The Human Among Wolves Chapter 83

Aurora

“That’s not all,” I said, my voice low at first, then firmer as I turned my whole body toward him, forcing him to meet my gaze. His eyes flicked to mine briefly, a quick glance, like he was measuring me, weighing my words before returning his focus to the road.

“I… I was left on a bridge when I was only ten years old,” I began, swallowing hard as the memory pressed against the edges of my mind. “I didn’t have any memories—nothing. Just my name. Aurenya. That’s all I had. My… my now parents found me, took me in, and named me Aurora. And… and that’s how it started. The rest… school, academy, all of it. I thought it was just a normal college, a normal life.” My hands twisted in my lap, the story spilling out faster than I expected.

“But it’s not,” I admitted, a sigh escaping me, almost unintentional. “It’s never been normal. And then… I found a book.” My voice caught slightly, the words strange on my tongue, heavy with the weight of what they carried.

“The book… with my name in it,” I continued, careful not to mention the Warden, deliberately leaving him out. “It’s… enchanted. Locked in a way I can’t just open. That’s why I… I wanted to try to unlock it, with the Latin spell book I found.”

“So…” he began, his voice slow, like he was tasting each word before letting it out. There was a pause, a careful, almost deliberate pause, as if he was letting the absurdity of what I’d just told him sink in. “Your real name is Aurenya,” he said finally, his tone sharp with incredulity. “And you’re… a human. Somehow ended up in the academy for… werewolves. And then—you just… found the books? Just like that? Seriously?”

He raised an eyebrow, that perfect mix of skepticism and disbelief that made it impossible to hide anything. I could almost see the corners of his brain twisting around the story, trying to make sense of it, trying to fit it into some logical pattern that didn’t exist.

“I… I don’t think I’m human,” I said slowly, my voice quieter than I expected; almost like saying it aloud made it more real. I hesitated for a moment, gathering myself before I added, “And yes… I found those books.”

There was a flicker in his expression then, a subtle shift, that tiny moment where doubt met something else—curiosity, maybe, or just the undeniable fact that he had no idea what he was actually dealing with. I watched him carefully, waiting for the inevitable questions, the disbelief, and the edge in his voice that would come next.

“Oh wow,” he said at last, the words dragging out of him like they’d been sitting on his tongue for minutes. His tone was unreadable—somewhere between disbelief and quiet amusement—but the silence that followed was heavier than either.

We didn’t speak after that. The car hummed softly beneath us, the engine’s low rumble filling the air as the world outside slipped by in streaks of muted color. My thoughts tangled themselves into knots, looping back on the conversation again and again until I wasn’t sure if I regretted telling him or not.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, I felt the car slow. My eyes flicked to the windshield just as the tires crunched against gravel. Kael pulled the wheel gently, steering us to the side of the road until the car rolled to a stop.

My stomach tightened. “Why… why did you stop?” I asked, my voice a little too small, a little too unsure.

He exhaled, one hand still resting on the steering wheel while the other ran through his hair—a habit I’d noticed he did when he was trying to find the right words. Then he turned to me, his expression serious in a way I wasn’t used to seeing. The usual teasing spark in his eyes was gone.

“Look, Princess,” he said quietly, almost gently. “This—” he gestured vaguely between us, “—this won’t work unless we’re completely honest with each other.”

I swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, how the air in the car felt a little too still, a little too charged. My hands fidgeted in my lap, and for once, I didn’t have anything smart or sarcastic to say.

“I—I was being honest,” I stammered, my voice breaking a little as the words left my mouth. My fingers twisted together in my lap, cold and tense, and I could feel the heat of his gaze even though I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at him.

Kael didn’t say anything right away. The only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine and the soft rustle of the wind outside, brushing against the trees that lined the empty road. When he finally did speak, his voice was low—not sharp or mocking, but calm in a way that made it sting even more.

“No,” he said quietly, turning his head toward me. “You haven’t, Aurora.”

My breath caught. The way he said my name—my real name—made my pulse stutter.

I turned to him, my throat suddenly dry. “What—what did you just call me?”

“Aurora,” he repeated, his tone steady but his eyes softer now, studying me like he was piecing something together. “Or…” He hesitated, leaning back slightly. “Should I say Aurenya?”

“Stop it.”

Kael’s brows lifted slightly, that infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t smiling in the way he usually did—the half-teasing, half-charming grin that made people drop their guard. No, this was different. This one was colder. Amused. Mocking.

“Don’t call me that,” I said, my voice lower now, almost a warning. I could feel my pulse in my throat, my hands curling into fists on my lap.

He let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head a little like he couldn’t help himself. “Stop what?” he asked, voice dripping with that infuriating mix of curiosity and condescension.

“You know what,” I said through my teeth. I finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes—and instantly regretted it. His gaze was steady, too steady, the kind that made you feel like he already knew every word you were about to say.

The car was filled with the soft, distant sound of crickets outside and the hum of the cooling engine.

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. “It’s your name, isn’t it?” he said, voice quiet but cutting. “Aurenya.”

I flinched.

He saw it. And of course, he smiled wider.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” I said, my voice trembling just enough to give me away. “But you’re being mean.”

His lips twitched—not quite a smile, not quite a frown. Something in between. “Mean?” he repeated, his tone low and dark, almost amused. “Oh, Princess…” He leaned closer, and the sound of the nickname made my stomach twist. “…you haven’t seen mean.”

Before I could pull back, his hand shot out, fingers gripping my chin firmly, tilting my face up toward his.

“Kael—” I started, but he cut me off with a quiet scoff. His eyes glinted, sharp and unreadable in the dim light spilling from the dashboard.

“When you need help with a witch,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of my jaw, “when you need someone to drive you halfway across the damn city in the middle of the night—I’m good enough for that, huh?”

His voice dropped lower, each word slower, deliberate. “But when it comes to telling me the whole truth…” His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me freeze. “…then I’m not good enough. That about right?”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loud I swore he could hear it. The air between us felt heavy—thick with something I couldn’t name, something that made it hard to breathe.

“Kael,” I whispered, trying to pull my face back, but his gaze held me still.

He let out a quiet, humorless laugh and released me, his hand falling back to the steering wheel. “That’s what I thought.”