The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Zayn

成念93%

When we climbed the stairs, the air felt heavier, staler, like the lavender perfume that clung downstairs couldn’t reach this high. A long hallway stretched before us, lined with doors on either side. Each one was closed and identical, their polished wood betraying nothing of what lay beyond. The silence pressed in, broken only by the faint creak of the steps beneath our feet and the soft hum of voices far, far away–though maybe I only imagined them.

My father’s stride didn’t falter. He stopped at the first door on the left, his hand closing around the brass handle with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before. Without ceremony, he pushed it open.

The smell hit me first–not rot exactly, but something sharp and thin, like air that had gone untouched too long. The room itself was small. Cramped. Four walls, plain and suffocating, with only a narrow bed pushed against the side wall and a simple table with one chair tucked neatly beneath it. No windows. No warmth.

And then I saw her.

She couldn’t have been older than twenty. Thin. Fragile in a way that made my stomach twist. She sat curled on the bed, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, arms wrapped around herself as though she was trying to disappear into her own body. Her hair was dark and tangled, her skin pale. But it was her eyes that caught me–bright, unnatural red. Vampire.

When the door opened, her head snapped up. Her gaze darted to me, then to my father, wide and startled. Fear lived in her expression, raw and unhidden, and I felt it in my bones.

I froze in the doorway, my chest tightening. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand.

What the fuck is this?

I turned sharply to my father, searching his face for some kind of answer, some shred of explanation. But he looked calm. Steady. As if nothing about this scene surprised him. As if he’d seen it all before.

My throat felt dry, my voice breaking when I finally managed to speak. “What… who is she?” The words came out barely above a whisper, a tremor of disbelief shaking through them.

But deep down, even before he answered, I already knew I wasn’t going to like the truth.

My father didn’t answer right away. He just stood in the doorway, his shadow stretching into the tiny room, eyes fixed on the girl as though she were nothing more than a piece of furniture. She didn’t move–she just stared back at us, her arms tightening around her legs, chin sinking deeper into her knees.

Finally, he spoke

“She,” he said, his tone calm, almost clinical, “is merchandise.”

That word again, and I didn’t like it one bit. “Merchandise?”

“Yes.” He didn’t look at me–his gaze stayed on her, steady, detached. “Every girl in this house has been brought here for a purpose. They are cleaned. Dressed. Fed enough to keep them alive, but never enough to let them forget who controls their bodies. They are trained to sit quietly, to look beautiful, to be desirable. They are prepared until the day their names are called.”

The girl flinched, ever so slightly, at the sound of his voice. My stomach twisted molently.

I shook my head. “Prepared for what?”

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11:57 Thu, Jan 29 B BB

Chapter 45

My father’s eyes cut to me at last. There was no softness there. No hesitation. “F

My breath caught. I stared at him, then back at the girl–thin, trembling, staring

“An auction,” he said flatly, as though it were the simplest truth in the world. “M they want. Power attracts power, Zayn, and sometimes power is purchased in fles