The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 380

Chapter 380

Aurora

He moved toward me with that same calm, controlled confidence, like a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to run. My back pressed against the cold wall of the room, the air thick with the scent of incense and my own rising fear. Sergei’s eyes, dark and unyielding, raked over me as he closed the distance, his presence filling the space until I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

My heart hammered in my chest, each beat echoing the growing anxiety that clawed at my insides. I was trapped, utterly and completely, with no escape from whatever game he was playing.

He stopped just inches away, his gaze dropping to inspect my body with slow movements that made my skin crawl.

His fingers reached for the clasp of my bra, unfastening it with a practiced flick, letting the straps slide down my shoulders. The fabric fell away, exposing my breasts to the cool air-my nipples hardening involuntarily against the chill, pink and peaked, the soft curves of my tits rising and falling with my shallow breaths. He didn’t touch me, not yet, but the way he stared, appraising every inch like I was livestock at market, burned humiliation into my soul.

My rage simmered beneath the surface, hot and furious, but I held still, my eyes locked on his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my

breakdown.

Sergei’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties. He tugged them down slowly, inch by inch, the thin material scraping against my hips until it pooled at my ankles. Now I stood completely naked before him, my bare skin prickling under his gaze.

He stepped closer, his hands gripping my thighs firmly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pried my legs apart. I felt the strain in

my muscles as he forced my knees to spread wide, opening me up completely.

His hand slid upward, rough palm brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, inching toward my pussy. His fingers hovered just at the

edge, almost brushing the warm, slick lips, probing the air as if deciding how to claim what he saw as his. The humiliation surged through

me like fire.

Something inside me exploded.

Not fear.

Not shame.

Not even desperation.

Rage.

Pure, blistering rage that rose from a place deeper than bone, older than breath. It crackled under my skin like electricity, filling my ch

until I couldn’t hold it anymore.

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I screamed.

It wasn’t a human sound.

It ripped out of me like a storm breaking open-violent, raw, powerful enough that the windows shuddered in their frames. The chandelier trembled overhead. The air itself vibrated.

And Sergei-

the monster,

the buyer,

ho thought he owned me-

Body was thrown backward as if a giant hand had slapped him out of the air. He hit the wall hard enough that the plaster cracked in a spiderweb pattern. Dust showered down around him. A picture frame dropped and shattered beside his head.

My chest heaved.

My ears rang.

My heartbeat thundered in a rhythm that didn’t feel like mine anymore.

Because at that exact moment-

The mark on my wrist ignited.

Fire tore through it, climbing up my arm, searing through my veins. But the pain didn’t weaken me.

It fed me.

It poured into the rage already consuming me, and my vision blurred at the edges-colors bending, sharpening, shifting violently. My bones began to ache. My skin burned like it was too tight around me.

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