Chapter 174: Rough shape,
Kael led Freya, Rhea, and Lila to the house next to the Haven, the morning sun glaring off its dilapidated facade.
The structure was a mess—sagging wooden siding shed curls of faded paint, cracked windows gaped like broken teeth, and the yard choked on a tangle of weeds, vines, and twisted trees, their roots buckling the cracked walkway.
The air reeked of mildew and decay, the Haven’s creaky walls behind them a faint comfort.
Freya shifted, her navy pants concealing the anal bead panties, each step sending a subtle, tingling jolt through her, her jaw clenched to stifle a gasp.
"What a dump," Rhea said, nudging a rusted can with her foot, her black shorts already dusted with dirt, the scent of her breakfast bacon lingering.
"Needs more than a broom," Freya muttered, her voice sharp, her hands twitching, the beads’ pressure a constant distraction, her cyan t-shirt creasing as she surveyed the chaos.
Lila, her loose gown swishing, stayed silent, her glasses catching the light, her power-suppressing collar off for now at Kael’s approval, her presence a quiet commitment to the task.
"Clear it out with your powers," Kael said, his grin steady, his t-shirt damp with early sweat, his jeans streaked from brushing past weeds. "Make it ours."
Freya took point, her fingers snapping, a frosty aura swirling around her.
She conjured a storm of sharp snowflakes, each a glinting, blade-like crystal, slicing through the yard’s mess with precision.
Vines snapped, trees crashed, their trunks sheared clean, and overgrown tendrils collapsed in heaps, the air sharp with the scent of fresh sap and ice.