Rise of the Banished She-Wolf Chapter 74

Evelyn

The next afternoon, Charles's guards showed up at my cabin door as expected, ready to escort me to him.

I stared at Charles's smug face as he gestured toward the elegantly set table on the yacht's dining deck. Four armed guards stood at each corner of the room, their eyes never leaving me.

"Join me for lunch, Ms. Gray," Charles said, his voice deceptively pleasant. "I insist."

"I'd rather starve," I replied, crossing my arms.

His smile didn't waver, but his eyes hardened. "Impressive surgery—you extracted those particles perfectly. But the silver poison already dissolved in her bloodstream will re-form within 24 hours without my cure. She'll be caught between living and dying, in constant torment." He checked his platinum watch.

My fists clenched at my sides. This bastard knew exactly which buttons to push. Aileen was innocent in all this—just a human girl caught in our supernatural war.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, pulling out the chair across from him. "But don't mistake this for surrender."

Charles snapped his fingers, and waiters appeared with covered silver platters. The irony wasn't lost on me—silver serving dishes for a werewolf guest.

As they unveiled the food, I studied each dish with suspicion.

"Truffled ribeye with Beluga caviar, and a bottle of Château d'Yquem Sauternes? You're really wasting your money here," I said mockingly, not touching anything.

Charles beamed as if I'd paid him a compliment. "This is just the tip of the iceberg, my dear. If you were mine, you'd enjoy much more than this."

He cut into his steak and took a bite, savoring it with closed eyes. Then he reached over with his fork, offering me a piece from his own plate.

I watched him carefully. If he was willing to eat it first, maybe it wasn't drugged.

When he turned to pour the wine, I quickly grabbed the plate with his half-eaten steak and stood.

"Thanks for the meat, Charles. Enjoy your meal!" I said, backing toward the door.

His expression darkened. "Sit down, Evelyn."

"I'll eat in my room. I prefer dining alone."

Before he could stop me, I slipped past the guards and into the corridor. As I walked away, I heard Victor, Charles's right-hand man, speaking in the dining room.

"She's too defiant, sir. This one needs to be taught respect."

Charles's reply sent a chill down my spine. "I've become quite skilled at training disobedient wolves, Victor. It's almost an art form."

I quickened my pace, my back tingling with dread. Whatever "training" methods he had in mind, I had no intention of experiencing them.

I found Taylor in a small cabin under heavy guard. The cabin was just as heavily guarded, with two wearing strange tinted glasses that reflected light oddly. I suspected they were specially designed to detect werewolf eye-shine.

"Brought you lunch," I said, sliding the plate toward him before checking it.

Taylor looked terrible—dark circles under his eyes, skin pale. "They won't let me see Aileen," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "Is she okay?"

"She's stable for now," I replied quietly, aware of the guards listening. "I did what I could, but she needs more time to recover."

He picked at the steak, clearly having no appetite. "This is all my fault. I should have protected her better."

"Don't try anything stupid," I warned, sensing his desperation. "This boat is crawling with armed guards, and we're miles from shore."

I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a whisper only a werewolf could hear. "Did you manage to use the watch?"

Taylor's eyes widened slightly before he gave a small nod. "I tried to use it earlier. Connected for a bit, but our position keeps changing."

"That's actually good," I whispered. "Keep trying whenever you can."

One of the guards stepped forward. "Time's up. Mr. Ashford wants you in the medical bay, Ms. Gray."

I squeezed Taylor's hand reassuringly before standing. "I'll check on you later."

As we walked along the outer corridor toward the medical bay, a sickening coppery scent hit my nostrils. Blood—a lot of it. I moved to the railing and peered out at the water.

About twenty yards from the yacht, something pale bobbed in the waves. The shape was unmistakable—a human body, face down in the water, long blonde hair spread out like seaweed.

"What the hell?" I gasped, instinctively moving toward the emergency call button.

One guard grabbed my arm, yanking me back roughly. "Mind your own business."

"There's someone in the water! We need to help them!"

The guard's grip tightened painfully. "Mind. Your. Own. Business. What happens outside this boat is not your concern."

I wrenched my arm free, glaring at him. "That's a person out there!"

"Not anymore," the second guard said coldly. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll forget what you saw. Mind yourself, Ms. Gray, or you'll be the next one swimming with the fishes."

The casual way he threatened me confirmed my suspicions. The body in the water wasn't an accident—it was disposal.

"That's a young woman out there," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Probably drained of blood by your boss. How many has he killed?"

The guard's expression remained impassive. "Mr. Ashford doesn't kill anyone who doesn't offer themselves willingly."

"And you believe that makes it okay? What kind of monsters are you?" I demanded, disgust rising in my throat.

"The kind who want to stay alive," the older guard replied, his voice tired and hollow. "Those girls aren't forced. They come to him for money or eternal life or whatever fantasy he's selling. Not worth your pity."

"And you? What's your excuse?"

He shrugged. "Staying alive is enough these days."

As we continued toward the medical bay, I couldn't get the image of the floating body out of my mind. The dead girl looked barely twenty—someone's daughter, sister, friend—discarded like trash after Charles had taken what he wanted.

The medical bay was state-of-the-art, but instead of bringing comfort, it only heightened my anxiety. Equipment for blood analysis was set up on one counter, with empty vials labeled with my name.

"Mr. Ashford wants samples of your white wolf blood," the guard explained. "He believes it contains special properties."

I sat rigidly on the examination table, watching the door for Charles or his medical staff. Before they arrived, I tapped a pattern on the metal table—three short, three long, three short. The old SOS signal that Taylor would recognize if he was listening.

These monsters had no idea what they were dealing with. I might be their captive for now, but I was far from helpless. And the moment they let their guard down, they'd learn exactly how dangerous a cornered white wolf could be.