The Human Among Wolves Chapter 193

Aurora

There was silence again. Thick, heavy, suffocating.

I just sat there, staring at the wall across from me like it might give me answers, like it might tell me this wasn’t really happening. My mind went blank in that strange way it does when something hits too close, too fast. I’d been prepared for a lot of things—questions, accusations, even anger—but not this. Not that word.

Mate.

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, and when I finally spoke, my voice barely came out.

“What?” I whispered.

The word sounded fragile, like it might break if I said it any louder. Like if I acknowledged it properly, it would become real in a way I wasn’t ready for.

I waited, holding my breath, half-hoping he’d laugh it off. Tell me he misspoke. Tell me he was wrong.

But he didn’t.

“I know how it sounds,” Kael said quietly, and there was something raw in his voice now, something unguarded. “Believe me, I’ve been telling myself I’m wrong for weeks.”

My chest tightened. “Kael…” I started, then stopped, because I didn’t know what came after that. His name felt heavy on my tongue.

“I didn’t want to say anything,” he continued. “That’s why I didn’t. I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was just familiarity, or concern, or whatever excuse was easiest at the time.” He paused. “But it doesn’t go away. It only gets louder.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, pressing my free hand into the mattress beside me. My thoughts were a mess—Zayn, the bond I already had, everything we’d been through, everything we were. This wasn’t something I could just hear and set aside.

My fingers tightened around my phone, my pulse loud in my ears.

“How… how is that even possible?” I whispered. Saying the words out loud felt unreal, like they belonged to someone else. “Zayn is my mate.”

“I know,” Kael said immediately. There was no hesitation, no disbelief. Just quiet certainty. “I know he is.”

That should have been the end of it. Mate bonds weren’t vague or debatable. They were absolute. Especially for wolves. Especially for someone like me—half wolf, half witch—balanced between instincts and something older, quieter. I hadn’t even shifted yet, and still, the bond with Zayn had been unmistakable. It had settled into me like truth.

“And still,” Kael continued softly, “that doesn’t change what I feel.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight.

“Feelings aren’t the same as a mate bond.”

“No,” he agreed. “They’re not.” A pause. Then, more carefully, “But this isn’t just a crush or a passing pull. It’s… deeper than that.”

“Kael…” I breathed.

“It started at the Halloween party,” he said. “That night.”

My chest constricted.

“I didn’t expect it,” he went on. “Didn’t want it. But when we kissed, something clicked. Like a thread I didn’t know existed suddenly went tight.”

I closed my eyes.

That night came back to me in fragments—music too loud, laughter spilling into the air, the strange electricity I’d brushed off as nerves or excitement. I’d told myself it meant nothing. Just a moment.

“And it didn’t fade after that,” he added quietly. “I tried to ignore it. To bury it. But it stayed.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said, even as doubt stirred uncomfortably in my chest. “If it were real, I would’ve felt it the way I felt Zayn.”

“Maybe,” Kael replied. “Or maybe your wolf would’ve felt it, if she were awake.”

That landed harder than I expected.

I was half something ancient and half something wild, still unformed, still learning where one part ended and the other began. There were gaps in me—places I didn’t fully understand yet.

Still.

“I love Zayn,” I said suddenly.

The words hung in the air between us.

Love.

My breath stuttered as I realized what I’d just said. I went still, my heart pounding.

That was the first time I’d ever said it out loud.

Not just thought it. Not felt it in quiet moments or stolen glances. Said it.

There was no taking it back.

Kael didn’t interrupt. He didn’t react right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle. “I know you do.”

“And that hasn’t changed,” I added, my voice firmer now, steadier. “It won’t.”

“I’m not asking it to,” he said. “I’m not asking you to choose. I just… couldn’t keep pretending there was nothing here. Not when it was eating at me.”

I pressed my lips together, breathing slowly.

“You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want to put this on you,” he replied honestly. “You were happy. You still are. I wasn’t going to be the one to fracture that.”

“Then why now?” I asked quietly.

“Because secrets rot,” he said. “And I didn’t want to be standing next to you, smiling, while lying by omission.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy but not hostile.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” I admitted.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Kael said. “Not now. Maybe not ever. I just needed you to know the truth.”

My grip on the phone loosened, my hand trembling slightly.

“But things won’t be the same,” I said.

“No,” he agreed softly. “They won’t.”

When the call ended, I stayed where I was, phone resting in my palm, my thoughts tangled and restless.

*** * ***

I stayed sitting on my bed longer than I meant to, my phone resting loosely in my hand, my thoughts looping in slow, relentless circles.

Zayn couldn’t know.

No—he can't know.

He already hated Kael enough as it was. Telling him this wouldn’t bring clarity or honesty; it would only bring anger, suspicion, and a fracture I wasn’t ready to face. I wasn’t even sure what this meant yet. All I knew was that I needed time—space to think, to breathe, to understand my own heart before anyone else got dragged into it.

I glanced up at the clock.

5:45 p.m.

With a quiet exhale, I decided to call my mom before going to Zayn’s dorm.

The call connected faster than I expected, and the moment I heard her voice, something in my chest gave way. One sentence turned into another, and before I knew it, I was talking—really talking. Not deflecting. Not dodging. Just… telling the truth.

I apologized. Properly this time.

For being distant.

For being sharp when I didn’t need to be.

For acting like I didn’t need them when the truth was, I always had.

I told them I was sorry for being a shitty daughter. For taking their protection for granted. For forgetting that everything they ever did—even the things I’d resented—came from love. From fear of losing me. From wanting me safe in a world that had never really been gentle.

My mom didn’t interrupt me. She just listened. And when she spoke, there was no accusation in her voice. No disappointment. Just warmth. Steady and familiar.

At one point, I almost asked her what she’d meant the last time we talked—those strange, unfinished words that had stayed with me ever since. But I stopped myself.

That wasn’t a conversation for a phone call. That was something I needed to hear face to face.

We talked for nearly two hours. About small things. About nothing. About everything.

When the call finally ended, I realized I was smiling.

The weight I’d been carrying—heavy and constant, like it had fused to my bones—felt lighter. Not gone. But eased. Like I could finally stand up straight again.

I told them I’d visit soon.

It wasn’t a lie.

I just had a few things I needed to take care of first.

I set my phone down and stood, rolling my shoulders as if shaking off the last of the tension. Then I headed to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the space. The hot water grounded me, washing away the remnants of doubt and exhaustion clinging to my skin.

Afterward, I dressed, packed my bag carefully, and took one last look around my room.

Then I stepped out, locking the door behind me, and made my way toward Zayn’s dorm—my heart steadier than it had been all day, even if my mind was anything but quiet.