Richard’s eyes narrowed. "I’m not telling you anything."
"Fair enough," Tommy shrugged. "I’ll tell you sothing about instead. I once ate an entire jar of pickles during a stakeout because I was bored. Got caught because the crunching was too loud."
"What’s your point?" Richard asked, frustration evident in his voice.
"My point is," Tommy said, leaning in so close their foreheads almost touched, "that everyone has weaknesses. Mine is pickles and commitnt issues. Yours is... what? Pride? Duty? The fact that you keep looking at Felicity like she’s a puzzle you can’t solve?"
Richard’s jaw clenched. "I’m not looking at her at all."
"Liar," Tommy sang. "You’ve glanced at her seven tis in the last three minutes. I’ve been counting."
Felicity felt her cheeks warm under Richard’s sudden, intense gaze. There was sothing calculating in his expression that made her uneasy.
"I’m just assessing the threat level," Richard said coldly.
Tommy snorted. "Sure you are. And I’m just here for the company." He leaned back, stretching his arms. "You know what? I think we’re making progress. Next question: if you could have any superpower, what would it be?"
"This is absurd," Richard muttered.
"I’ll go again," Tommy continued cheerfully. "I’d want to be invisible. Not for any noble reasons, I just think it would be hilarious to sneak up on people. Especially during awkward monts." He grinned at Richard. "Like right now, I could be invisible and you’d have no idea I was watching you stare at Felicity."
Richard’s patience visibly snapped. "I am not..."
"Eight tis," Tommy interrupted, holding up fingers. "That’s eight tis now."
Felicity stepped forward, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Why are you so interested in , Richard? I’m not biologically related to those cubs you called ’strays.’ They’re my family by choice, not blood."
Richard’s eyes t hers directly for the first ti, and sothing flickered in them that wasn’t coldness. "That’s exactly why you’re dangerous," he said, his voice rougher than before. "Taking in cubs that aren’t yours, it doesn’t make sense."
A dangerous rumble ca from Lucan’s chest. Victor nearly beheaded him.
Tommy, however, burst into laughter.
"Unnatural," he repeated, wheezing. "That’s your problem with her? Buddy." He wiped his eyes. "I once saw her share her last granola bar with a raccoon. A regular raccoon. Not even a beastman. You’re crazy."
The clearing fell silent. Even Marx had stopped poking at the fire to listen.
Tommy cleared his throat, suddenly serious. "I’ve been in this world a long ti, Richard. I’ve seen people do terrible things for power, for survival, for love. But what does Felicity have with us? That’s real. And it terrifies you because you can’t control it."
Richard looked genuinely taken aback by Tommy’s sudden sincerity. "You don’t know anything about ."
"I know enough," Tommy said quietly.
Ivan’s hand pressed flat between Lucan’s shoulder blades, firm, deliberate, the kind of tap that carried no room for negotiation.
"My turn, Panther."
Three words. Low and rough like gravel dragged through honey. Felicity barely registered the shift before thick arms hooked beneath her knees and behind her back, and the world tilted.
She squeaked. Actually squeaked. Her hands flew to Ivan’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she might fall, which was absurd because his grip could probably hold three of her without strain.
Her face buried itself against his chest before she consciously decided to hide. The heat of him bled through the thin material, and beneath her palms, the steady drum of his heartbeat thudded like sothing ancient and unshakeable.
"You..." She swallowed, nose pressed to the hollow of his collarbone where cedar and black tea and sothing sharp like crushed mint clung to his skin. Her fox senses sharpened involuntarily, pulling every thread of that combination deeper. "You surprised , Ivan."
Her fingers curled tighter.
"Why do you sll so good?" The question tumbled out muffled against his chest, half accusation, half genuine bewildernt. Because it wasn’t fair. Nobody built like a siege weapon should sll like a forest after rain had washed it clean.
Ivan’s chest expanded beneath her cheek, a slow, controlled inhale. His thumb shifted against the back of her knee, a single stroke so small it might have been accidental if she didn’t know him better.
"Bathed." One word, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward when she peeked up at him, and the faintest colour sat high on the bridge of his scarred nose.
"You bathed," she repeated, incredulous. "That’s your answer? You bathed?"
"Thoroughly."
Her tail puffed behind her traitorous thing, and she shoved her face back against his chest because looking at him while he held her like she weighed nothing was doing catastrophic things to her composure. His arms tightened fractionally. Not enough to crush. Enough to communicate.
"Ivan."
"Mm."
"You can’t just grab people."
"Didn’t grab people." His chin dipped, and she felt the brush of his jaw against the tip of her ear, barely there, almost imagined. "Grabbed you."
The distinction shouldn’t have mattered. It absolutely shouldn’t have turned her stomach into a knot of fluttering heat. Her claws pricked lightly through his shirt, and she felt the muscle beneath flex in response.
"That’s worse," she mumbled.
"Is it?" Not a question. The rumble of it vibrated through his ribs and into hers.
From sowhere behind them, Voss’s dry tone cut through: "Ivan, if you keep looking at her like that, the Dimitiri might eat you."
Ivan didn’t turn or acknowledge. His thumb swept that sa devastating arc against the back of her knee again, and Felicity’s toes curled inside her boots.
Ivan’s grip shifted, his body tensing beneath her. Before Felicity could ask what was happening, the air around them shimred with that familiar ripple of energy. Her stomach dropped as Ivan’s human form began to transform. His muscles expanded, bones cracking and reshaping with a sound that still made her wince despite having witnessed it countless tis.
Within monts, the massive white lion stood where Ivan had been. His fur was the colour of fresh snow, his mane a magnificent crown around a face that still held those piercing amber eyes. He lowered himself to the ground, turning his head to look at her expectantly.
"You want to ride?" Felicity asked, her voice catching slightly.
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