The Human Among Wolves Chapter 192

Aurora

After our talk, things didn’t magically feel better—but they felt quieter. Less sharp. Like we’d both decided to place the weight of everything down for a moment, even if it was just temporary.

We showered, got dressed, and left the room together. The halls were still mostly empty, winter break doing its job. A few students passed us here and there, familiar faces but no real conversations. I was grateful for that. I didn’t have the energy to explain myself to anyone.

The cafeteria was open, though quieter than usual. Long tables half-empty, the hum of machines and low chatter filling the space instead of voices. We grabbed breakfast—nothing special, just whatever was available—and sat near the windows.

For a while, we didn’t talk much. We ate in silence, the kind that wasn’t awkward, just thoughtful. I watched the snow outside, the way it softened everything it touched, and tried not to think too far ahead.

Zayn broke the quiet first.

“We should go into town after this,” he said casually, like it was just another errand. “Get you contact lenses.”

I paused, my fork hovering for a second before I nodded. “Blue ones.”

“I figured.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair, letting out a slow breath. “I really don’t want attention right now. Not stares. Not questions.”

He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But I also don’t want to deal with it.”

He nodded, understanding without pushing. That was one of the things I loved about him—he didn’t try to fix me. He just stood there with me.

We finished eating, cleared our trays, and left the cafeteria together. The academy felt almost hollow as we walked through it, like it was holding its breath until everyone returned.

Going into town felt like the right next step. Something normal. Something small.

And right now, that was enough.

*** * ***

After we bought the contact lenses, I thought we were done.

We weren’t.

Zayn glanced at a boutique window as we passed it, then slowed. Then stopped. Then turned fully toward me with that look—the one that meant he’d already made a decision and my opinion was more of a courtesy than a requirement.

“You need new clothes,” he said.

I stared at him. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

“Rude.”

He smiled like he enjoyed that. “Come on.”

By stepping into a few boutique shops, I really meant Zayn gently—but persistently—dragging me inside each one, ignoring my protests like they were background noise.

He picked things out with alarming confidence, holding pieces up against me, tilting his head like he was genuinely evaluating them.

Somehow, against my better judgment, I ended up liking a few of them.

A sweater. A jacket. A pair of boots I definitely didn’t plan on buying.

Traitorous, really.

When we finally left the last shop, we stopped at a small restaurant tucked between two narrow buildings. Nothing fancy. Warm lights. Wooden tables. The kind of place that felt quiet even when people were inside it.

Lunch was easy. Comfortable. We talked about small things—nothing heavy, nothing sharp. I laughed more than I expected to. For a little while, it felt almost normal. Like the world wasn’t cracking open beneath our feet.

Afterward, we drove back to the academy.

The closer we got, the heavier my chest felt. Not because I didn’t want to be there—but because reality had a way of catching up the moment you stopped moving.

When we parked and stepped out of the car, I hesitated.

“Zayn,” I said quietly.

He looked at me immediately. “Yeah?”

“I need a little space for a bit.”

His brows drew together, just slightly.

“Space?”

“I need to make some calls,” I explained. “Talk to my parents.”

That part wasn’t a lie. I really did need to call them. I’d been putting it off, and guilt had a way of settling in when you ignored it long enough.

But it wasn’t the whole truth.

There was someone else I needed to talk to.

Kael.

The thought of his name alone made my stomach twist. I hated keeping things from Zayn. But every time his name even came close to my lips, I felt Zayn’s mood shift. It was subtle, but it was always there. Tension tightening his shoulders. His jaw setting like he’d tasted something bitter.

Zayn studied my face for a moment, like he was deciding whether to push or let it go.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay. Take your time.”

I gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

As I turned toward my dorm, my phone felt heavier in my pocket than it should have.

As I stepped into my dorm room, the door closing softly behind me, the quiet hit all at once. It felt strange being back here, like I’d left a version of myself behind and only now noticed the gap.

I dropped the shopping bags onto the table without really looking at them and sat down on my bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. My phone felt heavy in my hand, like it knew what I was about to do and wanted to warn me.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds longer than necessary.

Then I called Kael.

It rang once.

Twice.

I almost hung up.

“Hello?”

His voice came through the speaker, familiar and grounding and somehow too much all at once.

“Hey,” I said quietly. My throat felt tight. “It’s me. I got your message. You said you needed to talk to me… that it was urgent.”

There was silence on the other end. Not the kind where the call drops, but the kind where someone is still there, just thinking. Breathing. Choosing words carefully.

“Oh… hey,” he said finally, slow and

measured, like he was testing the sound of his own voice. “Yeah. I—I didn’t know if you’d call.”

“I almost didn’t,” I admitted, staring at the floor between my feet. “But I couldn’t just… not.”

Another pause. I could almost picture him, running a hand through his hair the way he always did when he was stressed.

“I heard you left,” he said. Not accusing. Just stating it. “You kind of disappeared.”

“I know,” I said softly. “I’m sorry. Things got… complicated. Fast.”

“That seems to be a pattern with you,” he replied, and there was a hint of something in his tone—concern, maybe. Or worry dressed up as teasing.

I huffed out a small breath. “Yeah. Guess so.”

More silence. It stretched, not uncomfortable exactly, but heavy. Like there were too many things sitting between us, waiting to be named.

“So,” he said at last, “are you okay?”

The question shouldn’t have hit me as hard as it did. I leaned back onto my hands, staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t even know how to answer that,” I said honestly. “I’m not hurt. I’m safe. But okay?” I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “That’s… complicated.”

He didn’t push. That was always Kael’s thing. He waited.

“I sent that message because something felt off,” he said slowly. “You don’t just leave without a word. Not like that. I figured something serious had to be going on.”

He wasn’t wrong. And that somehow made it worse.

“I didn’t want to lie to you,” I said. “But I also didn’t know how to explain everything over text. Or at all.”

“You don’t have to explain everything,” he replied. “Just… enough so I know you’re not in trouble.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. “I’m not in trouble,” I repeated. “I promise.”

Another pause. Shorter this time.

“Okay,” he said. “Then I’ll take that.”

There was relief in his voice, and it loosened something tight in my chest.

“I’m back at the academy now,” I added. “For a bit.”

“That’s good,” he said. “That’s… really good.”

The silence between us stretched.

“Kael?” I said after a few seconds.

“Yes?”

“Is everything okay?” I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the phone. “I mean… your message sounded urgent. Do you need to tell me something else?”

Silence stretched between us again. Not the comfortable kind—the kind that presses on your chest, that makes you hyper-aware of your own breathing. I could almost hear him thinking, weighing every word he hadn’t said yet.

Then he exhaled, long and heavy, like he’d been holding that breath for days.

“I don’t want to complicate things,” he said quietly.

My stomach tightened. “Complicate?” I frowned, sitting up straighter. “What do you—”

“I think,” he cut in, his voice low and steady despite the weight of the words, “you’re my mate.”