Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 52

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

**Chapter 52**

**Evelyn**

As I opened my eyes, a wave of disorientation washed over me, the sunlight filtering through curtains I didn’t recognize. For a fleeting moment, panic gripped my heart, but then I caught a whiff of Devon’s familiar scent lingering in the sheets, grounding me in reality.

“Shit. I’m in Devon’s bedroom,” I thought, my mind racing as the memories of the previous night surged back. I had been tending to his wounds, and somewhere along the way, fatigue had claimed me.

Glimpsing the digital clock perched on the nightstand, I was jolted by the time—11:24 AM.

“Crap!” I exclaimed, springing from the bed. Lily’s birthday celebration was set to kick off at noon, and I was woefully unprepared.

I hurried out of the bedroom, my heart pounding, and found Devon lounging on the couch, casually dressed in dark jeans and a navy button-down that accentuated his broad shoulders. He was engrossed in his tablet, looking like a man who had fully recovered from the wounded wolf that had collapsed on my sofa just hours before.

“Good morning, Evelyn,” he greeted, his eyes still glued to the screen, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Or should I say good afternoon?”

Heat crept into my cheeks. “I need to go. Lily’s birthday—”

“Is in thirty minutes, I know,” he interjected, finally looking up. His piercing blue eyes swept over me, assessing me from head to toe. “But don’t fret. We have time.”

“We?” I echoed, crossing my arms defensively, a slight frown creasing my brow.

“I’m Lily’s uncle. Did you think I wouldn’t be there?” A playful half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, sending an unexpected flutter through my stomach. “Besides, I thought you might need these.”

He gestured toward several garment bags hanging by the door—bags I had completely overlooked in my panic.

“What are those?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“Options,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I had Olivia send over some dresses that might fit you. I figured you wouldn’t have time to go home and change.”

I stared at him, torn between gratitude for his thoughtfulness and annoyance at his presumptuousness. “I don’t usually wear dresses.”

“I know,” he said, his gaze steady. “But you don’t have to wear jeans all the time either.”

Reluctantly, I unzipped the first bag, revealing a sleek black dress that clung to the hanger like it was waiting for a moment to shine. The second bag held a deep green cocktail dress, and the third contained a shimmering silver-blue number that seemed to mirror the color of my eyes.

“Take your time,” Devon said, returning to his tablet, giving me the space I needed.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom, clad in the silver-blue dress, feeling both beautiful and vulnerable. The fabric hugged my curves in a way I wasn’t accustomed to, leaving me feeling exposed.

Devon looked up, his tablet forgotten in his hands, and for a heartbeat, the room fell silent. Something flickered in his eyes—an intense appreciation that made my wolf stir beneath my skin.

“I don’t know about this,” I mumbled, nervously tugging at the hem of the dress. “I’m not used to wearing things like this.”

Devon set his tablet aside and stood, moving toward me with deliberate slowness. “You look beautiful, Evelyn.” His voice dropped an octave, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. “But if you’re uncomfortable, you can choose another.”

“It’s not that,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just… people will stare.”

“People always stare at remarkable things,” he replied, reaching out to tuck a damp strand of hair behind my ear. “And you are truly breathtaking.”

The drive to the hotel was surprisingly swift, Devon’s sleek SUV slicing through Seattle traffic with the same effortless precision he seemed to apply to every aspect of his life.

As we approached the Silver Pine Hotel, a wave of anxiety crashed over me. “There will be a lot of people here, won’t there?” I asked, my voice tinged with apprehension.

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