent.
"You did good," he said quietly. "You held your ground."
Voss stepped in immediately, shoulder brushing hers, crowding the space like it belonged to him too. "She always does," he said, voice rougher, lower.
Victor did not move his hands.
Voss did not move his shoulder.
Felicity exhaled slowly, heat blooming in her chest. She knew something now she hadn't before, They weren't just keeping her alive.
They were drawing lines around her.
Ash broke the moment by tossing her a chunk of scavenged chocolate. "For morale."
She caught it on reflex, blinking. "Oh. Thank you."
Tommy gasped. "You gave her chocolate and not me?"
Ash shrugged. "Hierarchy."
Tommy looked betrayed. "I have never felt more oppressed."
Kai inclined his head toward Felicity, silent approval in the faintest curve of his mouth.
Inside the bank, barricades went up fast. Floors divided. Sentry stations established. Medical corners formed with practiced efficiency.
Felicity was placed at the heart of the vault, where her magic could reach everyone without exposing her. Victor checked on her every hour. Sometimes it was just a glance from the doorway.
Sometimes he pulled her into his chest for a moment, solid and grounding, like reminding both of them she was real.
That night, as the camp settled into uneasy quiet, Felicity lay awake.
She listened to the soft animal sounds around her. The snores. The shifting. The low murmurs of watch changes.
Victor paced the main hall beyond her door, silhouette broad and steady.
Power hummed through the walls.
She reached out in the dark, half asleep, and wrapped her tail around the nearest warm solid thing.
Voss froze.
Slowly, carefully, his hand came to rest over her tail. He didn't pull. Didn't squeeze.
Just held.
Surprise flickered across his face, followed by something dangerously close to happiness.
He didn't look at Victor.
Victor didn't stop him.
The days that followed blurred into a brutal rhythm.
Hunt. Clear. Claim.
They rolled the city block by block, stripping zombies and salvage alike, reputation growing with every fight. Felicity learned to duck whenever Victor and Voss squared off for "field performance evaluations."
It never stopped them from turning every kill into a competition.
Voss wore a feral smile just for her. Crooked. Impossible to ignore.
Victor stayed steady. Constant.
When they encountered survivors, Victor assessed them with cold precision, Beast cubs. Elders. A handful of beast women clutching weapons too big for them.
After a long pause, Victor nodded.
Sanctuary granted.
They were housed on lower levels, separate but protected.
Within hours, the charity case, as Victor privately called it, began unraveling into a diplomatic migraine.
Felicity watched it all, tail swaying gently, confidence blooming in small, dangerous increments.
She wasn't a passenger anymore, She was part of the line, and Snow Team moved like they knew it.