Felicity pressed her face harder into Voss’s fur and breathed. Her hands were shaking. She could feel the magic building under her skin, the instinct to buff, to stun, and to protect, but Voss’s voice rumbled through his chest and into her bones.
"Don’t," he said quietly. "Save it, we’ve got this, there’s only 6 of them."
She saved it, the rest of the snow team eager for a fight descended upon the 6 zombies and wiped them out in under 1 minute, happy to show off in any way to the rest of the men or to themselves, or to Felicity, who really wasn’t watching.
They reached the settlement by the third hour, an hour quicker than expected.
The doctor was waiting for them in a converted examination room on the second floor, her equipment rudimentary but functional: a stethoscope, a blood pressure cuff, a portable ultrasound machine that looked like it had been
salvaged from a hospital and jury-rigged with a battery pack. The woman herself was efficient, her hair pulled back in a tight bun.
"Lie back for me, dear."
Felicity lay back. The paper crinkled under her. She could hear her men that didn’t fit in the room shifting in the hallway, four of them crammed into a space meant for one, their scents bleeding through the thin walls, pine and smoke and something sharp that was all Lucan. Her ears twitched toward the door. Her tail curled tight against the small of her back.
The doctor pressed the transducer into the gel on her belly, and Felicity’s breath caught.
"There," the woman said. She tapped the screen. "The four cubs are looking very strong and healthy, the boys and girls are looking great, I still can’t really tell their beast forms yet though I’m pretty sure, nah never mind, can’t be 100% certain, better leave it as a surprise." She winked at Felicity, and her other 3 husbands in the room stared at her, then back at their wife.
Felicity stared at the grainy image. Four little shapes, curled into each other, her throat closed. She pressed her knuckles to her mouth.
"All of them look strong," the doctor continued, moving the wand with practiced ease. "Heartbeats are good. Growth is on track. I’d say you’ve got about a month left, give or take. The strain of carrying multiples is considerable, but you’re handling it well. Your body knows what it’s doing, and it’s great that you’re obviously very sexually active," the doctor gestured to her hickies.
Felcity blushed and looked away. "Wait, a month?" Felicity whispered.
"Keep up the good work, it’s doing wonders for your cubs, keeps them nice and strong, and for some reason I’ve noticed it speeds up the incubation period." The doctor gave Felicity’s husband a thumbs-up.
The doctor wiped the gel off her belly with a rough towel. "You’re healthy, dear. Truly. But you should rest. Eat. Let your husbands carry the weight for a while."
The door opened before Felicity could respond. Voss filled the frame first, his wolf ears swivelled forward, his scarred jaw tight. Behind him, she caught the molten flash of Lucan’s eyes, Dimitri’s broad shoulders crowding the gap, and then Victor’s wings brushing the ceiling as he leaned in.
The doctor gave them all a flat look. "She’s fine, the four cubs are growing well, in one month. Now get out of my doorway."
Felicity sat up slowly, pulling her shirt down. The room tilted for a moment, not with dizziness, just the sheer weight of it settling into her bones. One month. Her hands drifted to her belly, and she pressed, and she felt the flutter of movement beneath her palm, and something cracked open behind her ribs.
Voss crossed the room in two strides and gathered her up against his chest. His heartbeat was steady against her ear. Too steady. The kind of steady that meant he was already calculating, already building contingencies in that quiet, ruthless mind of his.
"One Month," he said.
"One month," she confirmed.
His arms tightened, and then he was carrying her out of the room, through the hallway, past the men who parted for him like water. She caught Lucan’s expression, composed and precise, but his fingers were curled into his palms, and the space around him was doing that thing, that fold-and-stutter thing that happened when she was near. Dimitri’s red eyes had gone burnished red, his jaw working, and he opened his mouth-
"I’ll carry her," Lucan said.
"I’ve got her," Voss said, not breaking stride.
"She’s mine too..."
"She’s ours," Voss corrected, and something in his tone made Lucan’s mouth snap shut. "And I’m carrying her. We’ll rotate on the way back if she wants. But right now I’m carrying her."
Felicity buried her face in his neck. Her tail uncurled, swaying once, twice, against his arm. She didn’t argue. She couldn’t.
They left the settlement at a trot. Voss shifted beneath her, his fur thickening, his body expanding into the massive black wolf that could carry her for hours without strain. Around them, the others shifted too Lucan’s sleek panther form, materializing from a fold of space, Dimitri’s beastman form shaking out his shoulders, Victor’s wings spreading wide as he took to the air to scout.
The journey was three hours. Felicity dozed against Voss’s warmth, her belly pressed to the heat of him, her fingers buried in his fur. She surfaced once to Lucan’s voice, low and precise even in beast form.
"My turn."
Voss didn’t slow. "Half hour."
"You said that an hour ago."
"I’m aware of what I said."
Felicity giggled into his fur. It came out watery and strange. She felt Lucan’s molten gaze on the back of her neck, and her tail curled despite herself.
By the third hour, Dimitri had dropped back to pace alongside them, his red eyes fixed on her with that particular intensity that meant he was barely containing himself. "Bug. Let me carry you. Just for a bit."
"I’m fine," she murmured.
"You’re not fine, you’re-"