Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but a gruff laugh cut her off.

Sarge emerged from behind a stack of supply crates, his weathered face split in a knowing grin.

"Oh, yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw your unmated boy last night. Wandering around near the eastern perimeter like he’d lost his damn mind." His grin widened. "Trying to find the source of the smell, I’d reckon. Coming from Felicity and her mates."

Heat flooded Felicity’s face so fast she thought her skin might combust. The scent, of course. Her pregnancy had intensified it, made it richer, more potent, and they were having some hardcore sex. And Tim, with his tiger senses...

She buried her face in Exile’s chest, pressing her burning cheeks against the rough fabric of his shirt. His arm came around her immediately, a wall of muscle and warmth, and she heard the low, warning rumble that vibrated through his chest.

"He was after me," Alice snapped, her voice rising with frustration. "Not her. Tim was following my trail. He’s probably just lost, or he’s... tracking something else entirely."

Sarge just shrugged, still grinning. "Sure, kid. Whatever helps you sleep."

Felicity peeked out from Exile’s chest just enough to see Alice’s expression, a mix of worry and wounded pride and felt a pang of sympathy beneath her own embarrassment.

"We’ll help you look," Felicity offered, her voice muffled against Exile’s shirt. She felt his arm tighten around her in silent protest, and Exile’s hand squeezed her shoulder in warning, but she pressed on. "Once we’ve..."

"We will not," Exile said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You will stay here, where it’s safe. Lucan can organise a search party."

Lucan nodded, already moving toward the edge of camp. "I’ll round up a few of the Snow Team. We’ll find your tiger, Alice."

Alice opened her mouth to argue, to thank them, but Felicity couldn’t tell; Dimitri’s low growl cut through the air like a blade, aimed right at Alice to back off.

She sighed, letting her full weight sink against Exile’s broad chest, her fox ears tipping back in that boneless way they did when exhaustion finally won. "They’re just worried about me."

"We’re worried about you." Exile’s correction came swiftly, his tone clipped with the kind of authority that expected no argument. Those purple irises pinned her in place. "And we have every right to be."

Her tail curled around her own leg, a nervous habit she’d never managed to break.

She reached up toward Exile’s face. Her fingertips found the hard line of his jaw, tracing the tension knotted there like steel cables beneath skin. His teeth were clenched so tight she half-expected to hear them crack.

"I know," she murmured. Her thumb swept across the hinge of his jaw. "I know you do."

His head tipped, just barely, pressing harder into her palm. The movement was so small that anyone watching might have missed it. But Felicity didn’t miss it. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Her chest did a slow, heavy roll, the kind of feeling that made her want to crawl into his coat and stay there for a decade.

"You’re going to grind your teeth into dust," she said, letting her thumb drag to the corner of his mouth. "And then you’ll have to gum your food, and Voss will never let you live it down."

The faintest twitch at the edge of his lip. Not quite a smile. More like the ghost of one trying to claw its way out of a fortress.

"Let him try."

"He won’t try," Voss’s dry tone drifted from somewhere behind her, low and unbothered. "He’ll succeed effortlessly."

Exile’s gaze didn’t leave her face, but the tension beneath her fingertips shifted fractionally less murderous, fractionally more present. His hand came up and covered hers against his jaw, engulfing her smaller fingers entirely. The rough pads of his palm were calloused from years of gripping weapons, but the pressure was careful.

He turned his face into her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. Not a kiss. Not exactly more like a brand, the dry heat of his lips searing into the sensitive centre of her hand, lingering there with a possessiveness that made her stomach drop straight through the floor.

Her ears shot upright. Her tail puffed.

The ghost smile became something sharper. Something that made her want to squirm.

"Your tail," he said, low enough that it barely carried past the two of them.

"Shut up about my tail."

"Never."

Felicity kept her hand against Exile’s jaw. He kept his mouth against her palm. And the world, for one fragile breath, felt like it might hold together.

"You know," she said, her thumb tracing the sharp edge of his cheekbone, "for someone who insists on being terrifying, you’re remarkably easy to calm down."

His teeth grazed her palm.

"Don’t tell anyone."

"Oh, I’m telling everyone. I’m making pamphlets. ’How to Disarm Exile: Touch His Face and Wait.’"

"I will eat the pamphlets."

"With what teeth? You ground them all to dust, remember?"

The sound he made, low, rough, caught somewhere between a hiss and a laugh, settled into her bones like something she wanted to keep forever.

Then Voss’s voice cut through the silence, dry and deliberate: "You still haven’t told us how many cubs."

"Four," she said. The word came out softer than she intended, almost reverent. She watched their faces shift.

Victor’s chin jerking up, Voss going completely still, Damien’s breath catching audibly, Lucan turning from the edge of camp mid-stride, Ivan’s massive frame swaying forward half a step.

She bit her lower lip, fighting the grin that wanted to split her face wide open. "We’re having four cubs."

The silence that followed was absolute. Nobody breathed.

Then Voss broke it with a strangled noise. "Four..."

"Two girls," Felicity continued, and now she let the grin loose, all teeth and mischief and barely contained joy. "And two boys."

Victor moved first.

One fluid motion and the gravel shifting under his boots as he closed the distance between them, his large hand covering both of hers where they rested on her belly. The smell of cedar and frost wrapped around her like a second skin. She leaned into him before her brain caught up with her body, her fox ears tipping forward, seeking more of that crisp alpine smell that meant safe, meant his, meant home.