The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 114

The Human Among Wolves

Chapter 114

Aurora

ས ཛཱ88%u

The east wing was too quiet when we got there. Not the usual quiet you’d expect in a place no one really went to–it was heavier than that, thick and pressing, like even the walls were waiting to see what we’d do.

The door loomed at the end of the corridor, massive and black, covered in faintly glowing runes that crawled over the surface like veins. The closer I got, the more my skin prickled, like the air itself was buzzing.

I slid the rogue key into the lock, holding my breath.

For a second, it actually worked. It fit like it belonged there. Hope flickered in my chest–maybe, just maybe-

Then the door gave this deep, ancient groan that made the hairs on my neck rise. The runes across its surface flared, shifting and

rearranging into jagged shapes I didn’t recognize at first.

My pulse jumped.

“It’s not just a lock,” Riven said softly, almost like she didn’t want the door to hear her. “It’s a test.”

The runes moved again, twisting into broken fragments that made my stomach drop. Because I did recognize them now. Bits and

pieces I’d seen in the Latin book. Pages Zayn and I had managed to translate.

My voice sounded small when I whispered, “It’s… a puzzle. It wants me to finish it.”

So I did.

I lifted a shaky hand, pressing my fingers against the glowing symbols. They were warm under my skin, humming faintly. Slowly, I

started shifting them into place. One by one.

The first clicked into place with a sound almost too low to hear, a little hum that rattled through my chest. The second followed,

glowing brighter once it locked.

The air got heavier the more I worked, until every breath felt tight, my heartbeat matching the slow pulse of light running through

the runes.

No one said a word behind me. Not even Lira. That silence was worse than if they’d been shouting encouragement–it made it feel

like the whole corridor was holding its breath.

Finally, I was down to the center crest. Bigger than the others. Brighter, too.

I hesitated. My hand hovered above it. Something told me this wasn like the others.

“What if it wants-” I started.

But before I could finish, Lira, impatient as always, grabbed my wrist and shoved my hand down.

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Chapter 114

༤ ཟེ 88%

Pain shot through me as something sharp bit into my palm. I gasped trying to pull back, but it was too late–the crest drank in the

blood before I even realized what had happened.

The whole door lit up, runes flaring so bright I had to squeeze my eyes shut. The sound that followed was worse–like stone and

metal grinding apart, old and angry.

Slowly, agonizingly, the door split open.

Cold air spilled out, washing over me. Not just cold–wrong. Metallic and sour, like breathing in rust. It slipped into my lungs, and

suddenly every instinct I had was screaming at me to run.

I didn’t. None of us did. We just stood there, staring into the yawning darkness, hearts pounding loud enough to fill the silence.

And then I heard it.

Bootsteps.

Faint at first, echoing down the hall, but growing clearer with every second.

“Shit,” Mira hissed under her breath.

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

We were out of time.

The footsteps were too close.

“Inside,” I hissed, shoving at the heavy door before any of us could second–guess it.

The hinges groaned in protest, but somehow, blessedly, it moved. We slipped through the crack one by one, hearts racing, and the moment the last of us was inside, I pressed my shoulder against the stone and pushed until it clicked shut again. The runes dimmed back into their quiet shimmer, sealing us in.

We stood there in the pitch–black, straining to hear. The footsteps slowed. Paused. My throat tightened, my whole body rigid as I imagined someone standing right outside the door, just listening.

But then–they moved on. The echo faded, swallowed by the hall.

Only then did I breathe again. My knees wobbled a little, and I was the only one–Mira let out a shaky laugh she immediately smothered, while Lira muttered something about “almost dying of a heart attack.”

“Quiet,” Riven whispered. “We’re not safe yet.”

She was right. The room around us was cold and still, the kind of stillness that didn’t feel empty so much as waiting. I fumbled for the little sphere of light Mira pulled from her pocket, and when it flared to life, we finally saw what we were standing in.

Shelves. Endless rows of them, stretching into the gloom. Each stacked with tomes so ancient they looked like a stiff breeze would turn them to dust. The air smelled of parchment and something older, heavier. It pressed against my skin, made the little hairs on

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Chapter 114

my arms stand up.

ས བཱི 88%

We moved slowly, our footsteps muffled against the stone floor. My eyes skimmed the shelves, but every spine looked the same:

cracked leather, faded gold lettering, dust clinging to the edges. Too many.

“We don’t have time to search all of these,” Mira whispered urgently eyes darting around like she expected someone or something

-to leap out at us.

“I know,” I said, though my own chest was tight. “Just… give me a second. I’ll know it when I see it.”

Because I would. I remembered the book. Not perfectly, not in sharp detail, but enough. The memory was lodged in me like a

splinter–dark binding, heavier than it should’ve been, a smell that clung to it, almost like iron.

My fingers trailed over spines as I moved down the aisle, heart thudding with every step. Then–there.

It was tucked low on the shelf, half–buried between two volumes that looked centuries older. The leather cover was cracked at the

edges, the metal clasp dull with tarnish. My stomach twisted.

“That’s it,” I whispered. My hand hovered above it for a moment before I finally pulled it free.

It was heavier than I remembered. Cold, even through the leather.

The others crowded close as I unlatched the clasp and opened it.

The first page hit me like a punch.

Wells, A. Provisional.

The letters shimmered faintly, as if the ink had been pressed into the page with something more than just a pen.

My throat went dry.

And then I saw the rest. In smaller print, nearly invisible until I angled the page just right.

Origin restricted. Clearance Level Three.

I didn’t even breathe as my eyes drifted down further. Blank. Completely blank. Page after page, nothing but smooth parchment

waiting to be filled.

I swallowed hard. Of course. Of course it wasn’t that easy.

Still, I could feel it. The book was waiting. Dormant, maybe, but alive in a way the others on the shelves weren’t. It wasn’t just blank -it was holding something back.

“If we unlock it…” I whispered, almost to myself. “It’ll fill. It has to.