Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 6: Snow Team

The road through the city was hell.

Glass ground under their boots. Burned out cars sagged into each other like exhausted animals. The smell was wrong. Not just smoke. Not just rot.

Something metallic.

Something new.

They moved single file through side streets strangled by ferns and creeping vines already reclaiming pavement. The apocalypse had barely begun, and nature was already opportunistic.

Rose led, blade out. Chin high. Tail low and steady.

Felicity followed close enough to brush her shoulder if she reached out.

Victor and Finch took the rear.

Victor did not speak.

He watched everything.

Above them, a hawk spiraled in lazy loops against a pale sky. Too steady. Too consistent. It wasn’t hunting rats.

It was tracking movement.

Felicity felt it.

Always at the edge of vision.

Always watching.

A few blocks from the playground, the city shifted, silence tightened.

Felicity’s ears flicked back.

Boots, not shuffling, tiles and rocks scraping under careful weight.

Victor’s hand came up instantly. Two fingers at his lips.

They melted into shadow beneath the overhang of a strip mall. Windows shattered. Signage hanging loose. The smell of stale sugar drifted from what had once been a bakery.

Rose crouched at the broken glass "There," she whispered.

Across the street, movement.

They waited.

Felicity’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife.

Victor stepped in behind her not touching, hovering, protecting.

Close enough that she could feel his body heat through the leather jacket.

His pulse was slow.

Not nervous.

Anticipating.

That steadiness calmed her more than it should have.

Then the group stepped fully into view.

Eight.

No.

Ten.

All beastmen.

Antlers sawed short and rough. Tusks protruding through cracked lips. Horns spiraling tight to skulls. Patchwork pelts stitched into jackets. Claws filed sharp. Tails twitching with suppressed energy.

They did not look confused, they did not look afraid, they looked organised.

Two broke off immediately, scaling an awning with rifles slung over their shoulders. The rest spread without speaking, taking corners, covering doors, controlling angles.

They weren’t wandering they were executing a sweep.

Felicity’s stomach dropped.

They had been found, if Victor hadn’t heard them first..

If Victor hadn’t been Victor..

They would already be dead.

The leader stepped forward a wolf.

No mistaking it.

Crooked ears. Thick neck. Jaw like a slab of stone. An old ANZAC vest hung from his shoulders, medals clinking softly as he walked.

His eyes were bright too bright, Mean.

He grinned at Victor.

"Come out, Silver," he called lazily. "We brought Maccas."

Victor didn’t hesitate.

He stepped into the light wings folded tight. Shoulders loose. Hands empty but ready.

"You’re early," he replied.

No smile.

The wolf barked a laugh and approached, boots crunching over glass.

But his eyes didn’t stay on Victor.

They slid.

Past him.

To Felicity.

The others followed suit. Quick glances at first, then longer ones.

Open.

Blatant.

Counting her.

Measuring.

Evaluating.

A rangy man with shaved antlers stared too long.

Victor moved without looking like he moved.

Just enough.

His body shifted half a step.

Blocked the line of sight.

The antlered man looked away immediately.

The wolf’s gaze snagged on Rose next, it lingered.

Not leering.

Assessing.

Like he was studying whether she would bite back, "Didn’t think you’d show up with women," the wolf said. "Figured we’d drag you out sooner or later."

Victor shrugged faintly.

"Sometimes things fall into your lap." As he spoke, he moved again.

This time deliberately.

He stepped fully in front of Felicity.

Not subtle, his shoulders cast her in shadow, a sound left his chest.

Low.

Not loud enough to echo.

But deep enough that the men closest stiffened.

It wasn’t a growl.

It was warning.

The message landed.

They pressed closer anyway, some of them couldn’t help it.

Their nostrils flared.

Eyes sharpening.

One of the smaller ones at the back muttered under his breath, "Fuck. They’re real."

Rose’s lip curled "What’s the problem?" she snapped. "Never seen a woman before?"

A man near the front let out a short laugh.

"Seen plenty," he said. "Haven’t seen many still breathing."

Another added, "Not since the first wave."

The wolf lifted a hand, silencing them.

He inhaled slowly.

Deep.

His eyes slid back to Felicity "You can smell it," he said quietly. "Can’t you?"

Murmurs of agreement, Felicity felt Victor’s body change in front of her.

Subtle.

His spine straightened.

Wings twitched once.

His hand reached back without looking and wrapped around her wrist.

Firm.

Possessive.

Claiming.

The wolf’s gaze dropped to that grip.

"So," he said. "That little fox yours?"

Victor’s answer was immediate.

"She’s mine."

Not raised.

Final.

The wolf studied him for a long moment.

Then nodded once.

Respect.

Or acknowledgement of a line drawn.

"She smells like warmth," the wolf said, voice lower now. "Like something that hasn’t been burned out yet."

His eyes flicked to the others "You’ve all seen it."

The murmurs turned darker.

"Most of the women we found didn’t make it past the first few hours."

"Or they changed wrong."

"Or they didn’t change at all."

The wolf looked back at Felicity.

"We’ve swept four blocks. Two shopping centers. A train station."

He held up three fingers "Three living women."

A pause "Do the math."

Not one to a hundred.

Not a statistic.

Just what they had seen.

Felicity’s throat tightened.

"That doesn’t mean.."

"It means something’s skewed," the wolf cut in calmly. "Either they died faster. Or they were targeted first."

His eyes flicked to the men around him.

"Or they’re being hunted."

Silence.

Victor’s grip tightened around her wrist.

Too tight.

She felt it.

His breathing had changed.

Slower.

The wolf noticed.

"Relax, Silver," he said mildly. "We’re not here to steal what’s yours."

Victor’s wings shifted slightly outward.

Defensive.

"You can’t protect her alone," the wolf continued. "Not long term."

Victor’s eyes went cold.

"Watch me."

The air between them sharpened.

Finch suddenly stiffened.

Across the street, a hulking Kangaroo beastman had turned fully toward Rose.

Grey skin thick and plated. A metal nose stud glinting in the light.

Silver dust drifted lazily between his fingers like metallic pollen.

"Name’s Giddy," he said.

Rose didn’t flinch.

Giddy’s gaze dragged down her frame "You think those twigs back there can protect you?"

He jerked his chin toward Finch.

Finch didn’t smile.

Didn’t joke.

He stepped forward.

"Let’s see," he said simply. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Giddy grinned wide enough to show flattened molars.

They moved off without another word.

That left Felicity.

Victor.

Rose.

And the wolf.

The wolf began to circle slowly.

Up close, his scars were more obvious. Teeth marks along his shoulder. A knife wound that had healed crooked near his collarbone. A black tattoo disappearing behind one ear.

His scent was heavy.

Dominant.

"So what’s the plan, Silver?" he asked. "You hide her? Keep her under your wing?"

Victor did not move.

"Careful," he said softly.

The wolf smiled.

"I am being careful."

He leaned slightly, trying to see around Victor.

Victor moved instantly.

Not a step.

A shift.

Wings flared half open.

The rumble in his chest deepened into something that vibrated the broken glass at their feet.

Several of the men stiffened, Instinct recognising instinct.

"She’s not a resource," Victor said.

The wolf tilted his head,"Everything is a resource now."

"She isn’t."

The wolf’s eyes narrowed slightly "And if something happens to you?"

Victor’s gaze did not waver "Then it dies."

Not dramatic.

Not loud.

Just fact.

The wolf studied him again.

Then he nodded once.

"Good," he said. "Because that’s the only answer I respect."

He stepped back.

Not retreating.

Rebalancing.

"We’re pushing toward the river line," he said. "Setting up perimeter along the hospital grid. If you want to survive longer than a week, you’ll need alliances."

His gaze dropped to Felicity again.

"But you’re right about one thing."

Victor’s jaw tightened.

"She’s not something you share."

A pause.

"But you better understand something too."

The wolf’s voice lowered.

"Men are already noticing."

Around them, the other beastmen shifted.

Restless.

Hungry in ways that had nothing to do with food, Victor’s hand slid from Felicity’s wrist to her waist.

Pulled her closer.

Almost flush against his back.

His wings spread fully now.

Not to fly.

To block.

"You’re staring," he said quietly.

Several of the men looked away instantly.

The wolf smiled faintly.

"Good," he murmured. "You feel it too."

Victor’s pupils narrowed.

Feral.

Not soldier now.

Not strategist.

Animal.

The wolf raised both hands slowly.

"We’re not your enemy."

Victor did not lower his wings.

"Then don’t act like one."

The silence stretched.

Then from down the street, a shockwave cracked the air.

Giddy roared.

Finch answered with a laugh that didn’t sound entirely sane.

The moment snapped.

The wolf glanced toward the sound.

"Looks like introductions are over," he said.

His eyes returned to Felicity one last time.

"Keep her breathing," he said to Victor. "For all our sakes."

Victor did not respond, he was too busy watching every man within ten meters of her.

Counting threats.

Mapping exits.

His thumb pressed into the small of her back unconsciously.

Marking.

Claiming.

Warning.

And when the wolf finally turned away, taking his men with him to regroup with the fight unfolding down the block,

Victor did not relax.

He waited.

Until every last scent had faded.

Only then did his wings fold back in.

Slowly.

But his hand never left her waist.

Not once.