Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

**Shaky Steps**

**Aurora’s POV**

Since that night, the warmth I once took for granted has slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. Outside, the snow continues its relentless assault, each flake falling like a cold reminder of the chill that has seeped into my very soul. I clutch the hoodie that Raphael gave me, its fabric a feeble shield against the biting cold that wraps around me like a shroud. With hesitant steps, I navigate the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest as I strive to move as quietly as a whisper, acutely aware of the echoes of past arguments that still reverberate in my mind, haunting me even as the house settles into an eerie silence. Here, silence is not a comforting blanket; it is a lurking predator, ready to pounce.

As I pass the library, my gaze is drawn to its door, and a fleeting thought flits through my mind. Maybe I could find sanctuary there, a place to escape the turmoil that churns within me. But the idea of hiding feels like a betrayal to my true self. I want to confront my fears, to face the tempest inside me, not retreat into the shadows.

What I truly seek is the freedom to breathe without the weight of my worries pressing down on me. So, instead of retreating, I quietly slip into the sitting room, where the familiar contours of the couch beckon me like an old friend. I curl up in a corner, seeking solace in the embrace of the cushions that have borne witness to my countless moments of vulnerability. The room is cloaked in darkness, the snow battering the window with a ferocity that mirrors the storm raging within my heart. Yet, in this moment, I find a fragile peace—a temporary reprieve from the chaos that has become my constant companion.

I press my palm against my chest, feeling the rapid thudding of my heart beneath my fingers. Leon’s words echo in my mind, a jumble of confusion and emotion swirling like the snow outside. What he did for me—how he stood up for me—it’s all too overwhelming to process. He defended me. Leon. The mere thought sends a shiver down my spine, a blend of uncertainty and a flicker of hope igniting within me. Perhaps, just perhaps, I can summon the strength to forgive him.

And then there’s Luka. The memory of his fierce expression lingers in my mind, his eyes ablaze with a primal intensity that felt more like a predator ready to pounce than a protector standing guard. His rage was not born out of concern; it was a wild, possessive instinct, like a wolf claiming the last scrap of meat in a barren wilderness.

I wrap my arms tightly around my knees, pulling them closer as if that simple act might shield me from the storm that rages both outside and within. A small, quiet part of me yearns to believe that Leon’s words were genuine; that his defense wasn’t merely a fleeting impulse, a momentary lapse in judgment. But that hopeful part of me is drowned out by fear, silenced by exhaustion. I’m too weary to cling to hope for long.

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