The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Aurora

91%

The day couldn’t have started any worse. The moment my eyes fluttered open, a dull heaviness settled over me, the kind that warned me things would only spiral from there. Out of habit, I reached for my phone on the nightstand, squinting against the brightness of the screen. The first thing I checked–without even thinking–was whether Zade had messaged me. My chest tightened when I saw nothing from him. Relief and disappointment tangled together in a way that left me unsettled.

But there was a message. One that made my stomach twist the moment I saw the name. Mom. Just two words, but enough to

unsteady me: ‘Call me ASAP.”

I stared at it for what felt like forever, my thumb hovering over the screen. A part of me wanted to shove the phone under my

pillow, to pretend I hadn’t seen it. Pretend that whatever she wanted to say could wait. But I knew better.

I sat up slowly, listening to the noise around me. My roommates were already awake, chattering excitedly as they tossed clothes across the room and argued over which shoes went best with which outfits. They were heading out shopping–it was Saturday, after

all–and the carefree way they laughed only made me feel more detached. I wasn’t in the mood to put on a smile, not today.

By the time they finally left in a flurry of perfume and giggles, I’d managed to drag myself out of bed and into the canteen for a

quick breakfast. I barely tasted the food; every bite felt like cardboard, and my mind wasn’t on the plate in front of me anyway. My

thoughts kept circling back to that unread message.

So, after pushing the tray away, I returned to the dorm with a knot in my stomach, every step heavier than the last. I sat down on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone in my hand like it might burn me if I touched it again. I’d been postponing this call for weeks, pretending everything was fine. Pretending I could keep avoiding the inevitable.

Finally, with a sharp inhale, I pressed the button and lifted the phone to my ear. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Each chime made

my chest squeeze tighter.

And then, her voice. Gentle. Familiar. The sound of home.

“Aurora?”

Just one word, and my throat already felt too tight to answer.

“Hey… Isobelle,” I said, the name catching awkwardly in my throat. felt foreign, heavy, and almost wrong on my tongue. For as

long as I could remember, she had been Mom. My safe place. My anchor. But ever since the truth came out–that she wasn’t really

my mother–that word had become a lie I couldn’t force myself to say anymore.

The silence that followed on the other end of the line was sharp. I could feel her reaction even without seeing her face: the way she

probably stiffened, the way her mouth might’ve tightened into that controlled, careful expression she wore when something hurt

her but she refused to admit it.

I shifted on the bed, my free hand twisting the fabric of my blankets the quiet stretched between us. My chest felt tight, guilt

clawing at me, but I stayed still, waiting. Part of me hated myself for saying it, for cutting that bond with a single word. But another

part of me… the part that was still raw and aching… couldn’t take it back.

1/3

|||

O

<

12:00 Thu, Jan 29 GB B

Chapter 58

$391%u

Finally, I heard her exhale softly, a sound so faint it could have been mistaken for static. Not anger. Not yet. Just… disappointment.

And in some ways, that was worse.

“Aurora, baby,” her voice came through the line, soft and trembling, like she was afraid I might hang up at any second. “I know you’re hurting right now. I know this feels… impossible. But please listen to me. I am still your mother. Maybe not in the way you wanted, maybe not in the way you thought all these years, but I am may not have carried you in my body, but I carried you in my arms, every day, from the moment you came into my life. I fed you, sang to you, and I held you when you had nightmares. I raised

you.”

Her breath caught slightly, and I could picture her pressing her hand to her chest the way she always did when she was trying to steady her emotions. “I loved you, Aurora. I love you. Nothing about that has changed. Your father and I–we gave you everything we could. We still want to. We still care for you more than anything in this world. You are our daughter. You always will be. Please…

don’t shut us out. Don’t let this wall grow higher between us.”

Her voice broke on the last words, and in that crack of sound, I heard not just desperation, but fear. Fear of losing me. Fear that one

word–Isobelle–had already taken me away from her.

I didn’t know what to say to her. My throat worked, but no words came out. How was I supposed to fix the mess I’d made with a single sentence? How was I supposed to take back the hurt of calling her Isobelle instead of Mom?

Because the truth was, no matter what blood said, I did love them. Both of them. They weren’t my biological parents, but they were the ones who had been there through scraped knees and birthdays, through every heartbreak and every victory. I loved them with my whole heart, and admitting that—even just to myself–made my chest ache even more.

I parted my lips, finally ready to say something, anything, but she spoke first, her voice gentle yet full of urgency.

*Me and your father… we want to take you out to lunch today. Just the three of us. It’s Saturday, and you don’t have any classes, so what do you say? Please, Aurora. Come. And I promise-” she hesitated, the weight of her words thick in the silence-“we’ll tell you

anything you want to know. No more secrets.”

I blinked, the heaviness in my chest shifting into something else–hope, maybe, or fear. I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I wanted

answers. I wanted the truth.

“Okay,” I whispered finally, the single word rough but certain.

“Great, honey,” she said quickly, her tone brightening, though I could still hear the tremor of relief beneath it. “We’ll pick you up at around two, in front of the Academy. Does that sound alright?”

“Sounds good,” I murmured, before my thumb hovered over the screen and I ended the call.

I glanced at the clock–09:45 a.m. Still hours to go until lunch. Too many hours to sit here with my thoughts, too many hours to

replay things I didn’t want to replay.

And then the dream slammed into me, unbidden, vivid as if it had just happened.

Zade. His lips on mine. The press of his body far too close, the heat curling low in my stomach, the rush of it so real I could almost

still feel it.

2/3

12:00 Thu, Jan 29 BBB.

The Human Among Wolves