I Rejected My Obsessive Werebeast novel Chapter 99

The next morning, the three of us sat in the living room. Coffee untouched on the table. Files spread across every surface.

Kane started.

“Here’s where we stand.”

He held up one finger. “Lucien is in prison. But his network outside is still active–they sent that email, they coerced a witness into disappearing. They’re organised. They’re operational.”

Two fingers. “A group of shifters are still missing. We don’t know where they are, we don’t know if they’re alive. Finding them is the only way to complete the evidence chain and nail the experimentation charge.”

Three fingers. “Jessica keeps posting. Keeps twisting the narrative. It’s civil defamation at worst, and we don’t have enough to push criminal charges, Not yet.”

Four fingers. “The justice system may be compromised. Someone inside took Lucien’s money. That means every move we make from here on needs to stay quiet. If word leaks, they’ll scatter.”

He let his hand drop. Looked at both of us.

Silas hadn’t moved. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. But his tiger ears were forward–alert, listening to everything.

Kane reached for the stack of papers on the coffee table and spread them

out.

“The foundation’s been pulling leads. We’ve got eyewitness reports–people

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who’ve seen unfamiliar figures in black clothing, moving through the industrial district at night. Multiple sightings. Same area.” He tapped one the reports. “Witnesses describe vehicles arriving late, leaving before dawn. Sound carrying from inside abandoned warehouses. One person claims they heard voices–inuffled, like people calling for help.”

He looked up.

“The old industrial zone covers a huge area. Dozens of disused factories, warehouses, storage yards. Going in with a full raid would be reckless. We’d tip them off before we got within a block.”

Silas uncrossed his arms. Lean forward.

“Small–scale reconnaissance. Nighttime. I go in alone, scout the perimeter confirm whether there’s activity worth pursuing.” He turned to me. “You stay out of it. This isn’t a place for you to be.”

I shook my head before he finished the sentence.

“I’m going

His jaw tightened.

“I know every detail of this case. Every transport route, every warehouse layout, every victim profile. If there’s anything on the ground that connects to the missing shifters, I’m the one who’ll recognise it.” I held his gaze. “We’re not storming in blind. We stay in contact with the Bureau the entire time. If anything goes wrong, we pull out and call for backup. No heroics.”

Silas stared at me. A long, quiet moment.

I could see the conflict in his face–the instinct to shield me warring with the knowledge that I was right.

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Finally, he nodded. Once. Slow.

The meeting ended as evening settled over the city.

Kane left with a stack of copies and a promise to coordinate with the Bureau’s tactical team on standby. The apartment went quiet. The hum of the refrigerator. The distant sound of traffic.

We both knew. The quiet life we’d tasted in that small town–the fireplace, the hot broth, the auntie’s warm kitchen–that was a detour. Not the

destination.

Lucien was still in his cell. His people were still moving in the shadows. The missing shifters were still out there, wherever “there” was.

Nothing was resolved. Only delayed.

That night, in bed, Silas held me tighter than usual.

His arm was a band around my waist. His face was pressed into my hair. I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing–slow, controlled, but not asleep.

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