Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 289: spoon

Lital fed him again, the spoon hovering before his lips, her gaze steady as he accepted another bite.

And again, she followed with one for herself, the act a shared rhythm, each bite weaving them closer in the quiet.

It should have been sweet, tender even—a moment of connection.

It should have been romantic, the kind of intimacy born from shared history.

But Kael couldn’t shake the feeling of being... watched.

Owned.

The tendrils, the shadows, her unwavering gaze—they held him in a way that felt both protective and possessive, a line blurred between care and control.

And yet, when she spoke next, her voice was so soft, so human, it caught him off guard, piercing through the unease like a ray of light.

"I’m not clinging to you," she said, without looking at him, her focus on the tray as she scooped another bite of pudding. "Not like you think."

Kael turned toward her, his brow furrowing slightly.

"This," she gestured around them—herself, the food, the shadows, the warmth of the couch—"this is the only way I know how to show it."

"Show what?" he asked, his voice quiet, searching her profile for answers.

Lital’s eyes met his, black and deep, holding a vulnerability that contrasted the strength radiating from her.

"Love."

The word didn’t shake.

It didn’t struggle.

It dropped from her lips with weight, steady and unashamed, filling the space between them with its raw honesty.

"Maybe I’ve been waiting for someone like you my whole life," she continued, placing the spoon down carefully, her fingers lingering on it as if grounding herself.

"And now that I’ve found you... I don’t want to leave. Don’t want to lose you to the world out there, to the dangers waiting."

She leaned closer, her scent curling around him like perfume and dusk, heady and overwhelming.

"I just hope you’ll bear with me," she whispered, her voice soft but fervent, her black eyes searching his. "Even if I don’t always know how to do it right."

Kael didn’t know what to say.

Because in that moment—between the shadows, the pudding, the black lips and dark honesty—he saw her.

Not as a monster, not as the force that had torn through the Reaper or pulled him into this hidden place.

But as a woman—broken in ways she was still piecing together, dangerous in her strength, deeply in love in a way that scared her as much as it drove her.

And terrifyingly sincere, her heart laid bare in the quiet intimacy of shared pudding and unspoken promises.

_________

"Hello."

Liss’s voice was sharp, tired, cutting through the static like a blade worn from overuse.

She leaned against the rooftop railing, the city sprawl blurring below her in the fading light, her free hand gripping the metal until her knuckles whitened.

Rhea’s voice snapped through the phone immediately, laced with frustration and worry. "Where the hell have you been?!"

Before Liss could answer, Freya’s voice joined in—more controlled, but just as tense, the edge of her concern sharpening her words. "We got a message from Kael. It doesn’t sound like him. Where is he?"

Liss was silent for a second, the wind whipping her hair as she stared at the horizon, gathering her thoughts.

Then she spoke flatly, her tone devoid of excuses: "He’s been taken."

A pause stretched across the line, heavy and electric.

Then both voices erupted at once, overlapping in a chaotic burst.

"What?!"

"Taken?! What the hell does that mean?!"

Freya’s voice rose higher, laced with accusation. "You’re an S-Class hero! You were supposed to be watching him!"

Liss gritted her teeth, her knuckles sparking faintly where she gripped the railing, small arcs of electricity dancing across the metal. "I know."

"You let someone grab him?! Under your nose?!"

"I said I know!" Her shout cut through the phone, raw and frustrated, the lightning on her body surging once in a blue flash before dying down, leaving her breathing heavily.

Silence fell, thick and uncomfortable, the only sound the distant hum of the city below.

Liss exhaled slowly, forcing her voice to lower, steadying herself like she was reining in a storm. "It’s my fault. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve been faster. But Kael’s not dead."

Freya’s voice wavered, the anger giving way to raw fear. "How do you know?"

"Because I saw her eyes," Liss said quietly, her gaze distant, replaying the moment in her mind—the way Lital had looked at him, intense and unblinking.

"She didn’t look like she wanted to kill him. Not even close."

"Then what did she want?" Rhea asked, her tone pragmatic but underlined with urgency.

Liss’s gaze narrowed at the horizon, the buildings casting long shadows in the setting sun.

"Something darker. Something deeper. She looked at him like he was... the last thing holding her together. Like without him, she’d unravel."

Freya asked, her voice dropping to a whisper, "Who is she?"

There was another beat of silence, Liss weighing how much to reveal, how to frame the impossible.

Then she answered, her words heavy. "Lital."

"...Who?"

"The twins’ real self," Liss said, her voice grim, piecing it together aloud as if saying it made it real.

"The original. The one before they were split into Tila and Lila. The core of who they were—Lital, the girl from the orphanage records."

Freya sucked in a breath, sharp and audible over the line. "She merged?"

"Yeah," Liss muttered, rubbing her temple as the headache from the day’s events throbbed.

"And she’s powerful. Not A-rank. Not anymore. Whatever happened in that box with Kael—it changed her. Amplified her."

Rhea’s voice turned cold, analytical. "Then why did you let her leave?"

Liss laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and self-deprecating, echoing off the rooftop. "Let her? You think I let her? You didn’t see her, Rhea. I’ve never seen anyone manipulate shadows like that. Not even in the upper divisions, not in the classified files on rogue supers. She crushed the terrain around the old orphanage like it was paper—tendrils ripping through concrete, collapsing walls with precision. It wasn’t just rage; it was control."

"She’s a goddamn monster now," Liss added, her voice grim, laced with a reluctant respect.

"And I couldn’t stop her even if I wanted to. Not without turning the whole area into a battlefield—and risking Kael in the crossfire."

There was silence on the other end, the weight of her words sinking in, Freya and Rhea processing the shift from fractured twins to this new, unified threat.

Then Freya spoke again, her tone softer but insistent. "Is Kael... okay?"

Liss’s voice softened, just barely, a flicker of reassurance breaking through her frustration.

"He was when I saw him last. She was kissing him—not hurting him. And... he wasn’t fighting back as hard as he should’ve. There was something there, something mutual, even if it’s twisted now."

Rhea sighed, the sound heavy over the line. "Still, we need to find him. Fast. Before whatever this is spirals."

"I agree."

Liss rubbed her temple again, the sparks fading from her hand as she forced herself to think clearly.

"Check the twins’ room. See if there’s anything—notes, books, maps, drawings. Anything that might give us a clue where Lital could be hiding. Old haunts, places from her past, even sketches that seem off."

"We’re on it," Freya replied, her voice resolute, the shift to action steadying her.

"Call me if you find anything," Liss said, her tone final.

She was about to hang up when Rhea added, her voice cutting through: "...And Liss?"

"Yeah?"

There was a pause, brief but loaded. Then softly, with a hint of warmth. "We’re not blaming you. Just don’t vanish on us again."

Liss smiled faintly, the corner of her mouth twitching despite the exhaustion weighing on her. "No promises."

She ended the call with a tap, the screen going dark as she pocketed the phone.

Her eyes lifted to the city again, the skyline a jagged outline against the encroaching dusk, shadows lengthening like fingers reaching out.

She stood there, the wind tugging at her jacket, her mind already racing ahead—planning, searching, determined not to lose him for good.

Then it hit her, a spark of realization cutting through the fog of frustration.

"...Wait."

Her eyes narrowed, blue irises sharpening as she quickly unlocked her screen and scrolled through her contacts, fingers flying with purpose.

"Kael..."

She tapped open his name and stared at the connected data line, the simple icon that linked his device to the network.

Of course.

He still had his phone—assuming Lital hadn’t ditched it or smashed it in her dramatic exit.

And if he had his phone, she could find him.

Track the signal, pinpoint the location, and close in before whatever game Lital was playing escalated.

Liss immediately dialed the S-Class Hero Support Line, her thumb hovering over the call button for only a heartbeat before pressing it.

The line connected with a faint click, secure and encrypted.

A synthetic voice answered, cool and mechanical. "This is Central Support—Level Three Access. State your ID."

"Lightning Lass."

"Voice match confirmed. Proceed."