The Human Among Wolves Chapter 24

Aurora

The path toward Zayn’s wing felt longer than it should have, every step scraping against my nerves. My shoes whispered against the stone, and the cold seemed sharper here, the wind knifing between the buildings. Or maybe it was just me, second-guessing every decision that led me this far.

I told him I didn’t need him. That I didn’t want him hovering around like some shadow I couldn’t shake. And I meant it… at the time. So what would it look like if I showed up now, after everything? After Raulf vanished and the new warden slid into place without explanation?

Pathetic. Desperate. Weak.

I clenched my jaw, shoving those words down, but they still echoed in my skull.

The truth was, Zayn did know things. More than he let on. More than he should. He had that way of dropping little pieces of information, sharp enough to make me curious but never the whole truth. And last night… gods, last night he looked at me differently. Like he knew something I didn’t. Like he was waiting for me to figure it out.

My hands balled into fists inside my pockets. Maybe that was why I hated him. Or maybe it was why I couldn’t stay away.

I slowed when the corridor narrowed, the torches along the walls spitting orange light into the dim stretch ahead. This was the wing where the higher-ranked students lived—quieter, cleaner, heavier with unspoken rules. My heart thudded louder than my footsteps.

I paused at the corner, staring down the row of doors. His was near the end. I knew it, even without looking for the carved number plate.

The smart thing to do would be to turn around. Pretend I never came here. Keep my distance like I promised myself I would.

But then I thought of Raulf’s empty office. Of the book in my dorm room. Of the whisper in my dream last night, curling through the woods like a threat. The sealed file with my name on it.

I needed answers. And whether I liked it or not, Zayn was the only one who might have them.

Drawing in a sharp breath, I forced my legs to move. Step after step, slower with every pace, like maybe the world would give me a chance to turn back. It didn’t.

Finally, I stood in front of his door. My hand hovered in the air, shaking just slightly before I even touched the wood.

One knock. That was all it would take.

I swallowed hard, my pulse drumming in my ears.

By now, the morning felt like it had stretched into something heavier, every decision layered on top of the last.

And then—I knocked.

The knock echoed in the quiet hall, softer than I meant it to. For a few heartbeats, nothing.

Then came the sound of footsteps inside, slow and heavy, dragging like whoever was moving wasn’t in a rush to meet me. The handle clicked, and the door opened.

Zayn stood there, framed in the doorway. His hair was mussed, his shirt half-buttoned, shadows under his eyes, the kind that came from stress, not rest. He didn’t look surprised to see someone there—just annoyed.

“Charlotte, I told you—” His voice cut off the instant his gaze landed on me. His whole expression shifted, the irritation shuttering into something more guarded.

“Aurora.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. I was too caught up in the fact that he’d clearly been expecting someone else.

“Not who you were waiting for?” I asked dryly, arching a brow.

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t answer that. Instead, his voice came out rough. “What are you doing here?”

I hesitated. This was already harder than I thought it would be. “I need to talk to you. It’s… important.”

He searched my face for a long moment, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Then he let out a slow breath, stepping back from the doorway.

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling the door open wider. “Come in.”

I stepped inside; the air of his dorm was colder than I expected. The curtains were half-drawn, the room dim except for the the pale afternoon light, already losing warmth cutting across the floor. His desk was cluttered with books and papers scattered in a way that felt frantic rather than messy, and an untouched plate of food sat on the nightstand, already cold.

I hovered near the door, suddenly unsure if I’d made a mistake coming here. He didn’t offer me a seat, just leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, watching me with that unreadable look that made my chest tighten.

“Talk,” he said finally.

The single word felt heavy, pressing at me.

I swallowed, shifting my weight. “I went to see Warden Raulf this morning.”

That got a reaction. His posture straightened just slightly, his eyes narrowing in the shadows. “And?”

“And he’s gone,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. “There’s someone else in his office. A woman. She called herself Mrs. Ashtrong—the new warden. She said she didn’t even know who Raulf was.”

Zayn’s jaw ticked. He didn’t speak, but the silence stretched, thick with something unsaid.

“I don’t know what that means,” I went on, trying to keep my voice steady, “but it can’t be nothing. Not after the book. Not after everything he showed us. He just… disappears? That’s not normal.”

I waited for him to say something, to agree, to deny, or anything. But all he did was stare at me, his expression unreadable. The weight of it made me shift uncomfortably.

Finally, I added, almost against my own will, “You’re the only one who knows what happened that night. The others don’t. I thought maybe… maybe you’d understand.”

His gaze softened then, just a fraction, but it was enough to make my heart skip. He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly, and muttered under his breath, “Fuck."

Zayn stayed quiet for another long moment, like he was weighing something in his head. His eyes flicked past me, toward the door, then back. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough.

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s not normal"

I froze. “So you think it’s connected?”

Zayn’s jaw tightened, but he nodded once. “The book. Whatever he showed us… someone didn’t want him showing it.”

A chill ran through me, cold and sharp. “But why? What was in it that’s so dangerous?”

He let out a humorless laugh, bitter at the edges. “Aurora, you don’t hide things like that unless they matter. And trust me—they matter.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends like he could shake the thoughts out. “Raulf knew too much. Maybe he thought he could outsmart whoever’s pulling the strings here. But if he’s gone now, then…”

He didn’t finish the thought, but he didn’t have to.

I hugged my arms around myself. “You sound like you’ve seen this before.”

For a second, his mask slipped. Something flickered in his eyes—memory, regret, fear. He turned away, pacing a few steps like he couldn’t stand still.

“I grew up with secrets,” he said finally. “With people vanishing, people silenced, because they asked the wrong questions or dug too deep. My father—" He broke off, snapping his mouth shut, shaking his head.

I took a step closer before I even realized it. “Your father what?”

His gaze snapped to mine, sharp but unsteady. For a heartbeat, it felt like he might actually tell me. But then he dragged in a breath and looked away.

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “What matters is this—Raulf didn’t just quit. He was taken out of the picture. And if we’re not careful, we’ll be next.”

The words hit me like ice water. I swallowed hard. “Then what do we do?”

Zayn finally met my eyes again. There was something fierce there now, something that made my stomach twist in a way I didn’t want to examine. “We find out what’s in that book. In the file that has your name on it,” he said. “Before whoever did this to Raulf decides to come for us.”