Rise of the Banished She-Wolf Chapter 134

Evelyn

Gregory raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his expensive suit rustling with the movement. "I came to apologize," he said, his voice lower than I remembered, tinged with what sounded like genuine remorse. "What happened last time... the way my men treated this place, the things I said... I'm sorry for all of it. I hope you can forgive me."

I studied his face, searching for signs of deception. Antagonizing him would only escalate tensions, yet I wasn't ready to accept his apology at face value.

"I appreciate you coming all this way to say that," I replied evenly, gesturing to the chair opposite mine. "Please, have a seat."

Gregory nodded, settling into the chair with surprising grace for a man his size. The air between us hung heavy with unspoken history and suspicion. I reached for the teapot that Lydia had left earlier.

"Tea?" I offered, pouring without waiting for his answer. The rich aroma of Earl Grey filled the space between us, mingling with the faint scent of pine that seemed to follow Gregory.

He accepted the cup with a nod. "Thank you."

We sipped in silence for a moment, the tension gradually dissolving with each passing second. Finally, Gregory set his cup down with a soft clink.

"I didn't come to Sterling Mansion with malicious intent," he began, his eyes growing distant as if recalling memories long buried. "I only wanted to clear things up about the past."

I raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue.

"Years ago, the Moonheal pack was declining. Isabel suggested we leave and gave us money to start anew elsewhere." His fingers traced the rim of his teacup. "But my father always told us that our home was here. That's why I came back—to see what remained of our heritage."

The revelation struck me like a physical blow. I'd never known about this connection between Gregory's family and mine. "I didn't realize there was such history between our families."

"Few remember it now," Gregory admitted. "Most of those who knew have passed on."

I set my cup down and stood. "Wait here a moment. I'd like to show you something."

In Isabel's study, I retrieved a yellowed photograph I'd discovered while organizing her belongings. When I returned, I placed it before Gregory. The image showed a group of young werewolves standing before Sterling Mansion, their faces bright with youth and hope.

Gregory's breath caught. "Where did you find this?" His fingers trembled slightly as he touched the faces in the photograph.

"Isabel kept it in her private collection." I watched as recognition dawned in his eyes. "Is that your father?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. And that's Isabel, standing next to him. They had a lovely family once, before..." He trailed off, lost in memories. "My father has passed too. Only photographs like this bring back fragments of those early days."

Something in his expression softened my resolve. "I understand wanting to preserve your connection to this place. It means something to me too."

"Isabel must have raised you well," Gregory said, studying me with new appreciation. "The way you defended this place—it reminded me of her."

"Everything I am today, I owe to her guidance," I admitted.

Gregory nodded thoughtfully. "The territory in Eastern Europe belongs to me now. I propose to share it with you—I'll give you three-tenths of my territory there."

I blinked in surprise. "That's... unexpectedly generous."

He shrugged. "I'm not the monster you thought me to be. I understand the value of cooperation over conflict."

For the first time, I could see how this man had become an Alpha of his own pack. There was wisdom beneath his gruff exterior—a willingness to compromise that many leaders lacked.

"I think Lydia would like to see you," I said suddenly.

I led him through the mansion to the kitchen where Lydia was preparing dinner. When she saw Gregory, her wooden spoon clattered to the floor.

"Gregory Sterling! What are you doing back in my kitchen?" she demanded, eyes flashing with anger.

"Lydia," he acknowledged with an unexpected bow of his head. "I've come to make amends."

"After what you did last time? Breaking my dishes and threatening my staff?" Her voice trembled with indignation.

"I was wrong," Gregory admitted. "I apologize for my behavior."

Lydia looked between us in confusion before her expression softened slightly. "Well. At least you've learned some manners since I last saw you."

I moved to stand beside Lydia, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Gregory has been telling me about the history between our families. Things I never knew."

Lydia's gaze softened as she looked at me. "You're doing very well, Evelyn. Just like Isabel would do."

I leaned against her shoulder, feeling a rush of affection for this woman who had been my constant through so much upheaval. "No, Lydia. You're the remarkable one. You've guarded the Sterling legacy all these years."

Lydia's weathered hand came up to stroke my hair, a gesture so familiar it made my chest ache with tenderness.

---

That evening, after Gregory had left and the mansion had quieted, I called Devon. This new development with Gregory warranted his attention, especially given our concerns about The Crimson organization.

I was drying my hair when Devon arrived, slipping into my room like a shadow. His arms encircled my waist from behind, his lips pressing against my forehead in greeting.

"You're already showered and waiting for me," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my skin. "I should be flattered."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "You're late. I was getting ready for bed."

"If I'd arrived any earlier, you might have still been in the shower." His fingers traced lazy circles on my hip. "And I don't think I could have resisted joining you."

The blush spread down my neck at his words, and I swatted his hand playfully. "Stop teasing me."

Devon chuckled, turning me to face him. "What did you need to tell me that couldn't wait until morning?"

I switched off the hairdryer, setting it aside. "Gregory came today. For reconciliation, not confrontation."

Devon's expression darkened instantly. "What did he want?"

"He apologized for his previous behavior and shared some history about his family's connection to Isabel." I recounted our conversation, watching Devon's face carefully. "He seemed sincere, but..."

"But you're wondering why the sudden change of heart," Devon finished.

I nodded. "Aiden told me that people connected to The Crimson have been approaching him recently. I don't know if Gregory is involved with them, or why he suddenly wants peace."

Devon's jaw tightened. "So you're planning to play along, keep him close while we figure out his real motives."

"Yes." I met his gaze steadily. "Do you think that's a mistake?"

Devon considered for a moment. "The fact that The Crimson approached you directly instead of through him suggests they're working independently. Gregory might genuinely want to distance himself from them."

"You think I could use him to find out who's behind The Crimson?" I asked, surprised by the suggestion.

"Possibly." Devon's fingers traced the line of my jaw. "But you need to be careful. Any move you make, tell me first. Promise me that, Evelyn."

I cupped his face in my hands and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I promise."

Devon's eyes darkened at the contact, and for a moment, I thought he might pull me closer. Instead, he brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch feather-light.