The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Aurora

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I blinked, turning back to look at him. His grip wasn’t rough–just enough to keep me from bolting–but it made me suddenly, acutely aware of how close he was standing.

“I wasn’t–I just didn’t want you to think-” The words tangled together in my mouth, my defense sputtering out under the weight of his calm, unreadable stare.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was saying the most fascinating thing he’d heard all morning. “Aurora,” he said, slower this time, “you don’t have to explain yourself so much. If you want to stay, stay. If you want to sit in silence all day, that’s fine too.”

My breath caught. It wasn’t the words that got to me; it was the way he said them–as if it really was that simple, as if I wasn’t being dramatic or burdensome or ridiculous.

“Thank you,” I said finally, my voice softer than I intended. My throat felt tight, but I pushed through it. “Really. You didn’t have to… you know, say that. Or stop me. But I’m glad you did.”

Something unreadable flickered across his face–not quite a smile, but close enough to make my chest feel strangely lighter.

“I’ll go to my dorm,” I continued, shifting the strap of my bag on my shoulder, suddenly feeling a little shy under his gaze. “Grab some stuff… pajamas, my notebook, maybe some snacks. I’ll be back in a bit?”

He gave me a small nod, simple and certain, and that was all I needed. I turned on my heel and started toward my dorm, my steps slow at first, like I was reluctant to put space between us.

Halfway down the hall, I glanced over my shoulder. He was still standing where I’d left him, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching me go with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

For some reason, that made me walk just a little bit faster–not because I wanted to get away, but because I suddenly couldn’t wait to come back.

When I finally reached my dorm, I paused for a second with my hand on the doorknob, bracing myself. I had managed to avoid everyone last night, but now there was no way around it.

The door creaked as I pushed it open, and sure enough, Mira was sprawled across her bed with a magazine while Selene sat cross- legged on the floor, painting her nails. Both of them looked up at me the second I stepped inside.

“Where the hell were you all night?” Mira demanded, tossing the magazine aside. “We came back, and your bed was empty.”

“Yeah,” Selene chimed in, narrowing her eyes playfully. “We thought maybe you went home or something, but then we saw your shoes were still here. Do you have any idea how weird it is to wake up and realize your roommate just… vanished?”

I froze in the doorway, heat creeping up my neck. The last thing I wanted to do was explain myself–not now, not when the memories of last night still felt so raw and close.

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Chapter 72

“1” I swallowed, forcing a small, tired smile. “I wasn’t feeling great Needed to clear my head for a while. I ended up… staying

somewhere else.”

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Both girls stared at me, Mira’s brows shooting up while Selene let out a low whistle.

“Somewhere else?” Selene repeated, her grin a little too knowing. “Care to elaborate?”

“No,” I said quickly, stepping past them toward my closet. “Not tonight.”

Mira sat up straighter. “So there is a story.”

“Yes,” I admitted, grabbing a small overnight bag and stuffing it with clothes. “And I’ll tell you tomorrow, I promise. But not right

now, okay?”

They exchanged a look, but Mira finally shrugged. “Fine. But we’re holding you to that.”

“Tomorrow,” I said again, a little more firmly, and zipped up the bag

Before either of them could press me further, I slipped back out the oor, my heart hammering. I hated lying to them–or at least,

not telling the whole truth–but tonight, I just couldn’t.

I stepped out of my dorm, my overnight bag slung over my shoulder and the door clicked shut softly behind me. For a moment, I

just stood there in the empty hallway, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

The brief encounter with Mira and Selene had already drained what little energy I’d managed to gather since last night. I felt wrung out–emotionally, physically–like my insides had been twisted tight and then left there. And it wasn’t even nine in the morning.

Still, my feet started moving almost on their own, carrying me down the hall and toward Zayn’s wing. The air felt cooler here,

quieter too, like the academy itself was still half–asleep.

Each step felt heavy, my bag bouncing lightly against my hip, my thoughts circling like restless birds. I thought about Mira’s raised eyebrow, about Selene’s teasing grin, about how easily I could have told them everything–and yet hadn’t. I thought about my parents, about lunch yesterday, about the name I used to have, and about the truth I still didn’t fully understand.

By the time I reached the entrance to Zayn’s wing, my chest felt tight again. I slowed my steps, gripping the strap of my bag a little tighter, like it could anchor me.

I didn’t even know what I was hoping for–comfort? A distraction? Just not being alone? Maybe all of it.

And somehow, despite the exhaustion pressing down on me, I felt myself moving a little faster. Toward him. Toward the one place that, right now, didn’t feel suffocating.

By the time I reached his door, my palms were slightly damp. I shifted my bag nervously on my shoulder and hesitated for just a second, staring at the dark wood.

Then I knocked–softly, like I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted him to hear.

The sound of footsteps came almost immediately, muffled but unmistakable, and then the door swung open.

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Zayn stood there, dressed in gray sweatpants and a black hoodie. He blinked at me once, as though he hadn’t expected me so soon,

and then stepped aside without a word, silently inviting me in.

“Hey,” I said, my voice a little quieter than I’d intended.

“Hey,” he echoed, his tone even but his gaze sharp, as though he was already reading my mood.

I stepped inside, the familiar space already making my shoulders loosen a fraction. It smelled like him–clean, faintly woodsy–and

just that was enough to settle some of the storm still buzzing in my chest.

He closed the door behind me and leaned against it, watching me for a moment before he spoke. “You look tired.”

“I am,” I admitted, dropping my bag by his desk and rubbing my face with both hands. “But I couldn’t stay in my room. Not with

everyone there.”

He nodded like he understood, no judgment, no questions–just quiet acceptance.

“You want tea?” he asked suddenly, already moving toward the little electric kettle on top of his dresser.

The question was so simple, so normal, that something in me unclenched. “Yeah,” I said softly. “Tea sounds good.”

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