The Human Among Wolves Chapter 34

Aurora

“Funny thing is…” I started, the words slipping out before my brain could catch up with my mouth. “I’m not even a werewolf. Until two weeks ago I thought I was human. Just… human. But now?” I laughed, short and bitter. “Now I don’t fucking know.”

The admission hung in the air like smoke, filling the room, impossible to pull back. My chest tightened as soon as I realized what I’d said. My lips clamped shut, but it was too late.

Zade froze. For the first time since I’d met him, he actually looked caught off guard. His smirk faltered, just slightly, and his eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating.

“Not a werewolf…” he repeated, his voice low, almost like he was testing the weight of the words. He took a slow step forward, then another, circling me in that way predators circle prey. “Then what exactly are you?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I… I don’t know,” I admitted, hating how small my voice sounded. “That’s the problem. Nobody seems to know.”

Zade stopped right in front of me, his shadow spilling over mine. He tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming, studying me as if he could peel away my skin and see what was buried underneath. “No wolf scent… no human either,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Interesting. Very… interesting.”

He reached up, as if to brush a strand of hair from my face, and I flinched before I could stop myself. His hand hovered for a moment, then dropped back to his side, his mouth curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Does Zayn know?” he asked suddenly, voice sharp.

My stomach dropped. I didn’t answer.

Zade chuckled darkly at my silence, shaking his head. “Of course he does. That explains everything. Why he rejected Charlotte. Why he’s risking his place for some… mystery girl.” His eyes flicked back to me, and there was hunger in them now—not the kind that made me blush, but the kind that made me want to run.

Before I could say anything else, or even think about bolting for the door, his voice cut through the silence again.

“Then tell me this,” Zade said, his eyes narrowing as though he could drag the truth out of me by sheer force. “What are you doing at this Academy if you’re not a werewolf—and until two weeks ago you thought you were nothing more than human?”

I froze, my breath catching. His tone wasn’t casual curiosity. It was sharp, probing, a test. And something in the way he was watching me told me that whatever answer I gave, he’d know if I was lying.

My tongue felt heavy, my palms damp against the edge of Zayn’s desk where I braced myself. Finally, I forced the words out, each one careful and measured. “That’s… a long story.”

Zade arched a brow, waiting, as if daring me to try him.

I exhaled shakily, pressing on. “I enrolled here thinking it was just… a normal college. For humans. I didn’t know it was some Academy for werewolves and Lycans and… whatever else exists in this insane world.” My voice wavered, but I kept going, eyes flicking away from his intense stare. “But once I got here, once I saw it for what it really was—I stayed.”

His smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth again, though his eyes never softened. “You stayed,” he repeated, slowly, like he was turning the word over in his mind. “A human girl finds herself in the middle of monsters, realizes she doesn’t belong, and instead of running for her life, she… stays.”

He leaned in slightly, enough to make my pulse quicken. “Why?”

I swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. My throat burned with the weight of the truth—the book, the visions, the dreams, Zayn—but I couldn’t give him that. Not Zade. Not when I barely trusted him to keep breathing near me without tearing me apart.

“Because…” I hesitated. “Because maybe I wanted answers. About myself. About what I am—or what I’m not. And this place… this place seemed like the only shot I had at finding them.”

Zade chuckled low in his throat, though there was no warmth in the sound. He studied me, eyes sharp, calculating, like a predator assessing whether prey might be more than it seems. “Brave,” he murmured. “Or foolish. I’m still deciding which.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze, even though my heart was hammering. “Maybe both.”

That earned me a glint in his eyes—something almost like amusement, though dark and dangerous. He tilted his head, smirking, but there was nothing kind in it. “Well, Aurora,” he said finally, voice curling around my name like smoke, “if you think answers are what you’ll find here… then you’ve clearly never met my father.”

“Wasn’t going to,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to, but I couldn’t take it back.

I forced myself to look up at him, gathering whatever courage I could scrape together. “Can you please… not tell anyone?” My throat felt tight, words shaky as they slipped out. “I know we just met, and you’re obviously not my biggest fan, but no one can know. About me. About what I said.”

For a moment, Zade just studied me, silent, his dark eyes roaming over my face like he was weighing my worth, deciding whether I was lying or if keeping my secret was even worth his time. That silence stretched on long enough to make my chest ache.

Finally, he gave a single nod. “Alright, beautiful,” he said smoothly, that damn smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll keep your secret. But under one condition.”

I almost rolled my eyes—almost. With him, there was always something. Always strings, always games. My stomach twisted with irritation and nerves. “What?” I asked, bracing myself. *Don’t ask me something stupid. Don’t ask me something stupid.*

He leaned back slightly, folding his arms over his chest with the ease of someone who knew he had the upper hand. “Stay away from Zayn.”

Oh.

That was… not what I expected. For a second, all I could do was blink at him, surprised. But then, the reality sank in, and relief flickered faintly through me. That? That I could do. That was easy.

“Okay,” I said, nodding quickly, too quickly. “Deal.”

I looked toward the door. “I have to go now,” I added, my voice too tight, too hurried. I turned before he could say anything else, before I could mess up and let something slip that I’d regret forever.

Because if I stayed a second longer, I knew I’d be stupid enough to ask. Stupid enough to let the questions that had been clawing at me since I got here finally tumble out of my mouth—like *who was the woman his father kept locked in the basement? Did he know about her? Did he care? And if he did know, how could he possibly sleep at night—*

The door opened before I could even reach for it.

I froze, eyes snapping up.

And there he was.

Zayn.

He stood in the doorway, tall and broad, shoulders tense like he was carrying the weight of the world. His eyes—those stormy, unreadable eyes—landed on me first, then flicked past my shoulder to his brother, and then back to me.

For a moment, he didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. He looked at me like I wasn’t real, like he’d just seen something—or someone—he wasn’t supposed to. Like a ghost had stepped out of his past and was standing in front of him.

And he was alone.

No King at his side.

No father looming behind him.

Just Zayn, standing there with an expression I couldn’t read, a flicker of shock and something darker tightening his jaw.

My own breath caught, the air heavy between the three of us.

“Zayn,” I whispered, his name leaving my lips before I could stop it.