Chapter 116: The Recovery Room

Debbie was quietly wiping Rose’s pale forehead when Ethan appeared inside the Survival Space. She saw the burns across his shoulder and the dried blood on his sleeve at once.

"What happened to you?" she asked, setting the cloth down.

"I need your Healing Essence," Ethan said. He took her wrist and led her into the small recovery room off the main area so the others would not be disturbed. The door closed behind them.

Debbie activated her ability without hesitation. Warm golden liquid formed between her palms and flowed into his mouth. It spread through his throat and chest. The burns on his shoulder cooled. Torn muscle began to knit. The worst of the pain faded into a dull ache, and some of the energy he had burned outside returned.

They stood close in the dim room. The golden light faded from her hands. Ethan’s breathing had steadied, but the tight space and the heat of her ability still lingered between them. Debbie’s shirt was slightly open at the collar from leaning over Rose earlier. The fabric pulled across her chest when she shifted. Ethan’s gaze dropped for a second, then returned to her face.

"You’re still tense," she said quietly.

He didn’t answer. His hand came up and rested on her waist. She didn’t pull away. The recovery room was small, the cot behind them barely wide enough for one person, but neither of them moved toward the door.

Debbie’s fingers brushed the edge of the torn shirt still clinging to his shoulder. She eased it off. The newly healed skin was warm under her palm. Ethan turned her and backed her against the wall beside the cot. Her breath caught when his mouth found the side of her neck. She tilted her head, giving him room, and her hands settled on his bare sides.

He kissed lower, along her collarbone, then pushed the open collar of her shirt farther aside. The soft weight of her breasts shifted under the thin fabric. He cupped one through the shirt, thumb brushing the peak until it hardened. Debbie made a small sound and arched into his hand. He pulled the shirt up and over her head. It caught for a second in her hair before falling to the floor.

Her bare chest rose and fell under his palms. He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, tongue circling slowly while his other hand slid down her stomach and under the waistband of her pants. She was already wet when his fingers found her. He stroked once, then again, and she gripped his shoulders tighter.

Ethan pushed her pants and underwear down together. She stepped out of them, then reached for his belt. He let her open it. When his pants dropped, she wrapped her hand around him and stroked once, slow. He caught her wrist and guided her onto the cot. She lay back, one knee bent, watching him as he settled between her legs.

He pushed inside her in one steady thrust. Debbie’s breath left her in a quiet gasp. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, then began to move. The cot creaked under them. Her hands slid up his back and held on. He kept the pace unhurried at first, watching her face, then drove deeper when her hips rose to meet him. She turned her head and bit down on a small sound against his shoulder.

He shifted his angle. Her legs tightened around his waist. One hand braced beside her head while the other stayed between them, thumb circling where they were joined. Debbie’s breathing turned short. She came with a soft, broken moan, her body clenching around him. Ethan kept moving through it until the tension in her eased, then buried himself and stayed there, spilling inside her in long pulses while his mouth rested against her neck.

They stayed like that for a minute. Her fingers traced slow lines along his spine. Neither of them spoke. Outside the thin door, the Survival Space was quiet.

When he finally eased out of her, Debbie made a small sound and pulled the thin blanket over both of them. He lay on his side so the freshly healed shoulder would not take his weight. She fitted herself against him, her breasts soft against his chest, one leg draped over his. He kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes.

Almost half an hour later, Ethan stepped back out of the recovery room looking renewed. Tessa, awake on a nearby cot, glanced from his face to Debbie as she followed him out, quietly adjusting the collar of her shirt. Tessa’s eyes narrowed for a second, but Ethan did not notice. His attention was already on the yard outside.

He teleported back to the slaughterhouse.

The Hyena King was still prowling the perimeter, sniffing the concrete where Ethan had vanished earlier. Its blue mane burned, throwing flickering light across the carcasses. Ethan deliberately left his left side open. The tissue was healed, but his posture suggested weakness. The Hyena King’s ears twitched. It lowered itself and charged.

Clawed paws slammed the ground. Its jaws opened and a pillar of white-hot fire roared toward him, bone spikes screaming from its tail. Ethan waited until the last moment, until the beast’s momentum locked its path.

"Now."

Time Stop.

The flames froze in midair. The bone spikes hung motionless inches from his chest. The Hyena King locked in place, jaws wide. One second.

Ethan drove a Spatial Cut into the half-healed wound on its neck. The blade tore through muscle and spine. Time resumed. The Hyena King’s eyes widened. Its dying shriek cut across the yard as its body crashed to the concrete. The blue flames flickered and died.

Ethan stepped up to the carcass, split the skull, and took the diamond-shaped Core that radiated steady heat. He stored it, then found an abandoned teaching building several streets away. He cleared a classroom on the second floor, checked the doors, and brought Daisy and the others out of the Survival Space to rest.

As night settled, the women arranged a makeshift bed across the desks and slept. Ethan stood by the broken window, watching the street. Soft arms slipped around his waist from behind.

"Daisy?"

She pressed her cheek against his back. "When we were at the Underground Casino, you promised me something. You said that when we finally met again..."

Ethan stayed quiet. He still had only one SSS-Rank Ability. Before he could answer, dark shapes crossed the window. A swarm of Mutant Bats moved in unison. One carried a tuft of white fur on its head.

Ethan recognized it. The mental-tracking bat from the Museum. If he took its Core, he might find a way to track and free Rose.

He told Daisy in a low voice. The disappointment left her face. "Then go. Bats only fly at night."

Ethan ruffled her hair. "Once this is over, I’ll make it up to you."

"Just go," she said, smiling.

He activated Teleportation and vanished into the dark after the white-marked bat.