The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 312

Chapter 312

Aurora

༥ ཏྲཱི 79%L

We stayed like that for hours, until my breathing finally evened out and my thoughts stopped spiraling. Once the panic loosened its grip,

everything else began to fall into place–too neatly, too cruelly.

Kael hadn’t appeared in my life by accident.

That stupid Halloween party, him approaching me out of nowhere, so effortless, so charming–like he’d known exactly what to say, exactly how

to slip past my guard. How he was always there afterward. Always showing up at the right moment. Always listening. Helping. Asking for

nothing in return.

Trusting him had felt natural.

Now it felt humiliating.

I felt stupid for not questioning it sooner, for letting my guard down so easily. But beneath the shame was something sharper, darker–anger.

Pure, burning fury that settled deep in my chest and refused to ease.

When we finally heard movement downstairs–voices, soft footsteps–I knew it was my parents. Reality snapped back into place, cold and

unforgiving.

Zayn pulled back just enough to look at me.

“You can’t tell them anything,” he said quietly but firmly. “Don’t ask questions. Don’t hint. Act completely normal until we know more.”

I nodded, even though every part of me rebelled against it.

“The same goes for Kael,” he added.

That was harder.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that,”

I muttered, my jaw tightening, “without breaking his fucking face.”

Zayn’s mouth twitched–just barely–but his eyes stayed serious.

We got up anyway. Showered. Brushed our teeth. Went through the motions like nothing inside me had just shattered. I put my contacts in,

staring at my reflection longer than necessary, practicing a smile

that didn’t reach my eyes.

Then we pasted that smile on, side by side, and walked downstairs, acting as normal as humanly possible.

The living room was already warm when we stepped inside, the fire crackling softly, the early morning light filtering in through the curtains. Everything looked normal. Too normal. Wrapped boxes sat beneath the tre, ribbons neat, paper uncreased–like the world hadn’t tilted on its axis just hours ago.

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12:43 Thu, Jan 29 BGB.

Chapter 312

“Merry Christmas,” my mom said the moment we stepped into the living room.

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The words hit softly, almost normally, like they always had. The house was warm, filled with the low hum of the heater and the faint scent of

cinnamon and pine.

“Morning,” my dad added, smiling as he looked between us. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I replied, forcing the words past my throat. I smiled–because that was what I was supposed to do.

Because this was Christmas. Because nothing was allowed to be wrong today.

Zayn’s arm brushed mine as he stepped forward, his presence steady, grounding.

“Merry Christmas,” he said easily, his voice calm, warm, like he hadn’t spent half the night holding me while I fell apart.

Mom clapped her hands together lightly.

“Come on, sit. You’ll open gifts before breakfast, or you’ll explode waiting

We moved toward the tree, settling onto the couch and the armchair opposite it. The fire crackled softly behind us, and for a moment–just a

moment–it almost felt real. Normal. Like this wasn’t a fragile illusion balancing on a knife’s edge.

Mom reached under the tree first, pulling out a medium–sized box wrapped in dark green paper with a silver ribbon. She handed it to me.

“For you, sweetheart.”

I swallowed and took it. “Thanks.”

I peeled the paper back slowly, revealing a wooden jewelry box. When I opened it, inside lay a delicate silver necklace, thin and simple, with a

small crescent–shaped charm resting against the velvet.

“I saw it and thought of you,” Mom said quietly. “It’s nothing too flashy. Just… you.”

My chest tightened. “I love it,” I said, and I meant it. I leaned forward and hugged her briefly, careful not to let it linger too long.

Dad cleared his throat and slid another gift toward me–a heavier box this time. Inside was a leather–bound notebook, the pages thick and

slightly rough, the kind meant to last.

“For your writing,” he said. “You’re always scribbling things down on scraps of paper.”

12:43 Thu, Jan 29 B GB.