The rooftop was quiet in a way the road never was.
Up here, the wind moved cleanly, sliding across broken brick and tangled rebar without carrying the weight of fur or blood or fear. The city stretched out below them in dark shapes and fractured silhouettes, windows hollow and reflective beneath the rising moon.
Ivan padded to the highest point of the structure and slowly lowered himself.
Felicity slid from his back, her hands lingering in his mane longer than necessary before he shifted.
The change rolled through him like liquid strength, fur retreating, spine straightening, shoulders broadening into their familiar human shape. When he turned to face her, moonlight caught the planes of his chest and the quiet intensity in his eyes.
She was still kneeling where she had landed.
Looking up at him.
The wind tugged lightly at her hair.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"You carried me all day," she said softly.
"Yes."
"You didn't have to."
"I did."
