Felicia kept the children inside. The door stayed closed, locked from within. She settled Danny and Max on the bed with paper and crayons spread between them.
"We play quiet today." Her voice was calm and steady. "Draw something nice."
Max picked up a green crayon. Danny chose blue. They bent over their papers, focused and obedient.
The radio sat heavy in Felicia's hand. She kept the volume low, just loud enough to catch the words. Her thumb rested on the dial, ready to adjust if voices got too loud.
Static crackled. Then a voice broke through. "Intermediary contained. One warrior down."
Felicia's spine went rigid. Her fingers tightened around the radio until the plastic edges bit into her palm. "Is Damien intact?"
The words came out clear and sharp. Behind her, the children kept drawing. They didn't look up.
Silence stretched. Three seconds. Four. Too long.
"Answer." The command cracked through her controlled tone.
"Alpha is injured. Light wound. He's standing." The commander's voice was professional but careful.
Felicia's throat closed. The air in her lungs felt too thin, not enough oxygen reaching her brain. Her vision narrowed to a point, then expanded again as she forced herself to breathe.
"Draw." She said it to the children without turning around. Her voice came out surprisingly normal.
Max added yellow to his picture. Danny pressed his crayon harder against the paper, creating dark blue streaks.
Felicia moved to the door and opened it. The guard outside straightened immediately. "You don't move from this post. Not one step."
"Yes, Luna."
She was already walking. Her feet moved fast but didn't run. Running would show panic, and panic served no purpose. The medical station was three corridors away.
The door to medical stood open. Felicia stepped through and her eyes found him immediately. Damien sat on the examination table, his right arm wrapped in white bandages. Blood stained his sleeve, dark and wet.
She crossed the space between them. Didn't ask for permission, didn't slow down. Just moved until she was directly in front of him.
"Did you break the rules?" Her tone was hard as stone.
Damien looked up at her. His face was pale but composed. "No. I didn't play hero. Got hit covering another warrior during extraction."
The explanation was simple. Direct. No embellishment or excuses.
Felicia turned to the pack doctor. "Step back."
The doctor moved without question. Felicia's hands went to Damien's arm, checking the bandage. She unwrapped the top layer and examined the wound beneath. A deep gash, maybe four inches long, but clean. No debris visible.
She rewrapped it tighter. Her fingers worked with practiced efficiency, each movement precise. "You don't risk yourself unnecessarily."
The words came out level and controlled. Damien watched her hands work. "I followed the plan exactly. Check the radio log if you need confirmation."
Felicia took the radio from his belt. She scrolled through the recorded transmissions, listening to the operation unfold in short bursts of communication. Everything matched what he'd said.
She handed it back. Their fingers touched during the exchange, and she didn't pull away immediately. Instead, she wrapped her hand around his for one second. Squeezed once. Firm pressure that said things she wasn't ready to speak.
Then she released. Let go completely and stepped back half a pace. The contact ended cleanly, without lingering or transformation into something more.
Damien didn't try to hold on. His hand stayed where it was when she pulled away, not reaching after her. He just nodded once, acknowledgment without demand.
"We go back to the children." Felicia's voice stayed even.
"Yes." Damien stood slowly, favoring his injured arm.
They walked out of medical together. Side by side but with space between them. Felicia kept her distance but didn't push him away with her eyes. Didn't create walls with her posture or her silence.
The corridor stretched ahead. Other pack members moved past them, eyes tracking their Luna and Alpha walking together. Felicia felt their attention but didn't care. Let them look. Let them wonder.
Damien's breathing was slightly labored. The injury hurt more than he was showing, she could tell by the way he held his shoulder. But he didn't slow down or ask to rest.
"The doctor said you need to keep it elevated." Felicia kept her eyes forward as she spoke.
"I will."
"And no heavy lifting for three days."
"Understood."
Short exchanges. Simple agreements. But underneath ran something deeper. She'd squeezed his hand. Had checked his wound with her own fingers. Had stood close enough to smell the antiseptic and blood.
Care. That's what it was. She cared if he got hurt. The realization should have sent her walls shooting back up. Should have made her retreat to safety.
But her walls stayed where they were. Lowered just enough to let this through.
They reached her wing. The guard was still in position, exactly where she'd left him. Danny and Max were visible through the open door, still drawing peacefully.
Damien stopped at the threshold. He didn't try to enter, didn't assume access. Just stood there and waited.
Felicia looked at him. Really looked, taking in the pale cast to his skin, the careful way he held his arm. He'd followed her plan. Had taken a hit protecting someone else, not through recklessness or heroics.
"Thank you." The words were quiet. Simple. But they carried weight.
Damien's expression didn't change. "You're welcome."
He turned and walked back down the corridor. His steps were measured despite the injury. Felicia watched until he turned the corner and disappeared.
Then she went inside to her children. Max held up his drawing, a mess of green and yellow that might have been a tree. Danny's was darker, blues and blacks swirling together.
"Is Dad okay?" Danny's voice was small.
Felicia sat between them on the bed. "He's fine. Just a small scratch."
Max leaned against her side. Danny's hand found hers. She held them both and felt something crack open in her chest. Not breaking, just opening. Making room for something she'd been fighting against.
The mission was complete. The intermediary was contained. Damien was injured but alive. And she'd touched him voluntarily, had squeezed his hand and meant it.
The ground was still shifting beneath her feet. But maybe, just maybe, she was learning to walk on unstable terrain without falling.