The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 375

Chapter 375

He chose this.

She helped me dress, moving carefully, never tugging too hard. Her fingers shook only once, when she zipped up the back. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, stepping back to study me.

“You look…” She paused, choosing her words cautiously. “Good. Master will like.”

The way she said master made my insides go hollow.

She opened a small drawer in the vanity and pulled out a brush.

“Sit. Please.”

I did.

Her hands were surprisingly gentle as she brushed my hair, pulling it back into a loose braid that draped over one shoulder. She secured it with a small silver pin.

No makeup.

Not even perfume.

It was intentional.

He wanted me natural.

Finally, she stepped back.

“It is time,” she said again, softer this time, like she hated being the messenger.

My throat closed.

She guided me to the door with a light touch at my elbow -barely pressure at all. I wondered if she was instructed never to hold me like the guards did. If they wanted me to feel something different here.

Freedom?

No.

Not freedom.

1/5

False softness.

A trick.

We walked down the hallway-cream walls, tall windows letting in sunlight, gold-trimmed sconces lighting the shadows. If anything, it felt… normal.

But normal in the way poison looks like water.

“What… what is he going to do?” I whispered.

The maid exhaled, the smallest shake of her head.

“I do not know,” she murmured. “But be careful. He is…”

She searched for a word-one she could say without getting punished.

“…not kind.”

Understatement of the century.

We descended a winding staircase. The house was silent, but not empty-I could feel people in the distance. Staff. Guards. None of them visible.

He didn’t need many eyes on me.

The mark on my wrist was enough.

We approached a set of tall double doors made of dark wood, carved with intricate patterns of wolves, forests, and runes I didn’t

recognize.

She knocked once.

The sound echoed.

“Enter.”

His voice.

Deep. Smooth.

Command woven through every syllable.

The maid opened the door and stepped aside for me to walk in.

2/5

My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

The dining room was enormous-long marble floor, high ceilings, windows overlooking a snow-covered forest. At the center of the room was a table long enough to seat twenty.

But only one person sat there.

Sergei Morozov.

He didn’t look up immediately. He was pouring tea into a porcelain cup, movements calm and déliberate. His dark coat was gone, replaced by a simple black shirt that stretched across broad shoulders. His hair was damp at the ends-he had showered recently.

Finally, he lifted his eyes.

Cold. Pale. Assessing.

“Aurenya,” he said, as if tasting the name. “Come. Sit.”

He gestured to the chair beside him.

Not across the table.

Beside him.

Close.

I stood still for a heartbeat too long. The air stilled, thickening with tension.

His gaze slid to my wrist.

He didn’t touch it.

He didn’t need to.

The mark pulsed.

A white-hot sting shot up my arm, and I gasped, knees nearly buckling.

The command was silent but clear.

Move.

I forced my feet forward until I reached the chair and sat down, every muscle tight and bracing.

3/5

Sergei leaned back in his seat, studying me with a calmness that felt like a blade pressed to my throat. His eyes flicked from my face to my hair to the dress the maid had chosen.

“Good,” he murmured. “They prepared you well.”

Prepared.

The word tasted like ashes in my mouth.

He slid a plate toward me-fruit, cheese, bread. Nothing poisoned-looking, nothing extravagant. Simple.

“Eat.”

I didn’t move.

His eyes lifted.

“Aurenya,” he said quietly. “I will not repeat myself.”

My stomach twisted painfully. I picked up a piece of bread and took a small bite. He watched every movement, expression unreadable.

He ate nothing.

Only drank tea.

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