The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 48

The Human Among Wolves

Chapter 48

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Zayn

Each step down creaked under our weight, and I hated that sound–it felt like the house itself was mocking me, reminding me of what I’d just seen, what I couldn’t unsee. I wanted to scream, to demand answers he wouldn’t give, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. He never listened. Not really.

When we reached the ground floor, my father straightened his coat and glanced toward the door. “It’s time to go,” he said simply, as though this entire visit had been no more than a meeting, a routine obligation.

Relief sparked in me for the first time since we’d arrived. I wanted nothing more than to be out of this place, to never set foot in it again. I stepped toward the exit, eager for air that didn’t taste like dust and despair.

But before we reached the door, a soft voice cut through the air.

“Leaving so soon, Your Majesty?”

Antoinette stepped into view, emerging from one of the side halls. I recognized her instantly–the same cold elegance, the perfect poise. Earlier, when we’d arrived, she’d greeted us with a bow and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Now, hough, her gaze lingered on me a little too long, as though she’d been

waiting for this moment.

Beside her, Chris followed, silent as a shadow. He was exactly as he had been when we entered: broad, steady, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes sharp with the kind of vigilance that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

“Yes,” my father replied, unbothered by their sudden appearance. “Our purpose here is finished.”

Antoinette’s smile didn’t fade. “And did young Prince Zayn find the… experience enlightening?” Her tone was velvet, but there was a current beneath it-

mockery, maybe, or a quiet test.

Heat rose in my chest, but my throat locked up. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say or how I was supposed to answer. My hands curled into fists at my sides, but before I could even open my mouth, my father cut in.

“He saw what he needed to see,” he said firmly, his words ending the conversation as though it had been nothing more than a formality.

Chris gave the smallest of nods, but Antoinette’s eyes lingered on me. Too long. Like she was studying me. There was no pity there, no warmth–just

calculation, the same kind I’d seen in my father.

“Until next time,” she said smoothly, stepping back with a little bow of her head

Next time.

Without another glance, my father pushed the door open. I swallowed hard, forcing my legs to move, and followed him out, leaving Antoinette’s lingering

gaze and Chris’s silent watch behind us. It was no more than 6 pm, so we have been here for quite some time.

I hesitated on the doorstep, glancing back once. The house loomed behind me, quet and unassuming, as if it were nothing more than a wealthy family’s estate. Its windows were dark, curtains drawn, hiding the truths that lived behind them. If I hadn’t seen what was upstairs with my own eyes, I never would

have believed it.

But I had seen. And I couldn’t unsee.

Antoinette was still standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable, her pale eyes gleaming faintly in the light. Chris loomed just behind her, his arms crossed, gaze fixed on me now instead of my father. The weight of their silence followed me down the steps until I climbed into the limousine.

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Chapter 48

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Inside, the world was muffled again. The leather seats smelled of polish, and the inted windows made everything darker. I sank into the far corner, trying to

press myself as far as I could from my father, though he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and simply didn’t care.

The door shut, and the car lurched forward. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the steady hum of the engine and the faint thud of my

own heartbeat in my ears.

I stared out the window as the house slid out of view, swallowed by the night. It poked so ordinary from the outside. Just a house. A house that held monsters–not the girls inside, but the ones who kept them there. My father. Antoinette. Chris.

And, apparently, me.

Because whether I wanted it or not, I was being dragged into this world. My father had said it plainly enough. This–this nightmare–was my inheritance.

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My hands trembled against my knees. I curled them into fists, forcing them still, but the shake ran deeper than my skin. It was in my chest, in my blood.

I couldn’t breathe.

But I didn’t say a word.

Not yet.

My father finally spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. “When you arrive at your dorm, tell Zade I am waiting for him in the car. Understood?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, and gave a small, stiff nod. “Yes, Father.”

The car slowed as we approached the academy gates. I didn’t wait for him to give permission–I opened the door and stepped out, the cold night air biting at my skin. Each step toward the academy felt impossibly heavy, as if the weight of everything I’d seen–the girls, the rooms, the fear–was pressing down on

me, refusing to let me move freely.

I moved silently through the courtyard, careful to avoid the few lingering students, careful to make myself invisible. My legs felt like lead, my chest tight with a mixture of anger, confusion, and exhaustion. All I wanted was to reach my room, slam the door behind me, and disappear from the world for just a

little while.

When I finally reached my dorm, I paused at the door, bracing for solitude, for some small relief. But the moment I opened it, that hope shattered.

There they were.

Zade, leaning casually against my desk with that infuriatingly confident smirk, as though he owned the place.

And Aurora. What the fuck was she doing here? My eyes shot to her immediately. She was near the door, frozen mid–step, her bag still slung over one shoulder. Her eyes widened the instant she saw me, a flicker of surprise–or was fear?-crossing her face.

Aurora’s lips parted slightly, and then, softly, almost a whisper carried through the thick tension in the room.

“Zayn,” she breathed, her voice trembling as she spoke my name.

I froze.