Chapter 68: Rest and Recovery

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the streets as we made our way back to the small motel nestled at the edge of the bustling city. The air carried the faint scent of the sea, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly turned soil from the nearby fields. It was a comforting contrast to the chaos of our recent battles and travels.

Pyre walked a few steps ahead, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets. The wolf trotted alongside him, tail swaying lazily, its dark fur shimmering under the fading sunlight. For once, I felt at peace—a rare sensation in a life that had been defined by blood, struggle, and questions without answers.

The motel was modest but cozy, its wooden beams weathered but sturdy. Pyre opened the door to our room, stepping aside to let the wolf and me enter first. Inside, the room was simple—two beds, a small table, and a single window with a view of the marketplace below.

I dropped onto one of the beds with a heavy sigh, feeling the day's weariness seep into my bones. The wolf leapt up beside me, curling into a ball and letting out a soft huff. Pyre pulled up a chair by the table, lighting a small lamp that bathed the room in a soft, warm light.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The quiet was almost sacred, a shared understanding that words weren't necessary right now.

Finally, Pyre broke the silence. "You're getting better."

I turned my head to look at him. He was leaning back in the chair, arms crossed, his crimson eyes studying me with a mix of approval and something else—something I couldn't quite name.

"Better at what?" I asked, my voice tinged with skepticism.

"Everything," he said simply. "Fighting, thinking, surviving. You're not the same guy who stumbled out of that lab, half-dead and clueless."

I looked away, the memory of the lab stirring a faint unease in my chest. "I still feel weak sometimes," I admitted. "Like I'm always one step away from losing it all."

Pyre's grin was faint but genuine. "Good. That feeling means you're not getting cocky. It keeps you sharp. Just don't let it stop you from pushing forward."

Later that evening, Pyre brought out a small cooking kit he had stashed in his bag. He set it up on the table, and within minutes, the room was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of seasoned meat sizzling on a portable grill.

"Where do you even keep this stuff?" I asked, watching as he expertly flipped the pieces of meat.

"Trade secret," Pyre replied with a smirk. "You'll learn it someday—if you live long enough."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips. The wolf perked up, its nose twitching as it caught the scent of the food.

"Don't even think about it," Pyre said, pointing a fork at the wolf. "You've had your share today."

The wolf let out a small whine, its eyes wide with what could only be described as calculated pitifulness.

"Stop babying him," I said, tossing a scrap of meat toward the wolf. It caught it mid-air with a satisfied chomp.

Pyre shook his head, chuckling softly. "You're spoiling him. Next thing you know, he'll be demanding a throne."

As the night deepened, the conversation turned to lighter topics—stories from Pyre's travels, anecdotes about the wolf's antics, and my clumsy attempts at humor that surprisingly got a few chuckles out of Pyre.

"You know," Pyre said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression, "I didn't think you'd make it this far."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied dryly.

He shrugged. "It's not an insult. Most people don't survive what you've been through. But you're still here. That means something."

I glanced at the wolf, its eyes half-closed as it dozed beside me. "I've had help."

Pyre's gaze softened, and for a moment, he seemed almost… human. "Yeah, you have. But don't forget—it's your strength that's kept you going. Don't sell yourself short."

As the embers of the small grill died down and the room grew quiet once more, Pyre leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His tone shifted, becoming more serious.

"We've got bigger things ahead," he said. "What you've seen so far? It's just the tip of the iceberg."

I frowned, sitting up straighter. "What do you mean?"

Pyre met my gaze, his crimson eyes gleaming in the lamplight. "There are forces out there—things that make those scorpions and fusions look like child's play. You're strong, Ash, but strength alone won't cut it. You need to be smart. Adaptable."

I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I'll keep training," I said.

"Good," Pyre said, standing up and stretching. "Because the next leg of our journey? It's going to make everything we've done so far look easy."

He ruffled my hair as he walked past, earning an annoyed swat from me.

"Get some sleep," he called over his shoulder. "You'll need it."

I watched as he disappeared into the adjoining room, the faint sound of his footsteps fading away. The wolf stirred, letting out a soft sigh as it snuggled closer to me.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself relax. Whatever lay ahead, I knew I wasn't facing it alone.

And for now, that was enough.