Felicity's eyelids fluttered as she slowly regained consciousness. The world around her blurred, and she felt a strange heaviness in her limbs. As her vision cleared, she saw she was lying on a makeshift bedroll by a softly glowing campfire. 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 stood a towering figure at least six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, sculpted abs catching the firelight. Silver hair with midnight-black ends framed a face sharp as marble. Blood-red eyes locked on hers, intense. Behind him, his silver-to-black wings unfurled slightly, responding to her gaze.
Her pulse misfired, sharp and arrhythmic, as if something inside her had been startled awake. Emotions surged: 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, lowering her eyes and turning her head away.
Victor watched her with a burning intensity that made her pulse race. Possessiveness flickered in his gaze, as if he silently branded her as his. Even as chaos raged around them, his presence wrapped her in unexpected safety, drawing her irresistibly closer.
"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." He studied her face as if committing it to memory. His fingers tightened where they hovered near her collarbone, not touching, but close enough for her to feel the heat. "You're not doing that again," he said quietly.
Her stomach flipped. She had never had anyone speak about her survival as if it were theirs to enforce.
Felicity's heart swelled at his words. Had he been worried about her? The realisation sent another wave of warmth through her. Her stomach tightened in a way that was not entirely fear. She searched his eyes, trying to understand the man before her. There was something fierce and protective in his demeanour, 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 stared at her scuffed boots, shoulders hunched. She twisted a lock of hair, throat tight. His voice filled the space, making her pulse skitter.
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 realised 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 tensed as he moved 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 recognised 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, the warmth of Victor's presence beside her lingering. Her voice cracked as she spotted her friend. "Rose!" She pushed herself up, attempting to stand but wobbling before steadying herself and remaining seated. "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 crouched on the other side of the fire, rubbing the back of his neck "Good, you're awake," he said, relief bleeding through despite his attempt to sound casual.
Victor's eyes flicked instantly to Finch, and the air in the camp seemed to tighten with tension.
Finch noticed, "So we're doing that now?" Finch muttered. "You met her an hour ago."
Victor didn't answer. He didn't have one.
That's stronger than jokes.
Rose leaned against a log, watching Victor like she was assessing a predator she hadn't decided to fight yet "Are you always like this?" she asked him.
Victor didn't look at her "Yes."
Rose snorted once, "Good to know."
Victor's expression darkened. A fierce urge to claim and protect flared as he watched the others. He moved closer to Felicity, reminding 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 also from the camaraderie around her. She realised 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 huddled in a blanket, one of the few comforts salvaged, threadbare but blessed with the scent of detergent and home. She shivered as the chill, damp air pried under her collar and sleeves. Felicity flattened her ears, straining to identify every unfamiliar night sound: the distant call of a mutant curlew, the unplaceable chitter of what might once have been a bandicoot. Victor sat beside her, his silent, steady presence grounding her like an anchor, a different kind of warmth.
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 drifted, content in each other's orbit. Rose taught Finch to sharpen a scavenged kitchen knife; they bickered in whispers, laughter a soft undercurrent to the river's song. Felicity envied their easy comfort. For her and Victor, only a taut, humming line of electricity remained—something like awe, something like fear—neither could quite relax into it.
She found herself watching him, observing the way he watched her. His silver hair caught the firelight, and his eyes glimmered like rubies in the dusk. Even sitting, his posture was alert—a predatory calm suggesting he was ready to spring, to protect or destroy at any moment. She wondered what kind of beast lay beneath his calm exterior, but she didn't dare ask; in truth, her body already sensed the answer.
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, hands twisting the blanket as nervous energy roiled beneath her skin. She met his eyes for a heartbeat, sparks flying in the silence. "I don't think you're telling the truth either," she blurted, hand instantly flying to her mouth in shock and exhilaration at her own boldness.
He turned to her, elbows on knees, expression unreadable. "You've never left the city." She shook her head. "It's worse at night. You'll need strength tomorrow."
Felicity's lips parted as if to speak, then slowly 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 and 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, his gaze held hers, "No, I stay because I can't leave."
———————————
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 the 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. When his lips pressed to her forehead, it felt less like affection and more like something ancient sealing shut, a mark without teeth, a claim without words. He inhaled against her hair once before pulling back.
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 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 would never walk alone again.
In this dead world, she finally felt alive.
They'd gone less than half a kilometre 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.
Satisfaction coiled low in his chest when he noticed she gravitated toward him without thinking.
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, and shadows gathered.
Victor caught the scent first; 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 beast man, not anything that should still exist.
A dog-thing zombie staggered forward, skin peeling, jaw crowded with uneven teeth, eyes cloudy and dead, and more followed in a pack. They were starving and 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?"
"Run," he said.
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 crystallised 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 pulverising 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 realised 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 stepped in front of her before speaking. His hands moved over her arms, shoulders, ribs, quick and precise, checking for breaks. Only when he was satisfied did he glance at the others.
"Report."
"We're okay," Rose said.
Victor ignored everyone else. His touch was gentle, precise.
Felicity trembled under it.
They stood among steaming remains, breathing hard.
And Felicity realised she wasn't just surviving anymore.
They were learning how to live.
"Victor," she said softly. "Let me try something."