Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 96

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

My heart thundered in my chest as I sprinted down the long, sterile corridors of the hospital, the sharp scent of antiseptic stinging my nostrils. Each hurried step echoed in my ears, a frantic rhythm that matched the panic rising within me.

Marcus lingered just outside the operating room, his usually impassive expression contorted with an unmistakable anxiety. His eyes, usually so steady, glistened with unshed tears, hinting at the turmoil beneath his calm facade. It was a sight that sent a jolt of dread through me.

“Miss Evelyn,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “The old man… he’s not doing well. His wolf nature is fading. His heart… it can’t take it much longer.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. For a werewolf, particularly one as venerable and powerful as my grandfather, losing touch with the primal essence of his being was a harbinger of death. I felt a familiar tingle in my palm, a soft white glow beginning to emerge as my wolf stirred in response to my distress.

“Marcus, what happened?” I managed to ask, forcing myself to keep my voice steady despite the tempest of emotions swirling inside me. “How did he end up here?”

He turned his gaze away, unable to meet my eyes, and I could see the pain etched on his face. “It was… it was your father.”

A surge of anger ignited within me, hot and fierce. Of course, it was Jonathan. That man had been a relentless source of torment for both my grandfather and me, a constant shadow of pain in our lives.

“Ms. Gray,” a deep voice called from behind, snapping me from my thoughts.

I turned to see Jason, Devon’s beta, striding toward me with an air of purpose. His presence was a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around us.

“Mr. Hall sent me to ensure your safety,” he stated formally, his tone leaving no room for argument. “He has arranged for the best doctors in this hospital to treat your grandfather.”

Though I should have felt a flicker of gratitude for Devon’s thoughtfulness, my singular focus remained on reaching my grandfather.

“I need to see him,” I insisted, my feet already moving toward the operating room doors.

“They’re preparing him for bypass surgery,” Marcus informed me, his voice heavy with concern. “Heart attack. It’s particularly perilous for our kind because the anesthesia can hinder our ability to shift.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I pushed through the doors. Inside, I found Dr. Allen, a werewolf medical expert whom Devon had evidently contacted, gearing up for the surgery.

“Dr. Allen, I’ll assist you,” I declared, snatching a surgical gown from the nearby shelf. “This situation was triggered by external stress. I know his body better than anyone.”

Dr. Allen nodded, acknowledging my medical expertise with a hint of respect. “I’ve heard about your skills, Ms. Gray. We could certainly use your help.”

As I approached the operating table, I gazed down at my grandfather’s pallid face, a wave of determination washing over me. Despite the whirlwind of anger and fear churning inside, I steeled myself. With Dr. Allen by my side, I couldn’t afford to let my emotions cloud my judgment.

Three grueling hours later, we emerged from the operating room, fatigue enveloping me like a heavy blanket.

Before she could retort, heavy footsteps approached, and I turned to see Jonathan, my so-called father, striding toward us, fury etched into his features.

Without warning, he slapped me hard across the face, the sound reverberating through the sterile corridor.

“You ungrateful bitch,” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “If I had known you would be so disloyal to the family, I would have killed you the day you were born! The white wolf bloodline is a disgrace to our family!”

The sting of his slap was nothing compared to the inferno of rage building within me. Victoria didn’t even attempt to intervene; instead, she stepped forward, her eyes glinting with a twisted sense of righteousness.

“You need to apologize and return control of that territory to Jonathan,” she demanded, her tone imperious. “It’s the right thing to do.”

I stared at them, feeling something primal stir within me. My father had just confessed that he would have murdered me as a helpless infant if he had known I wouldn’t be his obedient puppet.

“And if I say no?” I growled, an unfamiliar sensation coursing through me as my eyes flickered with a brilliant white light. My inner wolf, long dormant, was awakening, responding fiercely to the threat and insult.

Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly at the shift in my demeanor. He had expected the subdued, compliant daughter he had cast aside three years ago. Instead, he was confronted by a woman who had thrived without him, without the pack.

I felt a dangerous exhilaration, a thrilling rush that was both foreign and intoxicating. Was my wolf finally returning?