Tristan didn't really understand what had just happened—but right now, the only thing he cared about was Thora's injury. "Boss, how bad is it? Does it hurt?" His tone was so worried it barely sounded like the tough guy he usually was. Ryan's thoughts were a mess. Wait—don't tell me he has feelings for Thora? No matter what, she is still my friend's mate... Before he could sort it out, someone suddenly stepped into his line of sight. The man brushed straight past him and stopped right in front of Thora. Tristan felt a chill crawl up his neck. A hand shot out, clamping around Thora's wrist, cleanly separating the two of them. In the next second, Tristan was completely blocked from view—he couldn't even see Thora's face anymore.As if that wasn't enough, the man deliberately leaned back, throwing Tristan off balance and forcing him to stumble two steps away, widening the distance between him and Thora. Tristan was furious inside. But Draven had arrived with Thora and clearly had a close relationship with her. Tristan couldn't just start a fight, so he could only glare viciously at Draven's back. What kind of person does that? "What are you doing?" Thora stared at Draven, her voice low. Draven didn't answer. His gaze was fixed solely on her injured arm. After basic treatment—and with her abnormal self-healing—the bleeding had stopped, but blood had already soaked through the bandage, the sight of it stark and unsettling. "Does it hurt?" Draven asked. Thora frowned. She glanced at her arm, then looked back up at him. "You tell me," she said flatly.Wasn't that a stupid question? With an injury like this, how could it not hurt? Draven was stunned. The grip on her wrist tightened slightly. "Don't be reckless with your life," he said coldly, enunciating every word. As he spoke, a clear, regenerative force flowed silently from the skin where they touched, seeping into Thora's arm. Thora watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she pulled her wrist free. "Thanks." Only one polite word. Nothing more. Thora's thinking was simple. Draven wasn't a threat to her right now, which meant he wasn't an enemy. And what he'd just said had been concern—so she'd responded with basic courtesy. With that, she stepped forward and rejoined Tristan and Ryan, picking up the conversation as if nothing had happened. Shirley shot Draven a strange look, then moved to Thora's side. Draven stared at his now-empty hand, then at Thora among the others. His lips pressed into a thin line. In less than 20 minutes, Thora pieced together the full route map of the island. They already had plenty of fragments. Once everything was combined, there were even extras—let alone a complete map. Suddenly, Thora's gaze flicked to the wound on her arm. It had been hurting badly just moments ago. Now ... it was noticeably better. Had her body's self-healing speed increased again? She rotated her arm slightly. The bone-deep pain from earlier was gone. She didn't dwell on it. This body's potential had always surprised her. Almost unconsciously, she turned to glance behind her—and her expression shifted. "Where's Draven?"At her question, the others followed her gaze. "Boss, you mean the masked guy?" Tristan asked. Thora nodded and scanned the area again. Draven was gone—like he'd vanished into thin air. "No idea. He was just here," Tristan said, puzzled. Since Draven had left, Thora didn't dwell on it. "Let's go. We should be heading out. We've got 12 hours until sunrise," she said firmly. "Got it." The group nodded. Ryan naturally fell in with them as well. "Thora, what about Luke and Ashton? Are we just leaving them?" Shirley pouted slightly.