Rise of the Banished She-Wolf Chapter 72

Evelyn

In my years as Aurora, I'd dealt with some of the world's most dangerous individuals, and Charles Ashford was among the worst—a notorious predator with a reputation for collecting beautiful women.

"Aurora," he greeted, his voice silky smooth.

Under the moonlight, his skin appeared unnaturally pale, almost translucent, and his eyes reflected an unnatural reddish glow. My wolf instincts screamed danger, even though my own wolf remained frustratingly dormant.

"Ashford," I replied coldly. "I should have destroyed your empire when I had the chance."

He laughed, the sound echoing across the beach. "Always so feisty. I've been looking for you for years, and now here you are—delivered right to me."

Taylor growled beside me, his muscles tensing for a fight. I placed a restraining hand on his arm, feeling his skin hot with fury beneath my palm.

"What do you want?" I asked, though I already knew.

Charles gestured toward a beautifully set table on the beach, complete with candles and fine china. "I thought we might have dinner first. Get reacquainted."

"I'm not hungry."

"No?" His smile widened, revealing teeth too white, too perfect. "Perhaps you'll change your mind when I tell you my yacht has a fully equipped medical bay. Your little friend doesn't look like she'll make it through the night without proper care."

My jaw clenched. Aileen was barely breathing, her skin ashen from blood loss and silver poisoning.

"Fine. But our business ends there," I said through gritted teeth. Saving Aileen was the priority.

Charles extended his hand as if we were making a cordial business agreement. "Shall we?"

I ignored his hand and walked toward the table, but not before catching Taylor's eye and giving him the slightest nod—our signal to be ready for anything.

---

The dinner table was set with expensive crystal and silverware that gleamed in the moonlight. A steaming bowl of soup sat in front of my place setting, its aroma rich and inviting. Too inviting.

"Please, eat," Charles urged, cutting into a thick steak on his own plate. "The soup is a special recipe."

I studied the soup carefully, noticing the faint silver shimmer just beneath the surface—tiny parasites similar to the ones Morgan had used on Taylor. My stomach turned.

"I'm not particularly fond of soup," I said, deliberately tipping the bowl onto the table. The liquid spread across the white tablecloth, the silver parasites writhing visibly now. "Is this how you welcome all your guests, Mr. Ashford?"

Charles didn't even flinch at the ruined tablecloth. "A pity—I thought we might start our relationship on better terms."

"We don't have a relationship."

"Not yet," he agreed, cutting a small piece of his steak and extending it toward me on his fork. "Try this instead. It's perfectly safe."

When I didn't move, his expression hardened. He rose from his chair and walked to my side, gripping my chin with one hand and holding the fork to my lips with the other.

"Your friend's survival depends entirely on your cooperation right now," he said softly. "This isn't poisoned. Consider it a gesture of good faith."

I glared up at him, hatred burning in my chest, but opened my mouth. The moment the meat touched my tongue, I knew I'd made a mistake. There was something wrong with it—not poison exactly, but something else. Something that made my head swim.

Charles laughed, the sound distant and echoing. "Take them all aboard," he commanded to someone behind me.

I spat the meat onto the sand, but it was too late. Whatever drug he'd used was already taking effect, making the world tilt and blur around me.

---

The moment I came to, I knew I had to operate on Aileen immediately. The yacht's medical bay was state-of-the-art. I worked alone, fighting through the lingering effects of the drug as I treated her. Her condition was critical—silver particles had entered her bloodstream and were attacking her vital organs.

The surgery took over four hours. By the end, my hands were shaking from exhaustion, but Aileen was stable. The silver was removed, her wounds cleaned and closed, and healing herbs applied to speed her recovery.

"Remarkable," Charles commented from the doorway where he'd been watching. "Truly remarkable skills."

I ignored him, washing blood from my hands in the sink.

"My men say you worked without reference materials or assistance," he continued. "I don't think even the best human surgeons could have saved her."

"I'm not doing this for your admiration," I snapped.

"No." His voice dropped lower. "You're doing it because you care for these people. Admirable, but foolish. You should never let anyone know what you truly value, Evelyn. It makes you vulnerable."

I turned to face him, too tired to maintain my guard. "What do you want from me, Charles?"

"I think you know." His eyes flashed that unnatural red again. "You should have been mine from the beginning. Your skills, your intelligence, your beauty—they belong with me."

"I don't belong to anyone."

He stepped closer, and I forced myself not to back away. "I know you're Aurora, the legendary hacker. I need your skills. And I know what you are—a white wolf, the rarest of your kind. I need that too."

"For what purpose?"

"That's for me to know." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "But I'll tell you what I'm offering: become my wife, and your friends will leave this ship alive. Refuse, and, well..." He shrugged. "The ocean is very deep."

The clinical detachment in his voice sent ice through my veins. This wasn't just a human criminal—Charles was something else entirely. Something inhuman.

"You have until tomorrow morning to decide," he said, turning to leave. "Choose wisely, my dear."

---

Taylor's face was ashen when he entered Aileen's room an hour later. His eyes immediately went to her still form on the bed, monitors beeping steadily beside her.

"Is she...?" he couldn't finish the question.

"She'll live," I assured him. "The silver's out of her system. She needs rest now."

His shoulders sagged with relief before tension took over again. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't insisted on bringing her to the tournament—"

"Stop," I cut him off. "This isn't your fault. It's Ashford's."

I glanced at the security camera in the corner, then leaned close to Taylor, speaking in a whisper.

"We need to find a way off this ship. Ashford wants me to work for him and..." I hesitated, "...belong to him. Permanently."

Taylor's eyes flashed gold with fury. "That's not happening. We're getting out of here—all of us."

I pressed my tracking watch into his palm. "Try to send a location signal to Edward. The yacht's systems might be blocking transmissions, but this watch has specialized tech."

Before Taylor could respond, the door burst open. Two armed guards entered, followed by one of Charles's assistants.

"Mr. Ashford requests that the patient's visitors be relocated to separate quarters," the assistant announced coldly.

Taylor protested, but the guards already had their hands on his arms.

"It's okay," I told him, trying to project confidence I didn't feel. "I'll stay with Aileen. I'll be fine."

As they dragged Taylor away, his eyes met mine one last time—a promise that he wouldn't give up. I nodded slightly, then turned back to Aileen's bedside, my mind racing through potential escape plans.

From the security monitor on the wall, I could see Charles watching us from his control room, a satisfied smile on his face. He thought he had me trapped, cornered, with no choice but to accept his offer.

He was wrong. I'd faced worse odds before.

I just needed time to figure out how to save us all.