Rise of the Banished She-Wolf Chapter 61

Evelyn

After dealing with all that hospital crap and family bullshit, I just needed to get away and chill. When I walked into Memory Diner and heard that little bell, I finally felt like I could relax.

Lydia looked up from behind the counter, her weathered face breaking into a warm smile when she spotted me. At eighty-six, she moved slower now, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.

"Eve!" she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron. "I was wondering when you'd visit again."

I returned her smile, feeling the tension of the past few days melting away. "Hi, Lydia."

She came around the counter, studying my face with a grandmother's scrutiny. "I've been hearing things, child. Those Gray wolves giving you trouble again?"

I straightened my shoulders, chin lifting slightly. "I can handle them now. They can't hurt me like they used to."

Lydia's eyes gleamed with approval. "Good. It's about time." She gestured toward a seat at the counter. "Sit. I'll get you some tea."

As she shuffled away, she muttered under her breath, "Karma, all of it. That family's reaping what they've sown."

The familiar scent of herbs filled my nostrils as Lydia placed a steaming mug before me. I wrapped my fingers around it, savoring the warmth.

"Lydia," I began, reaching into my bag, "I want to talk to you about something." I pulled out a folder containing detailed plans and spread them across the counter. "I'm planning to restore the old Sterling estate—Isabel's home in the outskirts."

Lydia's eyes widened as she examined the blueprints. Her son Ryan, who had been cleaning tables nearby, stopped and peered over my shoulder.

"Jesus, Eve," he whispered, pointing at the budget estimate. "This'll cost a fortune. Sixty million, at least."

"I know," I replied, flipping through the pages to reveal detailed renderings of the restored mansion. "But I've found the right company for the job. They specialize in historic properties, especially ones with... unique requirements."

Lydia's fingers trembled slightly as she traced the outline of what had once been Isabel's garden. "Only you truly understand what your grandmother left behind," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "That house holds more than just memories."

Ryan whistled low. "Where are you getting that kind of money, Eve?"

Before I could answer, the bell above the door chimed again. I turned, recognizing Lily's voice instantly.

"I'm telling you, Jack, they have the best soup in Seattle!" Lily was saying as she stepped inside, followed by Jack, Eric, and—my breath caught—Devon.

Our eyes met across the room, and that familiar electricity sparked between us. He looked tired but smiled when he saw me, his broad shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Evelyn," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

Instead of heading to the private area in the back, Devon chose a table in the main dining room.

Jack limped slightly as he made his way to the table, wincing with each step.

"You shouldn't be out of the hospital yet," Eric scolded, helping him into a chair. "Those silver wounds take time to heal properly."

"I wasn't staying in that bed another minute," Jack grumbled. "Besides, I heard this place has magical healing powers."

I exchanged a look with Lydia, who nodded subtly. I disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later with a steaming bowl of moonleaf soup, its earthy aroma filling the air.

"Healing soup," I said, placing it before Jack. "With some special herbs that will help with the silver poisoning."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "You know about that?"

"Lydia taught me," I replied, watching as he took a cautious sip. His eyes widened in surprise, then closed in appreciation.

"This is incredible," he murmured, "I can feel the pain starting to fade. Where did you learn to make this?"

"From the best," I said, nodding toward Lydia.

Jack looked at the elderly woman with newfound respect. "Ma'am, I'd love to learn your recipes someday. My family specializes in culinary arts for the pack, but this... this is something else."

Lydia's face softened. "Not many young wolves interested in the old ways of healing through food. Come by sometime, and I'll show you."

The conversation shifted back to the renovation plans still spread on the counter. Lydia disappeared briefly and returned with a small velvet pouch.

"These are from Isabel," she said, emptying several antique jewelry pieces onto the counter. "They should fetch a good price. Use them for the restoration."

"Absolutely not," I said firmly, gathering the jewelry and pressing it back into her hands. "I'll handle the funding. These belong to you."

Devon observed our interaction with interest. "What's this about restoration?"

I hesitated, then explained my plans for Isabel's old estate. Devon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving my face.

Hours later, on my way back to my apartment, Aiden called with updates about Anderson's project.

"The third test is ready," he said, his voice crackling through the speaker. "But it'll take two weeks this time."

"We'll use the Moonlight base," I decided. "And quote them one hundred million."

Aiden whistled. "That's steep."

"It's worth it to them," I replied.

Back at the apartment, an email confirmed the client's acceptance of our price. Aiden's jaw dropped. "Holy shit, they didn't even negotiate!"

"They're desperate," I explained. "Now we need to figure out how to disappear for two weeks without raising suspicions."

Aiden suggested a mobile gaming competition as cover, and I nodded in agreement.

The next morning, I visited Hall Enterprises' Special Building Design Department. Jason personally escorted me through the lobby, earning curious glances from the werewolf employees who could sense my faint wolf scent.

Professor Robert, a distinguished werewolf architect, greeted me in the conference room. After reviewing my plans, he nodded appreciatively.

"This estate was one of the oldest werewolf settlements in the Northwest," he confirmed. "It would be an honor to restore it. If I'm not mistaken, it was originally built by Sterling, the wealthy merchant."

"Yes," I replied quietly. "Isabel, my grandmother, was his descendant."

As the meeting concluded and I stepped toward the elevator, I found Devon waiting for me, his blue eyes flashing gold around the edges.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice low and intense. "Welcome."