Victor carried Felicity all the way back without slowing once.
The path from the yard to the apartment had never felt so narrow. Gravel shifted under boots behind them in a loose uneven rhythm as Snow Team followed at a distance that was not respectful enough to be formal and not close enough to be comforting. Lucan walked behind Victor in silence, cleaned by her light but not untouched by what had happened. His clothes still bore dirt and blood. His face did not. That somehow made him harder to look at.
He should have looked broken.
He did not.
That unsettled everyone more than blood would have.
Victor never looked back to check whether Lucan was following. He had said come, and that had been enough. The expectation of obedience sat around him as naturally as breath.
