Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 24: Freya

Breakfast settled over the Haven's battered kitchen in a fragile quiet, the kind that begged to be broken. Kael sat at the scratched table, his fork scraping across a half-empty plate of eggs.

Steam curled up from his coffee mug in lazy wisps that stung his still-tender nose.

Across from him, Rhea slouched in her chair, the white t-shirt and pajama pants he'd left her swallowing her frame.

Her crimson hair was a tangled mess as she shoveled toast crumbs into her mouth. Her amber eyes stayed bleary, squinting against the gray light spilling through the busted window.

The clink of utensils bounced off cracked tiles, mixing with the occasional creak of a chair whenever one of them shifted. For a moment, the silence held—a thin shield over the chaos of last night's fight and this morning's brawl with Freya.

Then Rhea's mug slammed down with a thud, coffee sloshing over the rim, and her voice erupted, shattering the calm like a brick through glass.

She didn't waste breath on the eggs or the wreckage still haunting the corners; her target was Freya, and Kael hadn't even asked.

"That icy bitch has this precision that makes my skin crawl," she started, voice thick with irritation. She jabbed her fork into the air like a weapon.

"Slices through anything—people, walls, whatever—like it's butter, and she doesn't even blink. Drives me up the damn wall how she struts around, acting like nothing can touch her." She chewed loudly, crumbs sticking to her lip, and her scowl deepened as she barreled on without a pause.

"But she's got weaknesses too, you know. Thinks she's slick, but take away her powers and she's clumsy as hell—trips over her own feet like a drunk toddler. Back in the day, we ran into each other on some botched heist; her fault, obviously."

"Froze the loot solid, screwed the whole crew, and I've wanted to torch her smug face ever since." Kael sipped his coffee, keeping his hazel eyes steady on her, letting her rant roll unchecked. She was venting, sure, but every word was gold—unwitting intel stacking up in his head.

Rhea barely took a breath, steamrolling through her grudges with a growl that grew louder by the second. "She's got this laugh too, all high-pitched and grating—sounds like someone dragging a knife over a plate. Claims I burned down her hideout once, which is a total lie, but she's been lording it over me forever like some petty queen."

Kael nodded once, keeping it casual, his mug warm in his hands as he filed away her rant—Freya's strengths, her flaws, their tangled past—all ammo he could wield later. She didn't notice, too caught up in her own fire, and he let her spill, watching the way her amber eyes flashed with every jab.

By the time the cleanup crew Kael hired, rolled in, their boots clattering and brooms hissing across the floor, Rhea was still going.

She barely glanced at the three guys who entered to tackle the wreckage. They swept glass into piles, hauled splinters, and started hammering nails into Rhea's busted doorframe.

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The rhythmic thud echoed through the kitchen as she finally swung her gaze to Kael, arms crossing tight over her chest. "Why are you even bothering with this crap?" she demanded, her voice sharp as she jerked her chin at the crew. "If I wanted to bolt, I could've ditched last night—door wide open while you were sleeping beside me."

Kael's smirk bloomed slow and sly as he propped his chin on his hand, letting her words hang for a beat before firing back. "Oh, really? So what's the deal then—did you wake up a saint? Finally ditch the supervillain gig for good?" His tone dripped with mockery, playful yet edged with a probe, his hazel eyes glinting as he watched her squirm.

Rhea stiffened instantly, her face flushing red as she leaned forward, amber eyes blazing with defiance. "Don't twist this into something it's not," she snapped, snagging a scrap of toast and flinging it at him with a flick of her wrist. It bounced off his chest, crumbs scattering across his shirt, and she glared harder, voice rising.

"I'll burn down whatever I damn well please—don't test me, pervert. I'm only sticking around because you're useful. Free food, a bed that doesn't stink of prison—beats the hell out of my other options. I'll split the second I'm bored, so don't get comfy."

Kael chuckled low and rough, brushing the crumbs off with a lazy swipe, his grin widening. "Right. And that's exactly why your door's staying locked—can't have my VIP guest wandering off mid-stay." Realization hit her like a slap, her jaw dropping for a split second before clamping shut, frustration flashing across her face.

She'd walked straight into his trap, for the second time—her own words boxing her in—and a groan rumbled out as she clenched her fist tight. She swung at his shoulder, a light jab that barely stung, and growled through gritted teeth, "You sneaky little shit." Kael's grin stretched wider, a spark of triumph in his hazel eyes as he leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight.

"What can I say? It's a gift." The crew kept at it—nails sinking into wood, brooms sweeping glass into neat piles, the rhythmic thud of repairs filling the air as Rhea's room took shape again. Kael stretched then, rolling his shoulders with a faint wince as his bruises throbbed soft under his shirt, and cracked his neck with a satisfying pop.

"I am not going to work today," he said, keeping his voice casual as he flicked his gaze to Rhea. "Time to start on Freya—crack that icy shell. You in?" Rhea scoffed, loud and sharp, snagging her mug and taking a slow, deliberate sip as if weighing some grand decision.

"Yeah, hard pass," she said, her tone dripping with disdain as she set the mug back down, amber eyes rolling. Kael exhaled, a mock sigh slipping out as he pushed up from the table, the chair scraping back across the tiles. "Guess I'll just lock you up while I handle her then," he said, his smirk twitching as he watched her reaction brew.

Rhea froze mid-motion, her fingers tightening around the mug's handle until her knuckles whitened, a vein pulsing on her forehead as her amber eyes narrowed to slits. She slammed the mug down—coffee splashing over the edge—and shot him a glare that could've ignited the table. "You absolute jackass," she hissed, her voice low and venomous, but Kael just grinned wider, unfazed by the heat rolling off her.

"Fine! I'll help, you smug bastard—I wouldn't want you to be killed by her while I am locked in that room." Kael stood, tossing his napkin onto his plate with a flourish, his smirk turning smug as he met her glare head-on.

"See? Wasn't so tough, was it?" Rhea muttered something under her breath—low and growly, a string of curses about his bed going up in flames—but didn't bother hiding the irritation twisting her face.

Kael's grin held firm, his mind already shifting gears as he turned away, the cleanup crew's hammering fading into background noise. Freya was next on his list—a tall, icy wall to climb—and thanks to Rhea's nonstop ranting, he had a loaded clip of intel to fire. Strengths to dodge, weaknesses to hit, grudges to twist.

He hadn't planned on her help, but now that she was in, the game just got a whole lot spicier.