The building they chose was half-standing and mercifully quiet. Concrete bones, shattered windows, a roof that still held.
Victor cleared it room by room while Voss mapped exits and sightlines, old habits settling them into something almost domestic despite the ruin.
Fires were kept low. No lights visible from outside. Snow Team folded in around Felicity like the night itself had learned her shape.
Damien stayed with the others. He wanted not to. Every instinct pulled him toward her. Toward the center of that gravity well where warmth and safety lived. But he understood boundaries, understood that some things were earned slowly or not at all. So he took a post by a broken stairwell, back to the wall, eyes outward, pretending the distance didn't ache.
Victor noticed. He filed it away. Felicity sat on a folded blanket,
Luna and Frost finally asleep against her sides, their breathing soft and even.
When Victor touched her shoulder, she looked up instantly, eyes bright and fragile.
"Come," he said quietly.
He led her to a corner room with a half-wall still standing, enough privacy to feel intentional. The moment they were alone, the dam broke.
Victor pulled her into his arms and she shattered. She cried like she'd been holding it in since the warehouse, since Tidehaven, since the moment she'd been taken.
Her fists clenched in his jacket. His chin rested against her hair, shoulders trembling despite his strength.
"I'm sorry," he murmured again and again. "I failed you. I should never have left. I should have-"
She shook her head fiercely. "You came back. You burned the world. You found me."
That undid him. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her temples. Soft, reverent, like each one was an apology and a promise bound together. When she finally stilled, he held her longer than necessary, just breathing her in like proof.
When Victor let her go, Voss was waiting.
He didn't touch her right away. He looked at her like he needed to understand something with his eyes before his hands were allowed to follow. Then he stepped forward and wrapped her up, arms firm and anchoring, forehead pressed to hers.
"You don't get to disappear like that," he said quietly, voice breaking on the edges. "I calculated every outcome. None of them included losing you."
She laughed weakly through tears. "I'm sorry." He kissed her once, gentle and grounding, like punctuation at the end of a sentence he'd been holding too long. Then another, to her brow.
"We're here," he said. "We're not going anywhere."
They fell asleep together later, the three of them curled on shared blankets in the quiet room. Felicity between them, Victor's arm around her waist, Voss's hand resting warm and steady at her back. No tension. No hunger. Just presence.
Outside, Damien watched the doorway for threats that never came, the ache in his chest softened by the knowledge that she was safe, even if not with him. The night settled in layers. Wind threaded through broken windows. Ash drifted like tired snow. The building creaked softly, old bones adjusting to the weight of survivors. Damien kept watch.
Not because anyone told him to. Because standing still felt wrong when she was sleeping somewhere behind him, wrapped in other people's arms, safe in a way he had never known how to give. He leaned against a cracked pillar near the stairwell, eyes scanning shadows, senses stretched thin. The Snow team moved around him cautiously at first. Not hostile. Not welcoming. Assessing.
Sarge was the first to approach, boots heavy, posture loose in a way that meant violence sat comfortably under the skin. He stopped a few steps away.
"You didn't run," Sarge said.
Damien shrugged. "Didn't feel right."
"Hm."
Ash came next, arms folded, gaze sharp and curious rather than threatening. "You stayed even when Victor didn't kill you."
Damien huffed quietly. "Low bar."
That earned a snort from somewhere behind him.
Tommy, of course, didn't ease in.
He walked straight up, stared at Damien for a second, then blurted, "So if you're her mate why aren't you sleeping with her?"
The silence that followed was immediate and lethal.
Rose smacked Tommy upside the head hard enough to make his helmet ring. "Are you stupid on purpose?"
"Ow! What the hell"
"They're not mated," Rose snapped, eyes flashing.
"Yet." Tommy blinked. Processed that for half a second.
"Oh," he said slowly, then brightened. "Ohhh. You're like us!"
Damien frowned. "I don't know how to feel about that."
Ash sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "No," he said flatly. "He's further than us. Sadly."
Tommy looked between them. "Wait. How is that sad?"
Rose crossed her arms, smirking. "Because it means he got there without being an idiot."
Damien let out a quiet laugh before he could stop himself. It surprised him. Rose noticed.
She tilted her head, eyes sharp but no longer hostile. "Careful," she said. "You start bantering with us and we'll decide you're family."
"That a threat?" Damien asked.
Tommy grinned. "Absolutely." Rose jabbed a finger into Tommy's chest.
"And you," she added, "are banned from asking questions about anyone's mating status for the rest of the week." Tommy opened his mouth. She raised her fist.
He closed it again.
Damien leaned back against the pillar, tension easing just a fraction.
For the first time since the warehouse, the weight in his chest shifted from fear to something… warmer. From inside the room, a soft sound carried. Felicity shifting in her sleep. A murmur. Victor's low voice answering without waking.
Damien glanced toward the doorway, then deliberately looked away. Rose followed his gaze, expression softening despite herself. "She's worth it," she said quietly.
Damien nodded. "Yeah." The watch settled back into place, no longer lonely.
And somewhere in the ruins, the Snow team accepted something new without ceremony.
He wasn't her mate. Not yet. But he wasn't nothing either.
The watch deepened as the hours stretched.
Ash took a seat on an overturned crate near Damien, methodically cleaning a blade that didn't look like it needed it. The scrape of cloth against metal filled the quiet in a steady rhythm.
"So," Ash said without looking up, "you're not stupid."
Damien snorted softly. "Strong opening."
"It's a compliment," Ash replied dryly. "You'd be surprised how rare it is."
Sarge circled the perimeter once more before settling on the stairs, back to the wall, rifle resting across his knees. "You held your ground back there," he said to Damien. "Could've bolted when the warehouse went."
"I considered it," Damien admitted. "Decided I didn't like who I'd be after."
That earned a low grunt of approval. Tommy, still nursing the side of his head, flopped down nearby. "So," he said more carefully this time, "what are you then?"
Damien considered the question longer than necessary. "Temporary," he said finally. "Hopefully useful. Definitely inconvenient."
Rose huffed a laugh. "Yeah, that tracks." There was a pause. The kind that didn't itch.
"You hurt her," Rose said suddenly, eyes sharp again, "and I will grow something inside your lungs."
Damien didn't bristle. Didn't posture. "Fair."
Tommy tilted his head. "That didn't scare you?"
Damien glanced at Rose's vines, still faintly twitching even at rest. "It did. I just respect it."
Rose's mouth twitched despite herself.
From the far room, a soft shift of blankets. Felicity murmured something unintelligible, voice warm and drowsy. Damien's shoulders eased instinctively, even though he forced himself not to move.
Ash noticed.
"You're doing better than most," he said quietly.
"At what?"
"At not making this about you." Damien swallowed.
"I want to be near her," he admitted. "But she doesn't need another person pulling."
Sarge nodded once. "Smart."
Tommy grinned. "Don't get used to the praise. We're still weird about you."
Damien smiled faintly. "I'd be disappointed otherwise."
The building creaked as wind pushed through broken glass. Somewhere outside, something distant howled and then went silent. Inside, the watch held. Not hostile. Not welcoming. But steady. And for the first time, Damien realized something that settled deeper than fear or desire.
Even if he never became more than this, even if Felicity chose a future that didn't include him, standing here mattered. Protecting what she loved mattered.
Rose leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded, exhaustion finally catching her. "If you betray us," she muttered, "I'll know."
Damien glanced toward the room where Felicity slept, safe and warm between two men who loved her enough to burn cities.
"I won't," he said simply.
The night accepted that answer. And Snow Team kept watch together, the circle just a little wider than it had been before.