The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 330

Chapter 330

Aurora

The rest of the day, I decided to bury myself in everything except him. Zayh could play whatever game he wanted-fine. I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. Lunch passed in a blur, trays of food sliding past me without much thought, Mira beside me chatting idly, but I only half-listened, my mind already rehearsing the hours ahead. Skiing. Fresh powder. Cold air. Anything to distract me from the heat that had woken inside me

that morning.

Back in our room, the ritual of getting ready began. Layers of thermal wear gloves, scarves, goggles, boots that took forever to lace up. I tried

to focus, letting the rhythm of dressing slow my thoughts. Mira flitted around the room, excited and endlessly energetic, while I moved mechanically, ignoring the small prickle of tension in my chest every time Zayn crossed my mind.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Lira and Riven to arrive. They barged in like they owned the place, half-laughing, half-teasing, and

immediately began firing questions at us.

“So,” Lira began, perched on the edge of the bed, “who was that girl with Zayn at breakfast? He looked… cozy. Too cozy.”

I stiffened, zipping my jacket a little too forcefully. Mira shot me a glance but wisely stayed quiet, letting me handle it.

“I don’t know,” I said casually, trying to keep my tone even, but the lie sounded hollow even to me. “Just someone he knows, probably from

another academy.”

Riven snorted. “Uh-huh, sure. You expect me to believe that? You looked like you were about to set the place on fire when you saw him.”

I shrugged, forcing a laugh that didn’t reach my eyes. “I was tired, that’s all.”

They exchanged knowing glances, but said nothing more. Still, I could feel their curiosity like heat against my back, watching me carefully as I

slid on my gloves and adjusted my goggles.

The wolf inside me had quieted for now, but the jealousy lingered like a slow-burning ember. I couldn’t let them see it. I couldn’t let him see

1. So I focused on the straps of my skis, the cold snap of the wind outside the window, the mundane details that kept my hands busy and my

mind slightly distracted.

Even as we headed out toward the bus that would take us to the slopes, my eyes kept flicking toward the corner of the hotel lobby, scanning for him. Zayn. Smiling. Relaxed. The image burned behind my eyelids, and I swore under my breath, vowing that if he wanted to play games, I’d play too-but I wouldn’t let him win, not today.

The bus ride was quiet, filled with the low hum of the engine and the occasional murmur of students chatting. Mira sat beside me, fidgeting with her gloves and goggles, still buzzing with excitement. I nodded absently at her questions, barely hearing them. My attention was fixed outside the window, where the snow-covered mountains stretched endlessly, pristine and intimidating.

And there he was again.

Zayn.

Across the bus, toward the back where a few other students had settled, he leaned casually against the window frame, dark hair catching the sunlight that spilled in through the glass. He wasn’t looking at me-not yet-but my stomach tightened anyway. He looked effortless, relaxed, perfectly in control. And I… was not.

I gritted my teeth and turned my gaze back to my lap, focusing on the strips of my skis. My wolf stirred restlessly, a low, warning growl curling in the back of my mind. It was alive, aware, and hungry for the tension between us. I pressed my palms into my knees, trying to ignore it, trying to bury the heat in my chest, but it was impossible. Every movemer, every glance toward him set the wolf on edge.

When the bus finally stopped, the doors opened to a rush of frigid air that made my lungs burn. The slopes stretched out before us, glistening under the winter sun, untouched and immaculate. The instructors began ganizing the students into groups, shouting instructions over the wind, pointing toward lifts and trails. I swallowed hard, my hands tightening around my poles.

“I’ll go slow,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “I’ve… never done this.”

Mira shot me an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine! I’ll stick with you.”

I forced a nod, trying to summon confidence I didn’t feel.

The first few meters were… a disaster.

I pushed off awkwardly, skis sliding unpredictably over the packed snow. My poles dug into the ground at the wrong angles. My body wobbled

violently, and my boots felt like they had minds of their own, tugging me his way and that. I toppled sideways, a startled yelp escaping me as I

crashed into the powder. Snow clung to my hair, my jacket, my gloves. My cheeks burned from both the cold and the embarrassment.

“Rory!” Mira’s voice sliced through the mountain air, panicked but steady. She skidded to my side, grabbing my arm to keep me from sliding

further.

*1-I’m fine,” I stammered, trying to pull myself upright. But the skis refused to cooperate.

My legs wobbled uncontrollably. My wolf hissed low in my mind, snarling at the instability, the danger, the incompetence of my body.

“Okay… just-just breathe,” Mira said, pressing a hand to my shoulder. “You’ve got this. Slow, small movements. Follow me.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, and forced myself to take careful steps. My wolf growled again, restless and sharp, warning me against every

misstep, every sudden shift in balance. But I couldn’t stop moving. I had to reach the bottom. Had to survive without falling flat on my face

again.

And through it all, I couldn’t stop scanning the slopes.

Zayn was there.

Not too far down, demonstrating turns to a group of students, effortlessly cutting through the snow. He was confident. Calm. Smiling slightly as if nothing yesterday had happened, as if the tension of the night before didn’t exist. My chest clenched. My wolf snarled, tail flicking violently in my mind. The sight of him, so unbothered, so perfect, made the fire in my belly flare again.

“Rory, focus!” Mira’s voice broke through my haze. I blinked, forcing my attention back to the skis beneath my feet, the slope ahead, the rhythm of my breathing.

I tried to mimic her movements, taking each turn cautiously. My first few attempts were clumsy-legs twisting, poles skimming, skis sliding too fast in the wrong direction-but slowly, painstakingly, I began to find some balance. It was awkward, wobbly, and far from graceful, but at least

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