The Human Among Wolves Chapter 65

Aurora

His lips were warm and steady, not rushed or demanding like I’d expected—just firm enough to make me melt into him.

I clutched at the front of his shirt, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath, the steady beat of his heart. Kael deepened the kiss slightly, his thumb brushing my cheekbone in a way that made my knees feel unsteady.

And then, almost absently, he reached up with his free hand and tugged the mask from his face, letting it fall to hang from his fingers.

I saw him—really saw him—for the first time.

The moonlight caught the sharp planes of his face, the faint scar cutting across one brow, the slight curve of his mouth. But it was his eyes that made me freeze.

They were silver. Not gray like a storm, not warm like the firelight we’d left behind, but liquid silver — almost glowing under the moon, as if they could see straight through me.

He was beautiful in a way that was hard to look at.

But as I stared up at him, something inside me shifted.

It wasn’t Zayn.

Zayn’s storm-gray eyes had burned into me since the first moment I saw them, wild and unsteady, like the sky before a hurricane. Kael’s gaze was different—steady, calm, a mirror reflecting me back at myself.

And suddenly, I didn’t want to see myself.

The kiss that had felt like a distraction just moments ago now felt like a lie I was telling both of us.

Kael felt the change in me instantly. He stilled, though he didn’t pull away, just waited, his silver eyes searching my face.

“Aurora?” he asked softly, his voice low, careful.

My chest tightened. I swallowed hard, shame clawing up my throat.

“I… I can’t,” I whispered, pulling back until the night air rushed between us again.

Kael didn’t try to stop me. He stepped back immediately, giving me space.

For a moment, the only sound was the wind threading through the branches overhead.

“I thought I could,” I said finally, my voice thin, brittle. “But it just—it feels wrong.”

Kael nodded once, slow and deliberate, like he’d expected that answer.

“No apology needed,” he said gently. “You don’t owe me anything, Aurora.”

Something in his voice—so calm, so unbothered—made my chest ache.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling suddenly cold. “I just… I wanted to forget,” I admitted.

Kael’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But forgetting isn’t the same as healing.”

The words hit like a strike to the ribs, sharp and true.

I couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but stare at him, the moonlight glinting in his silver eyes.

He tucked the mask into his pocket and took a small step back. “We should get you back before someone comes looking for you.”

I nodded, unable to find my voice, and followed him through the trees, back toward the faint glow of the bonfire.

When we stepped back into the clearing, the noise of the party washed over me all at once—the music, the laughter, the crackle of the bonfire. It felt louder now, almost jarring after the quiet of the woods.

Kael glanced at me once, gave me a small nod, and then melted back into the crowd, leaving me standing at the edge of it all.

For a second, I just stood there, my pulse still racing, the silver of his eyes burned into my mind. I dragged in a deep breath, then another, grounding myself before moving deeper into the clearing, scanning for familiar faces.

I spotted Mira first, her pink hair practically glowing under the firelight. She was laughing, a drink in hand, swaying to the music with Lira beside her. Riven stood close, looking her usual cool, collected self—arms crossed, her icy-blue hair glinting every time the flames flared.

But Selene was nowhere in sight.

I made my way over to the three of them, weaving between people until I reached them.

“Where’s Selene?” I asked, raising my voice over the music.

Mira grinned, a little too wide. “Last I saw her, she was heading toward the far side of the clearing with some guy.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Looked like she was about to have a very good night.”

That tugged a reluctant smile out of me, though my chest ached a little too. Selene always did whatever she wanted, completely unapologetic about it—something I secretly admired.

“Of course she was,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“You should have fun too,” Lira said, her golden hair catching the light as she turned toward me. There was no judgment in her voice, just quiet encouragement.

“Yeah,” Mira agreed, bouncing slightly to the music. “You’ve been brooding for weeks, Aurora. Come dance with us. Forget him.”

I hesitated, glancing around the clearing again—half-expecting to see Zayn’s eyes watching me from somewhere in the shadows.

But if he was here, he wasn’t looking at me.

Maybe that was the point.

Maybe this was my chance to stop looking for him too.

“Fine,” I said, surprising even myself with how steady my voice sounded. “Let’s dance.”

Mira’s grin widened, and before I could change my mind, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the throng of bodies near the fire.

The music thumped through the ground, through my shoes, until it was in my chest, syncing with the beat of my heart.

At first, I moved stiffly, self-conscious, aware of every pair of eyes around me — of the way my skirt swished around my thighs, of the chill of the night air against my skin.

But Mira didn’t let me stay in my head. She twirled me once, then twice, laughing when I stumbled into Lira, who just caught me with a smile and spun me back again.

Little by little, the weight in my chest loosened.

The music got louder, the fire brighter, the cold night air warmer.

For one perfect, fleeting moment, I forgot about Zayn. Forgot about Charlotte. Forgot about the words that still sliced me open when I remembered them.

I was breathless by the time the song changed, my hair sticking to my temples, my chest heaving. Mira was laughing at something Lira said, already pulling her toward the firepit to grab drinks, and Riven followed with that quiet, amused look she always wore when she was pretending she wasn’t having fun.

I stayed where I was for a second, letting my heartbeat settle, my fingers brushing the hem of my skirt absently. The air out here felt cooler now, sharp against my flushed skin.

That was when I saw him.

Kael.

He was leaning against one of the big pine trees at the edge of the clearing, half in shadow, his mask dangling from his fingers now. His silver-gray eyes caught the firelight and seemed to hold it, bright and unblinking.

He caught my eye before I could, and that easy, lopsided smile curved across his mouth.

I took a slow breath and made my way over, weaving through the crowd until I stood a few feet from him. “You hiding over here?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Not hiding,” Kael said, straightening lazily. “Observing.”

I arched a brow. “Observing what?”

“You,” he said simply, and it was so blunt, so unbothered, that heat crept up the back of my neck before I could stop it.

“I was dancing,” I said, like that explained anything.

“I noticed.” His mouth curved a little higher, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel like we were suddenly in our own little corner of the world. “You looked like you were actually enjoying yourself.”

I shrugged, trying for casual, though my heart was still hammering. “Maybe I was.”

Kael’s smile softened a fraction, his gaze steady. “Good. You deserve to.”

Something about the way he said it made my throat go tight.

I glanced away, toward the fire where Mira and Lira were still laughing about something, then back at him. “You’re not much of a party guy, are you?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “But… I’m glad I came tonight.”

He didn’t have to say why. The way he was looking at me said enough.

I swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of how close we were to the trees, how quiet it was here compared to the chaos of the party.

Kael’s gaze flicked to my mouth, just for a second, before returning to my eyes. “You want to walk a little?” he asked, nodding toward the darker stretch of forest behind him.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Let’s walk.”

Kael pushed off the tree, slipping his mask into his pocket, and fell into step beside me as we left the firelight behind.

The woods were darker this time, quieter, the sound of the music fading until all I could hear was the crunch of leaves under our feet and my own pulse in my ears.