I Rejected My Obsessive Werebeast novel Chapter 94

Chapter 94

“You’re hurt.” My chest tightened.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry.” His voice was rough, his whole body

trembling slightly–not from fear, but from the toll of fighting the flood and the blood loss. His hands kept moving over me, checking from head to

toe, pressing along my arms, my legs. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did anything cut you?”

The water level was still rising. The stone wall groaned under the relentless pressure, a dangerous creaking sound that meant it wouldn’t hold much longer.

The town’s emergency sirens wailed faintly through the storm, but the flood had cut off access to this street. Rescue teams couldn’t reach us.

We were trapped. Alone.

Silas looked down at me, rain dripping from his jaw in a steady stream.

“Aurora, listen to me. If the wall gives way, I’m taking you up the stairs to higher ground. No matter what happens, hold onto me. Don’t let go.” He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes deadly serious.

I stared into his rain–soaked eyes and nodded hard, wrapping my arms around his neck with all my strength. Outside, disaster raged. At that ‘moment, he was all I had.

Then came the sound–stone cracking, a sharp, splitting roar. Fractures raced across the wall’s surface like lightning.

“It’s going!” Silas growled.

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Chap 94

The wall exploded outward. The flood surged toward us in a wall of brown water. Silas swept me into his arms in one motion, every ounce of has S–class–strength unleashed, and launched himself toward the high steps of a building to our side.

Debris battered his legs, but he didn’t slow down.

His foot slipped on landing, his body lurching sideways, but he kept me locked against his chest, not letting me touch the churning water below.

We made it to the elevated platform, out of the flood’s direct path.

The moment he set me down, Silas’s legs buckled. He nearly collapsed, catching himself against the wall with one arm. Blood was flowing more heavily from the wounds on his back, soaking through his shirt in dark, spreading stains.

The rain was still falling, but the main force of the flood had already surged past, tearing down the street in a brown, churning river. The second–floor platform was crowded with displaced residents and tourists. everyone soaked to the bone, faces pale with shock.

I steadied Silas and guided him against the cold wall until he was sitting. The gashes on his back were deep. His shirt, saturated with rainwater, clung to torn flesh. My eyes burned. I pulled off my outer jacket and pressed it against the wounds to slow the bleeding. A local auntie nearby- her own home had been flooded out–handed me a small emergency first- aid kit without a word.

My hands were shaking. I cleaned the wounds as best I could with what was in the kit, wrapping strips of gauze around his torso. Silas’s face had gone white from the blood loss, his lips drained of colour. But the first thing he did, even then, was reach back and run his hands over my arms, my shoulders, my face–checking, again, that I hadn’t been hurt.

“You’re the one bleeding,” I said. My voice came out thinner than I

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wanted.

“know” He didn’t stop checking. “No scratches? Nowhere?”

“No. I’m fine.”

He nodded once, satisfied, and let his hand fall. Leaned his head back against the wall. Closed his eyes.

The wait was long.

Rescue buses finally reached the area, loading displaced people for the town’s main shelter. We were about to board when the auntie who’d given us the first–aid kit called out to us. Her house was on the upper floors of this very building–the structure was sound, and she had a spare guest

room.

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