Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 63

63 /221

**Where Falling Leaves Whisper Stories Written In Silence by Ryn Jace Reed**
**Chapter 63: Rise of the Banished She-Wolf**

**Evelyn**

I sprinted down the sterile hospital corridor, my heart racing like a wild drum in my chest. Time was not on our side. Jack’s life was precariously balanced, teetering on the edge of despair, and that menacing silver fragment was inching closer to his heart with every agonizing beat.

“Prep OR three,” I commanded, my voice firm and resolute as I stripped off my drenched clothes in the cramped locker room. “And I need a complete silver extraction kit.”

The shower I took felt like a blur, a frantic rush to cleanse away the saltwater that clung to my skin like a shroud. In less than ten minutes, I emerged, sterilized and dried, slipping into the crisp surgical scrubs that felt both foreign and familiar. My mind raced with the details of the procedure ahead—I would have to open his chest cavity, locate that treacherous fragment without making direct contact, and extract it before the silver poisoning could spread its lethal grip further.

As I stepped into the pre-op area, I was confronted by a middle-aged man in scrubs, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest, blocking my path like a stubborn boulder.

“You’re the surgeon?” he asked, disbelief dripping from his words like venom. “You’re just a college student! Have you lost your mind?”

I held his gaze, unwavering and fierce. “I’m the only one here who can save him. There’s a silver fragment lodged in his chest cavity, and every moment we waste arguing is a moment closer to death for him.”

He scoffed, dismissing my urgency. “This is absurd. I’ve been head of surgery for fifteen years—”

“Then you should know better,” I interrupted, my voice dropping to an intimidating whisper. “Devon, I need a different surgeon.”

Without hesitation, Devon nodded and pulled the man aside, allowing me to continue my preparations. Through the glass window, I caught a glimpse of Jack’s pale face, his breaths shallow and erratic. Silver poisoning was merciless, especially in young werewolves like him, and time was slipping away faster than I could bear.

Just as I was about to step into the operating room, chaos erupted in the hallway. A tall, broad-shouldered man in military fatigues burst through the doors, followed closely by Devon, who looked both relieved and anxious.

“This is Philip Swift, Jack’s father,” Devon introduced, urgency in his tone. “He’s brought someone who can help.”

Behind Philip stood a serious-looking man in his forties, carrying a medical bag that seemed to hold the weight of hope.

“This is Dr. Reeves,” Mr. Swift said, his voice laced with desperation. “He’s a military surgeon… and one of us. He knows how to treat silver wounds.”

A wave of relief washed over me at the sight of this unexpected ally. “Good. We need all the help we can get.”

Once inside the OR, I wasted no time in establishing our roles. “I’ll extract the silver fragment,” I instructed Dr. Reeves, my voice steady despite the chaos. “You focus on repairing the damaged tissue. The silver’s nearly reached his heart.”

“Understood,” he replied, his gaze fixed on me with a mix of curiosity and respect.

I made the first incision with hands that trembled only slightly. Blood welled up immediately, a stark reminder of the urgency of our situation. The monitors beeped ominously, indicating that Jack’s heartbeat was weakening with each passing second.

“His BP’s dropping,” Dr. Reeves warned, urgency creeping into his voice.

“I see it,” I replied, my focus narrowing as I worked faster, my mind a whirlwind of determination and fear.

When I finally located the silver fragment, my heart sank. It was worse than I had feared; a jagged piece had broken off and was floating perilously close to a heart valve. Just as I maneuvered my instruments to grasp it, the unthinkable happened—Jack’s heart came to a sudden halt.

“Cardiac arrest!” Dr. Reeves shouted, his tone sharp and commanding.

In an instant, blood sprayed across my face as an artery ruptured, but I refused to flinch. I couldn’t afford to lose my resolve—not now, not when Jack’s life was hanging by a thread.