He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 170

By the time they reached the camp, it was dead of night.

Everyone was exhausted to the bone.

But having found Ottilie, the crushing pressure had evaporated.

Yorath was an incredibly generous employer.

While they were still hiking back, his finance team had already wired their payments.

On top of the agreed rate, he threw in a twenty-thousand bonus per person for hazard pay and ruined gear.

Lost drones and broken equipment were fully reimbursed without a single question.

With the cash secured, the crew happily retired to rest, eager to pack up and fly out the next morning.

Ottilie trailed behind Yorath. As soon as they entered the camp, Nyssa, Kendrick Walden, and a private chef hurried over to greet them.

"Yorath, you're back! I heard Ms. Sewell was found, so I had the chef prepare some Herbal Chicken Consommé. It's ready to serve."

Yorath took the soup from her hands and turned sharply to Jevon.

"I want everyone cleared out. Five hundred meters away from this spot."

Jevon shot Ottilie a dark look before barking the orders.

Having just been handsomely paid, the rescue team moved with military precision.

Within fifteen minutes, the entire area was deserted.

Carrying the steaming bowl, Yorath spared Ottilie a single glance before stepping into his tent.

It was a temporary, hastily erected structure.

Inside was a narrow cot, a folding table, and a few folding stools.

He placed the soup on the table and pointed to the cot. "Sit."

She complied.

He dragged the table directly in front of her. "Drink."

She lifted the lid. The rich aroma of chicken broth wafted out.

It was brewed with several restorative herbs, carrying a faint, medicinal scent.

She took a sip. It was incredibly savory.

She hadn't eaten solid food in days.

The glucose injection had staved off the immediate hunger, but the biological urge to eat remained.

She picked up the bowl and drained the broth, ignoring the meat.

Her stomach was too fragile for anything difficult to digest.

The flimsy metal frame shuddered violently under the impact.

The mattress was nothing more than a thin, unyielding pad.

Stripped of her usual weight, her bones slammed directly against the hard board without any cushioning.

The blinding pain paralyzed her for several seconds.

By the time she recovered, Yorath was already pinning her down.

He drove one knee into the mattress beside her and pressed the other heavily against her stomach, entirely neutralizing her ability to struggle.

Without a single word, he viciously tore off the rest of her clothes.

Within seconds, she was laid entirely bare beneath him.

Grabbing her discarded shirt, he forcefully bound her wrists to the metal headboard.

When she tried to kick him, he restrained her legs as well.

Then, he visually inspected every single inch of her body.

She had kept herself covered well. Her skin was smooth and pale, free of any severe injuries.

The worst damage was isolated to the lacerations on the soles of her feet and the angry, swollen handprint on her face.