Voss's attention slid back to Rose, again and again. Not the way the others looked. Not hunger.
Instinct.
The wolf in him bristled. Something about her set his nerves on edge, made his hackles rise for reasons he couldn't name. Rose stood loose, relaxed, her tail still at her side. Too still. Predators noticed restraint like that.
One of the men shifted. Another scratched at his neck, ears flattening.
"She doesn't smell right," someone muttered.
Voss's mouth tightened. Rose carried no fear scent. No submission. Just something sharp beneath it all, like steel wrapped in velvet.
"You're not prey," he said, studying her.
Rose met his gaze and smiled faintly. "Neither are you."
A ripple passed through Snow Team. Unease. A laugh that came too fast. One man took a step back without realizing he'd moved.
Rhys frowned. "That one wouldn't last in a cage." "No," Voss agreed quietly. "She'd burn the place down first." That was what unsettled them. "She doesn't smell right," someone muttered. The words carried just far enough. Rose heard them. She didn't bristle. Didn't bare her teeth. Didn't even look offended.
She glanced down at her hands instead, flexing her fingers once as if checking something only she could feel. Her tail remained still at her side, a deliberate calm that prickled along Snow Team's nerves.
"Good," she said.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't meant for them.
But it landed anyway. Voss frowned. The wolf in him shifted, uneasy. Predators knew fear. They knew submission. They even knew defiance. They didn't know indifference.
Rose lifted her gaze then, meeting his eyes at last. There was no challenge there. No threat.
Just certainty. "I don't smell like prey," she continued. "Or like you." A beat passed.
Somewhere behind her, metal creaked. A man swallowed. Another shifted his weight without realizing it. Rose's mouth curved, not into a smile, but something close. Something private. "And I don't need you to understand me."
She turned away, attention already elsewhere, as if Snow Team had ceased to exist. That was what unsettled them most.
Not that she could be dangerous.
That she didn't care if they believed it.
Voss turned back to Victor, his expression shifted, no longer amused, but deliberate.
You said she's yours," he said. "Not just someone to protect. Yours." Victor didn't hesitate. His voice was low and absolute.
"She's my wife."
That declaration landed. Snow Team visibly straightened, shoulders squared, eyes refocusing. This was no longer casual. It was hierarchy. Voss nodded slowly. "First husband, then." Victor inclined his head once. The movement was smooth, practiced, yet something knotted deep in his chest. "That carries weight," Voss continued. "You speak for her in disputes. You answer for her safety. Any man who courts her does so knowing he answers to you first."
Victor met his gaze, jaw set. He could do that. Fight for her. Bleed for her. Stand between her and danger until he had nothing left. That was easy. Possession was not. Order was. "And," Rhys added, glancing at Felicity with newfound respect, "it means challenges."
Voss's eyes sharpened. "Some will honor the bond. Some will test it. Others will try to break you to see if the marriage holds." Felicity felt it like a door slamming shut behind her. Victor's claim didn't cage her. It anchored her. Voss stepped closer, voice dropping. "She'll take other husbands. That's how it works now."
Victor's breath caught for a heartbeat, unseen by anyone. A dark, instinctive surge flared. Another man's hands on her. Another voice in her ear. Another body between her and the world he'd vowed to hold back. His fingers twitched at his side before he willed them still.
"I know," he said, the words tasting like iron. "But every man who comes after," Voss went on, "will measure himself against you first. Your strength. Your control. Your ability to keep her alive." Victor's eyes flicked toward where Finch had gone, a possessive spark igniting in his chest before he crushed it down.
"If you fall," Voss said, "the order collapses. And order is the only thing keeping women like her alive." Victor shifted subtly, placing himself between Felicity and the others, not to hide her, but to declare his position. His voice was steady, though something inside him strained.
"Then I won't fall."
Silence followed. Not tension. Acceptance.
Felicity exhaled slowly. Victor's presence at her back felt solid, familiar, earned. Not a leash, but a foundation. Snow Team saw it too. She wasn't unclaimed. She was established.
And Victor stood there, knowing that loving her meant not just keeping her safe from the world, but surviving what sharing her would do to him.
Felicity ducked her head and felt her tail spike with embarrassment. But she couldn't help the rush of pride that followed: She mattered, she was valuable, maybe even valuable enough to survive. Victor hummed in agreement. "Only the strongest males will have the privilege of sharing her with me" he growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "And even then, I might decide to eliminate them all anyway."
Felicity's eyelids fluttered. "Sharing?" The word hung in the air between them as her gaze darted from Voss to Victor, her brow furrowing with incomprehension. Voss opened his mouth to respond, but Victor stepped forward, his voice low and grave. "Little Fel, I wish I could keep you safe all by myself, but this new world..." He shook his head, eyes darkening. "It's become far too dangerous for just one protector."
Victor patted felicity head tenderly.
Rose, sensing something off, stepped between them, one hand on her hip. "I'm here too, by the way. And if you so much as look at her sideways, I'll cut out your tongue."
A deep laugh erupted from Voss as he gave Silver a friendly thump on the shoulder. "This one's a spitfire." Victor allowed himself the faintest smile. "That's why she's with us," he said, and clapped Voss on the back so hard the man actually stumbled.
Finch's chest swelled with pride. Though he and Rose hadn't completed the mating ritual, his scent marked her as spoken for in the eyes of the other beastmen.