Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 19

**Where Falling Leaves Whisper Stories Written In Silence by Ryn Jace Reed**

**Chapter 19**

Evelyn

The voice on the other end was firm, unwavering, and left no space for negotiation. In that moment, I felt the weight of inevitability pressing down on me, forcing my hand.

“Cornerstone Café,” I snapped, my irritation bubbling to the surface, before I abruptly ended the call.

As I returned to our table, I could feel Aiden’s intense gaze on me, his sharp eyes scanning my expression as if he were attempting to decipher a complex puzzle hidden within my mind.

“Aurora, what just happened? Who was that?” His voice was low, almost conspiratorial, fingers tapping lightly on the table, revealing his concern.

With a resigned sigh, I switched my phone to silent and tucked it into my pocket, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on my shoulders. “It’s someone from Seattle… a friend. He’s insistent on coming here to see me. I’m really sorry, but it looks like I won’t be able to show you around Seattle tonight after all.”

Aiden narrowed his eyes, his expression turning serious as he scrutinized my reaction. “Is this someone from the pack? Does he know about your ‘Aurora’ identity?”

I shook my head vehemently, my heart racing in response to the implications of his questions. “He’s a local figure, but he absolutely doesn’t know that I’m Aurora, and he can never find out.”

Glancing at my watch, I felt a sense of urgency wash over me; time was slipping away. “You should leave now. He’ll be here soon. And please, remember to send those files to my encrypted email.”

Aiden stood, his posture reflecting a mix of concern and determination. “Take care, Aurora. If you find yourself in any trouble, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.”

After he departed, I sat alone with a glass of red wine, the rich aroma swirling around me as I pondered how to navigate the impending arrival of Devon.

“What?” I exclaimed, shock washing over me. “I don’t need a check-up. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Your wound isn’t healing as well as you believe,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And consuming alcohol with silver still in your system is dangerous. You’re coming with me, now.” The fierce determination in his eyes made it clear that this was not a mere suggestion.

Though I wanted to protest, I found myself powerless as Devon had already settled the bill, practically ushering me out of the café. His hand grasped my arm with a firm but not painful grip, enough to ensure I couldn’t pull away.

Once inside his luxurious black sedan, the engine roared to life, and the interior quickly filled with his scent—an intoxicating mix of cedar and something distinctly him—making me feel both secure and uncomfortably confined.

“I heard about what happened at the university today,” he said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as we pulled away from the curb. “Why on earth would you plagiarize someone else’s code? That doesn’t seem like you.”

I turned my gaze to the window, my jaw clenched tightly in frustration. “You don’t know anything about me, Mr. Hall. And I didn’t plagiarize anything.”