The Human Among Wolves Chapter 127

Aurora

The water was hot the moment it hit my skin, steam rolling across the mirrors in thick clouds. I let it run for longer than necessary. Washing him off felt strange— intimate in a different way. Like every drop of water carried a memory from a few minutes ago.

When I finally stepped out, I wrapped the towel around me tightly.

I opened the door slowly, stepping back into the room.

Zayn looked up immediately.

His gaze traveled from the towel knot at my chest down to the bare sliver of thigh peeking beneath the edge. Something in his expression softened and darkened all at once.

Before I could say anything, he reached for me.

“Come here,” he murmured.

His hand slid to my waist, warm against damp skin, and he guided me backward until my calves brushed the mattress. Then he lowered me onto the bed gently, climbing over me, bracing himself with one arm beside my head.

His weight didn’t feel heavy. It felt grounding.

He leaned in slowly—no rush, no hunger this time—and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. Then another to my temple. Then the corner of my mouth. Then my jaw. Then the tip of my nose, and he lingered there, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Zayn…” I whispered.

He didn’t stop. His lips dragged lightly along my throat, brushing the sensitive spot beneath my ear. My breath hitched and my fingers curled into the blanket beneath me.

His voice came out low, rough with something that wasn’t lust anymore. Something warmer. “I can’t get enough of you.”

I swallowed, chest tightening.

“Zayn…” I tried again, softer this time. “You have to… stop.”

He paused—not pulling away completely, just resting his forehead against my jaw. His breath warmed my skin. Another kiss followed, gentle, reluctant.

Then slowly, very slowly, he pushed himself up, giving me room to breathe.

I exhaled shakily, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. “We should… go eat.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, brushing his thumb along my jaw. “Yeah. Before I forget food exists.”

He sat back, giving me space to sit up. I tightened the towel around myself and forced my legs to move. My clothes waited at the foot of the bed, familiar and slightly wrinkled.

I slipped into my jeans, tugging the denim over still-warm skin, and pulled my shirt back on, smoothing it down with shaking fingers. Zayn watched me from the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, quiet and patient.

When I finished tying my shoelaces, he stood and took my hand without a word.

The walk to the canteen was slow, comfortable. The hallways were busy with students, normal voices and normal footsteps, so painfully different from the forest and cabin that it almost made my chest ache.

We ate together, close but quiet, moving through the space like nothing had changed —even though everything had.

When we were done, Zayn didn’t even pretend to ask.

“You’re coming back with me,” he said simply.

And I did.

Back in his room, the air was dimmer now, softer. I climbed into his bed without thinking, slipping under the blanket. Zayn followed immediately after, pulling me back against his chest with one smooth motion.

He buried his face in my hair, arms locking around me like I might disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough.

I let myself melt into him, breathing in the scent of him, letting it anchor me.

This time, when sleep found me, I didn’t fight it.

*** * ***

I woke up slowly, drifting into consciousness like surfacing through warm water. The room was quiet, dim, and still. For a moment I couldn’t even remember where I was—not the cabin, not the forest, not the nightmare loop.

Then I felt an arm tighten around my waist.

Zayn.

His chest pressed against my back, steady and warm. His breath brushed the back of my neck in slow, even waves. I didn’t move at first. I just lay there, eyes still closed, letting the safety of it sink in. The weight of his arm. The heat of his skin. The softness of the blanket pooled around our legs.

After everything we’d been through—after the fear, the dark, the screaming beneath the floor—the simple quiet felt unreal.

Eventually, he shifted. His nose brushed lightly against my shoulder as he inhaled, waking up.

“You’re still here,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

“So are you,” I whispered back, turning just enough to glimpse his face—hair messy, eyes half-open, lips soft with exhaustion.

His fingers flexed at my hip, like he needed the reminder that I was real. “Good,” he breathed, pulling me a little closer. “I thought maybe I dreamt you.”

I smiled, small and tired. “I’m definitely not a dream.”

His eyes lifted to mine, slow and unfocused. “I know,” he said softly. “Dreams don’t hold on like this.”

He pressed his forehead to the back of my shoulder, exhaling a long, steady breath. I felt it warm against my skin.

Zayn’s breath warmed a slow path along my shoulder, his arm still wrapped around my waist like it belonged there. For a while, neither of us spoke. There was no urgency, no rush, just the quiet hum of two people who had survived something together and didn’t quite know how to step back into the normal world yet.

Eventually, he shifted again, nuzzling just beneath my ear—not a kiss, not really, just a lazy morning touch. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

I opened my eyes fully this time, blinking toward the faint light slipping through the curtains. “Late,” I said. “Maybe… noon?”

He groaned into my shoulder. “Good. I don’t care.”

I laughed softly, the sound muffled against the pillow. “We should probably get up at some point.”

“No,” he said immediately, tightening his grip. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that in the forest,” I teased.

“That was different,” he murmured. “You were freezing. Now you’re warm.”

I felt warmth creep up my neck. “Zayn…”

He hummed. A soft, content sound. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re definitely doing something,” I said, wriggling just a little.

His arm slipped higher, fingers sliding around my ribs, his thumb brushing the fabric of my shirt in slow, idle strokes that made my stomach flutter. “I’m holding you,” he corrected, voice still gravelly from sleep. “That’s allowed.”

I swallowed, trying and failing to calm the sudden burst of electricity under my skin. “It’s… nice.”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he pulled me closer, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could look past me, out toward the dim light.

A long, quiet moment stretched.

Then he spoke, voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

“Aurora,” he said. “About yesterday.”

I turned in his arms, just enough so I could see his face. His eyes were awake now. Clear. Focused.

No teasing. No heat.

Just Zayn.

“I keep thinking about it,” he murmured. “The cabin. The forest. Losing track of time. Waking up and not knowing what day it was. It shouldn’t be possible.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But it happened.”

His hand slid up my spine, slow and thoughtful. “I’m not trying to figure it out,” he said. “Not right this second. I just… don’t like that you went through that. That you were scared. That I wasn’t—” He cut himself off, jaw clenching briefly. “I hated it.”

“Zayn…” I reached up, brushing my fingers through the messy strands of his hair. “You were there. You didn’t leave me. That’s what matters.”