Felicity woke to warmth on both sides.
Solid. Unyielding. Alive.
Victor was a broad, steady wall at her back, his slow breathing a low rhythm she felt more than heard. In front of her, Voss lay half-curled, one heavy arm across her waist, as if to keep her from wandering off. His hand rested, warm and possessive even in sleep, on her stomach.
She didn't move at first.
She let herself exist there.
The vault was quiet in the way only dangerous places ever were, the kind of silence that meant guards were alert, and walls were holding. The world outside was still broken. Monsters still prowled. People still starved.
But here, between them, she was held.
Her tail flicked once, slow and content, before reality nudged her fully awake. The cubs. Responsibility hit her sharply. She shifted carefully, easing Voss's heavy arm from her waist inch by inch. He grumbled, pulling her closer before relaxing. Behind her, Victor's wing twitched, as if tracking her movements even while unconscious.
She slipped free.
Felicity gathered what she could quietly. A small stuffed mouse she'd cleaned the night before, its stitching frayed but intact. Dried fish strips wrapped in wax paper. A little jingling ball she'd unearthed from a supply crate and fixed so it actually chimed.
She balanced everything against her chest and climbed the stairs, heart thudding harder with each step.
The broom closet door creaked when she nudged it open.
Inside, the cubs were huddled together in the dark, tails entwined, eyes bright and too aware for bodies that small.
"I brought you something," she whispered.
The silver-furred girl's ears snapped upright instantly. Her nose twitched, and she scrambled forward with a quiet gasp.
"Felly!" she squealed, throwing herself against Felicity's legs. "You came back!"
The boy stayed back at first, cautious, eyes flicking to the doorway. "We thought maybe the bad ones got you," he said, trying to sound brave and failing.
"They didn't," Felicity murmured, crouching. She handed them the water. They drank eagerly, passing it back and forth, drops spilling down their chins. When they finished, the boy looked up, eyes far too old for his face.
"You smell scared," he said seriously. "But you still come back."
Her throat tightened.
"I am scared," she admitted softly. "All the time. But I'll always come back for you. Always."
That seemed to satisfy him. He nodded solemnly and tucked the bottle into their little pile of treasures, as if it were something precious.
The girl hugged her again, fierce and sudden. "Don't go, Mummy."
The word hit like a physical blow.
Felicity froze, then gently wrapped her arms around the cub. "I'll be back soon," she promised, her voice steady as her heart cracked and stitched itself back together. Rising, she felt the girl press something into her hand.
A chipped marble, faintly glowing.
"For protection," she whispered.
Felicity closed her fingers around it and nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak.
When she shut the door behind her, she leaned against it for a long moment, blinking hard until the sting passed.
She wasn't alone when she turned.
Voss stood at the end of the hall, his bare feet silent on the stone floor. He said nothing—just opened his arms, making the invitation clear and waiting for her to come to him.
She walked into him.
His hold was immediate and solid. He placed one hand between her shoulder blades, his other cupped gently behind her head. Resting his chin lightly on her hair, he breathed in, pausing as if to reassure himself she was truly there.
"You okay?" he rumbled.
She nodded against his chest. "They're so little."
"I know," he said. "You did well."
That's simple. That's final.
When they returned to the vault, Victor was awake, already armoured, blade resting across his knees. His eyes lifted the instant Felicity entered, tension easing visibly from his shoulders.
He crossed the room in three strides and touched her shoulder, then her cheek, quick and checking. "You're alright."
She smiled up at him. "I didn't wake you."
"You did," he said calmly. "You just didn't know it."
Four days passed like that.
Motion. Clearing. Guard rotations. Teaching the cubs how to stay quiet, to signal danger. Felicity moved through it all like a small sun, never loud, never demanding, just… there. Offering water. Checking wounds. Remembering names.
Too friendly, really.
Victor noticed how she listened when survivors spoke. The way she knelt was at eye level. The way she smiled with kindness was something she could rationalise endlessly.
One night, as they ate, she said quietly, "I was an orphan."
Victor glanced up.
"I was always hiding, and the foster carer didn't really like me", she continued, almost apologetic. "They weren't cruel. Just busy. I learned early not to take up space."
Voss's jaw tightened.
"So when people need me," she added, shy but earnest, "I like to help."
Neither man said anything.
Victor reached for her hand under the table and held it.
The next encounter came at dusk.
Scouts appeared at the edge of the street near dusk.
Rat beasts mostly. Watching. Counting numbers.
Victor stepped forward immediately, presence dropping like a wall. "Leave."
Voss moved.
He didn't strike—just stepped closer to Felicity, hand settling at her lower back, thumb pressing lightly like a brand.
Later, when the adrenaline burned off, Felicity realised she was shaking.
Victor noticed. Of course he did.
He guided her to the stairwell, away from eyes, placing one hand at her elbow and bracing the other on the wall beside her. His body blocked the narrow space completely, keeping her close against the wall.
"You did well," he said quietly.
She nodded, swallowing. "I wasn't scared."
"I know," he said. "You should have been."
She frowned slightly. "Oh."
His mouth twitched. Voss appeared a moment later, filling the narrow stairwell behind her. He didn't press in, just stood nearby, watchful. Felicity relaxed back, letting her weight rest against his chest in silent trust.t.
Both men stilled. Voss's arms circled her carefully, slow enough for her to stop him if she wanted. She let him, remaining still and accepting his comfort.t.
Victor exhaled softly, a sound like relief.
"You're allowed to need us," Victor said.
She nodded, cheeks warm. "I do."
Later that night, as the vault settled, Felicity curled between them again, smaller than either, safer than she'd ever been.
Voss draped an arm over her waist. Victor's wing shielded her back.
She slept smiling.
And Snow Team, watching from a distance, quietly adjusted the perimeter.
Because the fox wasn't just precious.
She was theirs to protect.
The confrontation did not end with words.
It never did.
The survivors dispersed at first, muttering and glaring. Resentment didn't evaporate just because Victor had named the consequence out loud. It fermented. Quiet, mean, dangerous—the kind of danger that only people who believed they were owed something could manage.
Felicity felt it almost immediately.
She noticed eyes tracking her at the stairwell. Conversations stopped half a breath too late. Hands lingered on crates while she restocked, fingers brushing her sleeve as if by accident.
She tried to be smaller about it.
She tried to be smaller. Tried to smile, to soften things, to help where she could within Victor's rules. When a woman with a torn palm approached hesitantly, Felicity healed it anyway—quickly—then retreated upstairs, heart thudding too fast.
"She's too nice," Rose muttered when Felicity was out of earshot.
Voss agreed silently.
Victor said nothing, which was worse.
The breaking point came that night.
Tommy, bless his heart and whatever damage lived inside it, tripped the alarm.
Again.
Not the perimeter alarm. The internal one.
Metal screamed. Water surged. A heavy clang echoed through the bank like a gunshot. Snow Team rose instantly, weapons forming in flashes of magic and intent.
Victor was already moving when the shouting started.
They found them in the lower vault corridor. Three beastmen stood in the corridor. One wore Felicity's satchel, its torn strap hanging off his shoulder. He loomed close, his meaty hand half-raised as if to grab her wrist.t.
"She said no," Rose snarled, vines already coiling at her feet.
The rat laughed, thin and sharp. "She heals. We just needed to borrow her."
Felicity froze.
Borrow.
Something ugly twisted in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak. To explain. To de-escalate, like she always did.
Victor didn't let her.
He stepped forward, and the room seemed to contract around him.
"That was your warning," he said calmly.
The boar scoffed. "You can't just.."
Victor hit him.
Not with magic. Not with fire or ice.
With his hand.
The impact drove the boar into the wall hard enough to crack the tile. He slid down bonelessly, unconscious before he hit the floor.
The corridor went silent.
The men bolted.
They didn't make it far.
Voss moved like a shadow tearing itself free from the wall. One disappeared with a sound like air being punched out of existence. The other made it three steps before Rose's vines snapped around his ankles and yanked him upside down.
He screamed.
Tommy panicked.
And flooded the corridor.
Water roared down the hall, slamming the rat into the ceiling hard enough to knock him out cold. Tommy stared at his hands. "I—I helped?"
"Yes," Kai said dryly. "You helped."
The survivors gathered fast after that.
Shouting. Accusations. Fear curdling into outrage.
Victor stood at the centre of it, Felicity behind him, Voss and Rose flanking like sentinels.
"This arrangement is abusive," the wolfhound matron shouted. "You don't get to play gods!"
Victor didn't raise his voice. "You broke the rules."
"You're hoarding resources!"
"You tried to take my healer," Victor said flatly.
Felicity flinched at the word.
Not because it was wrong.
Because she didn't want to be only that.
He felt it.
Victor reached back without looking, his hand closing around hers, grounding and firm.
"She is not a service," he continued. "She is not communal property. She is not leveraging. And she is not staying anywhere, she isn't safe."
The matron sneered. "And what? You'll kill us all?"
Victor's eyes were cold. "No."
Voss stepped forward.
"You're leaving," he said simply.
The room erupted.
They didn't argue long.
Snow Team escorted them out at dawn.
No executions. No theatrics.
Just doors opening and closing.
The survivors were given food for two days. Water. Directions.
And nothing else.
Felicity watched them go from the balcony, arms wrapped around herself, tail curled tight.
"I wanted to help them," she whispered.
Victor came up behind her, careful, close but not crowding. "You did," he said. "Until they made it unsafe."
Voss leaned against the railing beside them. "Kindness isn't weakness," he added. "But it does attract idiots."
She snorted softly despite herself.
By midday, the decision was made.
The bank was no longer viable.
Too many eyes. Too much resentment. Too much risk.
Sarge rolled up the maps. Kai marked routes. Rose burned what couldn't be taken.
Felicity packed quietly.
Victor found her at the vault door, tying off her bag with clumsy fingers.
"We're heading east," he said. "Coast settlement. Tidehaven."
Her ears perked. "The one with water power?"
He nodded.
She smiled. Small. Hopeful. "Okay."
Snow Team moved out before sunset.
The bank stood empty behind them.
They took the cubs as well.