Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 23: The Ice Queen 3

Tension crackled in the Haven's dusty air, thick as static before a storm.

Freya loomed tall, platinum-cyan hair glinting cold, icy blue eyes boring into Kael like twin blades.

Her threat hung heavy, "smooth and simple, or rough and broken," and Kael knew one thing for damn sure: she meant every word.

Rhea, pinned in his grip till now, went still, her amber eyes flicking up to Freya, aggression melting into something sharp, eager, like a wolf scenting blood.

Kael's hands loosened, letting her slip free, her pajama-clad frame stepping back, breath hitching as she watched.

He squared up, boots planted firm on cracked tiles, and met Freya's glare, feigning a grin, hazel eyes glinting with forced steel.

"Hard way means you're stuck in your room longer," he said, voice steady, rough around the edges.

"Easy way, you get a say in how this goes."

His words rolled out bold, but his pulse ticked fast, bruises pulsing faint on his jaw, ribs aching from last night's brawl.

Freya's face shifted, subtle, a twitch at her lip, but Kael caught it: annoyance, pure and cold.

She didn't budge, didn't blink, just stood there, a statue carved of frost, her gaze pressing harder.

Kael waited, breath shallow, hands flexing, ready for her next move.

Her powers were locked tight by that collar, suppressed to nothing, so this hard-and-easy talk?

Maybe just a bluff, a queen flexing with no cards.

He held his ground, dust swirling faint around them, Haven's hum buzzing low.

Rhea shifted between them, amber darting from Kael to Freya, confusion creasing her brow, anticipation lighting her eyes.

She opened her mouth, maybe to snap, maybe to cheer, but Freya cut the silence first, voice low, lethal.

"Well, hard it is."

She lunged, no warning, no windup, just a blur of motion, fist swinging straight for Kael's face.

He twisted fast, her knuckles grazing his cheek, cold as ice even through the miss, and stumbled back, boots skidding on glass.

Freya pressed in, relentless, another punch flying, then a kick, all raw hand-to-hand, no powers to back her up.

Her skin brushed his arm, freezing, sharp, like touching a blade, and Kael's grin faded, focus snapping tight.

She wasn't playing soft, so neither would he.

Next dodge, he struck back, fist grazing her wrist as she swung, Empathic Resonance flaring hot.

Pain spiked through her, sharp and deep, her block faltering, a small "ah" slipping free, surprise widening those icy blues.

She froze mid-step, fist clenched, staring at it, skin smooth, no mark, yet agony pulsed where he'd touched.

Her head snapped up, glare locking his, and her lips curled, a cold realization settling in.

"So that's your trick," she said, voice smooth, cutting, blue eyes glinting with new respect, sharper menace.

She didn't hesitate, spun to the busted chair beside her, wood already splintered from last night, and snapped its legs free with a crack.

Two jagged batons now gripped tight, she charged again, swinging wild, aiming to crack his skull.

Kael ducked, wood whistling past his ear, glass crunching underfoot, and danced back, hazel eyes tracking her swings.

Years scrapping villains bare-handed kicked in, he read her fast, spotting the flaws.

Her strikes were fierce but sloppy, telegraphed wide, legs stiff, balance off.

She leaned on her superpower, not fists, and with that collar choking her ice, she was raw meat.

A grin split his face, dark, grim, confidence surging, and he weaved through her next swing, wood clipping his shoulder, pain a dull thud he shrugged off.

He struck, fist slamming her abdomen, Resonance igniting, agony ripping through her gut.

Freya grunted, staggering, blue eyes flashing shock, but Kael didn't stop.

Another hit, her thigh this time, pain buckling her knee, then a jab to her jaw, cold skin brushing his knuckles as she reeled.

No scratches bloomed, no blood spilled, but each touch burned her nerves raw, her gasps sharp, body folding under the unseen weight.

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Rhea watched, amber wide, half-stunned, half-thrilled, pajamas swishing as she rocked on her heels, a smirk tugging her lips.

Freya swung again, batons flailing, weaker now, and Kael sidestepped, snagging her wrist mid-arc.

Resonance flared again, pain exploding up her arm, and she yelped, wood clattering free as her grip broke.

He pressed in, fist to her ribs, her chest, each hit a pulse of torment, her knees buckling fast.

She hit the tiles hard, gasping, platinum hair spilling wild, and Kael loomed, breath heaving, bruises throbbing but ignored.

"Enough," he growled, voice rough, hazel glinting cold.

She glared up, blue eyes blazing, defiance unbroken, but her body betrayed her, trembling under the pain's echo.

Kael grabbed her arm, cold skin biting his palm, and hauled her up, dragging her across the Haven.

Her boots scraped, weak kicks fading, and he shoved her onto a cot in a spare room, gray, bare, door still intact.

She slumped, chest rising fast, and he stepped back, lock clicking sharp as he sealed her in.

A marker dangled from his pocket, black, scuffed, and he scrawled quick on a card slotted by the door:

2. Freya.

The ink bled faint, a second name beside Rhea's, marking his tally.

He turned, wiping sweat from his brow, dust sticking, ribs aching, and caught Rhea staring, amber glinting sharp in the dim light.

Her smirk widened, arms crossed loose over her t-shirt.

"Not bad, pervert," she said, voice rough, teasing, but a flicker of something, respect maybe, lit her gaze.

Kael's grin twitched, pain tugging his lip, and he shrugged, boots scuffing back to the kitchen.

"Had worse," he muttered, snagging a rag to wipe his hands, glass crunching faint, Haven's wreckage a grim backdrop.

Freya's cold lingered on his skin, her threat still ringing, bluff or not, she'd pushed, and he'd pushed back harder.

But two now, Rhea's fire, Freya's ice, tangled in his rehab, and the odds twisted tighter, a knot he couldn't shake.