Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130

Evelyn

I gazed out the window of Devon’s black SUV as we wound through the densely forested mountain road. Sunlight filtered through the towering pines, creating dancing patterns on the dashboard. My attention was suddenly caught by a group of ragged–looking werewolves at the roadside. Several bore visible injuries–a young woman with a bandaged arm, an older man limping heavily. My heart clenched at the sight.

“What happened to them?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice. “Those injuries look serious.”

Devon’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘Medical resources for our kind have become scarce in the Northwest territories. Most healers used to come

from your pack, but after the pack’s decline years ago, werewolf–specific medical care has become almost non–existent.”

“After my grandmother Isabel died,” I said thoughtfully, memories of her flooding back. “She was always passionate about training healers when she was

Alpha of Moonheal.”

Devon reached over, taking my hand in his. His touch sent warmth spreading through my body, momentarily distracting me from the persistent pain in my

shoulder.

I looked back at the injured werewolves we were leaving behind, then turned to face him with newfound determination. “Devon, I want to establish a treatment center here. Help treat the injured werewolves in your pack like my grandmother did.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Evelyn, that’s… that would be incredible. My resources are at your disposal if you’re serious about this.”

His immediate acceptance caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected such enthusiasm, especially considering my dormant wolf and complicated past. Before I could respond, Devon’s expression grew concerned. “But you need to heal first. You’re still recovering.”

Despite his protective words, the seed of an idea had already taken root in my mind. I nodded, gazing back at the injured werewolves disappearing behind us. Maybe there was a way I could still help my kind, even without a fully awakened wolf.

When we arrived at the Hall mansion, Lily was waiting at the entrance, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Finally!” she exclaimed, rushing forward as if to hug me,

be roomies!”

then stopping short when she noticed my bandaged shoulder. “Oops, sorry. I’m just so excited we’ll

I smiled, genuinely touched by her enthusiasm.

“Where’s Richard and everyone else?” I asked, glancing around the impressive entryway with its high ceilings and elegant decor.

“They went out early for territory inspection,” Lily explained. “They should be back around noon. Come on, let me show you around!”

Before we could move, Mrs. Whitmore appeared, her silver hair impeccably styled, her posture straight as a rod.

‘Miss Gray,” she said with a slight nod. “I’ve prepared your room on the second floor. It has a view of the forest and easy access to the medical supplies, should you need them.”

Thank you, Mrs. Whitmore, I replied, surprised by the consideration.

1/3

That evening, I made my way downstairs for a glass of water. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard raised voices from the living room.

“You little shit!” a male voice shouted, though without real anger. “Who do you think I’m doing this for? You were supposed to be there!

I hesitated, glass in hand, thinking I’d stumbled upon an argument. But then I noticed the playful gleam in Devon’s eyes and the affectionate exasperation in the expression of the man facing him–taller than Devon, with broader shoulders but the same striking eyes. It was Owen.

Devon noticed me first, his expression immediately softening. “Evelyn.”

He slipped an arm around my waist naturally, the scent of pine and wilderness enveloping me. The casual intimacy made my heart skip, and I fought the urge to lean into his touch.

Owen’s eyebrows shot up, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “I won’t intrude on your evening,” he said, backing away.

In the kitchen, Devon helped me fill my glass with water, his movements careful and protective.

‘Remember, don’t get your bandages wet,” he reminded me, gently taking the glass from my hands. “The silver damage is still healing.”

He moved behind me, arms encircling my waist, his chest warm against my back. The pine scent of him wrapped around me like a protective shield. I should

have pulled away–maintaining distance had been my survival strategy for years–but I couldn’t bring myself to break the contact.

“You should move into my bedroom,” he suggested, his voice low near my ear. “I could take better care of you there.”

I shook my head, though I didn’t pull away from his embrace. “This is enough, Devon. I… I like it here. It feels warm, like a real home.” The words slipped

out before I could censor them, revealing more vulnerability than I’d intended.

“This is your home,” he said firmly, turning me to face him. His eyes were intense, searching mine. “For as long as you want it to be. You can be part of us,

Evelyn. Part of my family.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my throat tight with emotion.

Later that night, pain seared through my shoulder like fire. The wound around my shoulder blade burned ferociously, the silver still lingering in my system making ordinary painkillers useless. I tried to muffle my whimpers into my pillow, not wanting to disturb anyone, but the agony was becoming unbearable.

I heard a soft knock, then Devon was at my door, concern etched on his face.

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