Chapter 10
Evelyn
With a resigned sigh, I slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open, revealing my humble temporary home. The small room contained just a twin bed with a faded comforter, a rickety desk, and a chair that looked like it might collapse under any significant weight. The bathroom door was visible on the far wall, slightly ajar to reveal chipped tiles and a shower curtain that had seen better days.
Devon stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his tall frame making the room seem even smaller than it was. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed my living conditions, taking in the water stains on the ceiling and the single window with its flimsy lock.
"This is where you've been staying?" His tone was neutral, but I could sense the judgment beneath it.
"It's temporary," I said defensively, leaning against the doorframe rather than entering fully. Keeping some distance between us felt necessary. "I told you, I'm looking for something more permanent."
Devon moved to the window and tested it, pushing upward. It slid open with barely any resistance. "This lock is useless," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "Anyone could get in here with minimal effort."
I crossed my arms. "I've managed fine so far."
He turned to face me, his expression serious. "This place isn't safe for someone like you."
"Someone like me?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow.
"A lone wolf with enemies," he clarified. "Those men who attacked me that night in Portland were carrying silver bullets. They're hunters, Evelyn. And if they tracked me to Seattle, they might track you too."
I wanted to argue, but the logic was sound. Silver bullets meant werewolf hunters, and they rarely stopped until they'd eliminated their targets. Still, I wasn't about to admit he was right.
Devon continued his inspection, checking the door's flimsy chain lock and the bathroom window, which also opened far too easily. When he returned to the main room, his decision seemed made.
"Pack your things," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I have a safer place for you to stay."
I stood my ground. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Hall, but I can take care of myself."
His eyes flashed with a hint of alpha power, not enough to compel me but enough to make his frustration clear. "This isn't about your independence. It's about practical safety. This motel room might as well have a welcome sign for hunters."
We stared at each other for a tense moment. Part of me wanted to refuse on principle - I'd survived three years on my own, after all. But another part, the rational part, knew he was right. This room was laughably insecure.
"If anything happens," Devon added, his voice softening slightly, "you won't be able to protect yourself here. And I owe you my life, remember?"
That last comment tipped the scales. Not because I wanted him to repay any debt, but because it reminded me that my safety affected others now. If hunters came for me here, innocent humans at the motel could be caught in the crossfire.
"Fine," I conceded with a sigh. "Where did you have in mind?"
The Moon Bay Apartments were nothing short of stunning. Located in downtown Seattle's most exclusive district, the gleaming high-rise towered above the surrounding buildings, its glass exterior reflecting the cloudy sky. A uniformed doorman greeted Devon by name as we entered the marble-floored lobby.
"Good evening, Mr. Hall," the man said with deference.
Devon nodded in acknowledgment as he guided me toward the private elevators. I couldn't help but feel out of place in my simple jeans and sweater, especially next to Devon in his perfectly tailored suit.
"Most of the building's residents are wealthy humans," Devon explained as the elevator ascended smoothly. "But the security system has been specially designed with our kind in mind."
The elevator opened directly into a spacious apartment on the 30th floor. The space was modern and minimalist, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Seattle's skyline and Elliott Bay beyond. The furniture looked expensive but comfortable - a large sectional sofa, glass coffee table, and entertainment system dominated the living area.
"This is one of several units I keep in the building," Devon said, watching my reaction carefully. "It's vacant at the moment, so it's perfect for someone who needs security and privacy."
I walked slowly around the space, taking it all in. The kitchen was state-of-the-art with gleaming stainless steel appliances. A hallway presumably led to bedrooms and bathrooms. Everything was immaculate, as though a cleaning service had just finished.
"The windows and doors are reinforced," Devon continued, pointing to the nearly invisible seams. "They can withstand significant force and are lined with a special material that helps block silver particulates from entering."
I ran my fingers along the window frame, noticing the unusual density of the glass. "Rich people really do live in a different world," I muttered. "Even your doors and windows can repel silver weapons."
"It's not about wealth," Devon replied, though we both knew that was only partly true. "It's about necessity. Our kind needs these protections."
I turned to face him, still struggling to understand his motives. "Why are you doing this? Why help me?"
Before he could answer, his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, checked the screen, and frowned. "I need to take this." He stepped away, speaking in low, urgent tones.
When he returned, his expression was tense. "I have to go. There's an emergency at the company." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "I will bring you keys and basic supplies tomorrow morning. Lock the door behind me."
Just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the luxurious apartment. I stood in the center of the living room, feeling both grateful and suspicious. What did Devon Hall really want from me? Nobody did something this generous without expecting something in return.
I walked to the windows, looking out at the city lights beginning to twinkle as dusk fell. The view was spectacular, but all I could think about was how different this was from the life I'd built for myself over the past three years. Independent, anonymous, answering to no one.
"What do you really want from me, Devon Hall?" I whispered to the empty apartment.