The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147

My chest tightened. I felt sick. I wanted to run, to wake her and teller everything. But I couldn’t.

Because once I said it, it’d be real.

And real meant dangerous.

So instead, I did what I always do.

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I destroyed the only good thing I’d ever had before someone else could.

I pulled on my hoodie and left the room. The air outside was cold, the sky gray, and I ran until my lungs burned and my hands

shook.

When I came back, the decision was already carved into me like a wound.

She was sitting up when I walked in, hair messy, blanket clutched to her chest. She smiled when she saw me–small, uncertain, but

hopeful.

“You’re awake,” I said, voice flat.

She nodded, tilting her head a little. “Where were you?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Went for a run. Needed to clear my head.”

The light shifted across her face. I could see her studying me, searching for something I couldn’t give.

“What happened?” she asked quietly. “You look like someone just-”

“Don’t.” My voice came out sharper than I meant.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said, the words scraping my throat ra. “Like you think you know me. Like last night meant something.”

Her expression faltered. “It… it didn’t?”

I laughed a short, ugly sound that didn’t even sound like me. I turned toward her, and for a second, she looked so confused, so open, that I almost broke.

Almost.

“You actually thought I cared about you?”

Her breath hitched. I saw it–the hurt flicker across her face, fast but deep.

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Chapter 147

I should’ve stopped. I didn’t.

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“You’re just a pathetic little human,” I said, each word deliberate, cruel. “Spreading your legs for the first guy who bothers to notice

you.”

Her face went white. Then red. Tears welled, fast and raw.

And when she stood–still naked, still shaking–I wanted to take it all back. Every word.

But I didn’t.

I just stood there while she dressed, clumsy hands trembling, shoulders shaking as she tried not to cry.

Each sound–the rustle of fabric, the sharp inhale when her shirt caught on her hair–carved itself into me.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Because if I did, I’d beg her to stay.

She looked up once, eyes shining through tears. “Why?” she whispered.

I couldn’t answer.

Not with the truth.

So I stayed silent; let her keep hating me instead.

Then she asked again, voice breaking. “Why did you sleep with me?”

And I knew that was it–the question that would haunt me forever.

So I gave her the only thing I had left to give her.

A lie sharp enough to cut.

“You want to know why?” I said, stepping closer. “Because it didn’t mean anything. You’re nothing special, Aurora. Just a lonely little girl who got lucky that I was bored enough to play along. The book, the spell… it was just something to pass the time. And last night? You practically begged me for it. You think I’d say no?”

She flinched like I’d hit her.

Her hand moved before I could stop her.

The crack of her palm against my cheek was loud in the silence. My head snapped to the side, the sting burning hot across my skin.

I deserved worse.

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Chapter 147

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She was crying now, angry, shaking, her voice breaking as she tried to speak. “You don’t get to talk to me like that,” she said. “Not after-” She stopped herself, breath catching.

And then she turned away.

I watched her pull her bag from the floor, watched her grab that damn book that started all of this. Her hand lingered on the cover for half a second, and I thought maybe–maybe she’d stay.

She didn’t.

She reached the door, one hand on the knob.

“Aurora.”

Her name left my mouth before I could stop it.

She froze, her back to me, shoulders trembling.

For a moment, I almost told her everything–about Zade, about Father, about the threat hanging over her like a blade.

But if I did, it would only paint a target on her back.

So instead, I said the only thing that would keep her safe.

“You should hate me.”

Her answer came soft, trembling, final.

“I already do.”

Then the door opened.

And she was gone.

I stood there, staring at the door, my cheek still stinging, my hands shaking. The room still smelled like her.

Like what I’d just destroyed.

I punched the wall until my knuckles split, until blood smeared the white paint, until pain drowned out the sound of her voice in

my head.

And when I finally stopped, I realized the truth–the one I’d been running from since the moment I met her.

I didn’t break her to save her.

I broke her because I was too much of a coward to fight for her.