The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Aurora

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“Of course,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I leaned back against the chair, crossing my arms. “Fine. Whatever. If this is what it takes… maybe this is my last chance of getting this fucking Latin book translated.”

They all exchanged little victorious looks like they’d just won something, which only made me want to groan louder.

“But,” I added, cutting through their smug silence, “there’s one problem.”

Mira tilted her head, cautious now. “What problem?”

I let out a sharp laugh, the kind that held no humor. “The east wing

Her brow furrowed, and Lira leaned forward. “What about it?”

“The book with my name in it,” I said, the words heavier than I expected. “It’s in there. Inside that locked room I don’t have the first clue how to open. The Warden just… touched it, and the door opened by itself. Like it was waiting for him. I don’t-”

“-we’ll figure something out,” Lira interrupted before I could spiral any further. Her tone was too confident, too casual, like she was just talking about sneaking into the cafeteria after hours. “We have four days.”

I blinked at her. “…Four days?” My voice pitched higher than I mean it to, somewhere between disbelief and panic.

“Yeah,” Mira said, a little too breezy, like this was perfectly normal news. “That’s when you and Kael are leaving.”

I gaped at her, trying to process that sentence. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged like it was no big deal. “The witch gave us a window. She doesn’t like waiting. Four days from now, you and Kael head

out to her cabin.”

I dragged a hand down my face. “Of course you arranged the time too.”

“Someone had to,” Lira said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Unbelievable. You three have basically planned my death sentence, and you’re sitting here

acting like it’s a group project deadline.”

Mira winced. “We prefer the term… carefully orchestrated rescue mission.”

“Oh, and you told me it’ll cost me,” I said, my tone edged with sarcasm. “Do I even want to know what the price is?”

The room went quiet. Too quiet. Lira’s grin faltered. Mira suddenly found a loose thread on her blanket very interesting. Even Riven -usually unbothered–shifted in her seat, twisting one of her braids ike she wished she were anywhere else but here.

Yeah. Definitely not money.

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I stared at them, my stomach tightening with every second of silence “Okay,” I said slowly, my voice thin now. “You’re all acting like someone just died, so… what’s the catch?”

“She wants a favor,” Riven said finally, cutting through the tension like a blade. Her voice was flat, steady, but her eyes were dark.

I blinked. “A… favor?”

“Not like “hey, can you help me chop firewood,“” Lira jumped in, but her usual smirk was gone. “With witches, favors aren’t like normal favors. They’re binding. Like… blood–deep binding.”

Mira nodded, still fidgeting. “Once you agree, you can’t back out. Ever. She can call it in whenever she wants. No warning. No

details.”

“So… what, I just hand over my book and basically sell my soul until she decides what she wants?” I asked, my voice shaking

slightly.

“Pretty much,” Lira said quietly.

I let out a shaky laugh, but it sounded more like a gasp. “This is insane. I don’t even know this woman. You don’t even know her. And you want me to sign myself over to her? Blind?”

“She’s the only one who can translate the book,” Riven said, her tone final. “She’s your only shot.”

I sank back into the chair, my pulse hammering. My mind raced, flicking through every dark possibility like flipping through the pages of some cursed manual. She could ask me for blood. For a secret. For someone I cared about. For something I couldn’t ever

undo.

“Okay,” I said finally, the word coming out small but steady. “I’ll do it. We have four days to unlock those doors, so we better start

now.”

They all froze like I’d struck a match–then immediately spilled into a dozen suggestions.

“The new Warden’s useless,” Riven said flatly, as if reading my mind. She leaned back against the bedpost, twirling one of her braids around her finger. “Don’t even think about asking her. She doesn’t know a damn thing, and even if she did, she wouldn’t help us.”

“Yeah,” Mira added, rolling her eyes. “She’s like a stone statue with better posture. You could ask her where the bathroom is and

she’d report you for wasting her time.”

I sighed, rubbing at my temple. “Great. So the one person who might ve had an actual answer is missing. Now what? Do I just… walk into the east wing and kindly ask the door to let me in?”

Lira grinned, the kind of grin that made me immediately regret speaking. “No. We steal a key.”

I blinked. “…A key.”

“Every door has one,” she said matter–of–factly. “Doesn’t matter if it’s sealed with magic or covered in glowing runes, someone made it. Someone forged the lock, and someone forged the key.”

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Mira’s eyes lit up, catching on immediately. “The guards. They carry master keys. Not all of them, but the ones who do? They keep them in the guardhouse. Night shift swaps them out.”

My stomach flipped. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting we break to the guardhouse.”

Lira’s grin only widened.

Of course she was.

Later that night, the four of us crouched in the shadows just outside the guard wing. My heart was pounding so loud I was convinced it would give us away before we even stepped inside.

The corridors were too quiet. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like an alarm bell. Mira kept throwing me reassuring looks that were anything but reassuring. Riven was calm–too calm, really, like he could just melt into the darkness. Lira, naturally, looked

like she was enjoying every second of this.

“Locked,” Mira whispered when we reached the door to the little office where the guards kept their things.

“Good thing locks are my specialty,” she added, pulling a thin piece of wire from her sleeve like she’d been waiting her whole life

for this exact moment.

It took her less than thirty seconds. The lock clicked, the door creaked open, and I swear my soul left my body.

Inside, the air smelled like sweat and old leather. Weapons lined the walls, armor stacked neatly in rows. And there, behind a glass-

fronted cabinet, hung a heavy ring of keys.

“There,” Lira whispered, pointing.

The cabinet was locked, but Mira made short work of it again, her fingers nimble and steady. When the door swung open, I reached

for the keys–only to freeze when my hand brushed against the largest one.

It was heavy. Cold. The metal seemed to vibrate faintly against my skin, like it was alive.

“You feel that?” I whispered.

Mira frowned. “Feel what?”

I swallowed, shaking my head. “Nothing. Let’s just go.”

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