The Human Among Wolves Chapter 86

Aurora

Aurenya.”

My name—my real name—rolled off her tongue. She was looking straight at me.

My lips parted, but no words came out. “How do you—”

Seraphina smiled, slow and sharp, like a blade being drawn. “I’m a witch, sweetheart,” she said softly, her voice rasping but strangely smooth at the same time. “I know all.”

She started walking toward us, her movements unhurried, every step making the floorboards creak.

“Nice to see you too, Kael,” she added, her tone shifting slightly, amused. “You’ve really grown up.”

Kael didn’t say anything, but I felt the tension in his hand through mine—his knuckles tightening for a split second before he let go.

Seraphina’s attention flicked back to me, and the faint smile returned to her lips. “Now… shall we start?”

I nodded.

She turned away and walked toward the fireplace, the hem of her cloak dragging lightly across the floor. The flames reflected in her eyes as she sat down in a tall, wooden chair that looked far too old and heavy for the room.

“Sit down, sweetheart,” she said, gesturing to the chair across from her with one long, pale finger.

Her tone was calm—almost kind—but there was something about the way she said it that made it sound less like an invitation and more like a command.

I hesitated for a second, glancing at Kael, but he only gave me a small nod, silent and tense.

So, I took a slow breath, walked forward, and sat down in the chair across from the witch—my heartbeat loud enough to drown out the crackle of the fire between us.

I reached for my backpack, my fingers trembling slightly as I pulled it closer onto my lap. I unzipped it and took out the first book—the Latin one.

I hesitated, then extended it toward her. “It’s in Latin,” I said quietly. “I was told you could translate it and… unlock the second book.”

Seraphina didn’t move for a moment. Her red eyes flicked from my face to the book in my hands, and then—just as I was about to set it down on the small table between us—she waved her fingers dismissively.

“Honey,” she said, voice low but sharp enough to slice through the silence, “this book won’t help you.”

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no spell in that book that will unlock words.”

She hadn’t even touched it, hadn’t even looked at the pages. She didn’t need to. Of course she knew.

My stomach tightened. “Then… what? We came here for nothing?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

Seraphina shook her head slowly, her long gray hair brushing against her shoulders. “No, not for nothing,” she said, her tone softening just a fraction. “I can still help you, dear. But I’ll need the other book.”

I swallowed hard and reached into my bag again, my movements careful, almost reverent this time. The second book—the one that mattered—was colder to the touch, its surface almost humming with a strange, faint pulse. I passed it to her without saying anything.

She took it delicately, like it was something alive, and placed it on her lap. Her long fingers traced the edges before she opened it to the first blank page.

“I can unlock it,” she said after a pause, her eyes flicking back up to me. “Really quite easily.”

There was something in her voice—something too casual to be comforting.

“But…” she continued, leaning forward slightly, the firelight casting deep shadows across her scarred face, “I need you to understand something first.”

My throat felt dry. “Something?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. All magic comes with a price.”

I stared at her, not sure I understood. Her expression didn’t change, but her eyes seemed to darken.

“So… will you be ready,” she said softly, almost kindly, “to pay that price?”

I opened my mouth to answer her—to ask what exactly she meant by price—but before I could get a word out, Seraphina’s lips curved into something that might have been a smile… or a threat.

“Or,” she said lightly, almost playfully, as if she were offering me a cup of tea instead of an ultimatum, “I could burn both of these books right now and tell you myself what I think is written inside.”

For a moment, I just stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Burn them? The words didn’t register at first, not really. Then, when they did, I felt a rush of panic so sharp it made my chest ache.

“Burn them?” I repeated, my voice breaking slightly. “After everything I went through to get them?”

Her eyes gleamed in the firelight, red and unreadable.

“Books are only tools, sweetheart,” she said with a shrug, her tone far too calm. “Sometimes what they hold can be spoken aloud instead. If you’re brave enough to hear it.”

I tightened my grip on the edge of the chair, trying to steady my hands. “How would you even know what’s written in it?” I managed to say, though my voice was trembling. “It’s about me—and you don’t even know me.”

Seraphina tilted her head slightly, her gray hair sliding over her shoulder as she regarded me with something like pity.

“Oh, honey,” she murmured, her voice low and unsettlingly tender. “I know more about you than you do yourself.”

I looked at Kael. He was standing close by, not backing away, watching me. For a second I worried he’d say no—that he’d pull me out of there, or demand we leave. Instead, he gave the smallest of nods. I trusted him. Stupidly, probably, but I trusted him.

I turned back to Seraphina. Her smile was slow and knowing, the kind that made the back of my neck prickle. “Fine,” I said, the word coming out thinner than I’d planned. “Do it.”

She clapped once, a soft, dry sound that seemed to echo off the rafters. “Good,” she said, and there was a curious gentleness in her voice that didn’t match the hard lines of her face. “But it won’t be free either.”

“What… what do you want?” I asked, my throat tight.

She tilted her head, the firelight sketching shadows into the scar on her cheek. “I don’t know yet.” Her answer was casual, almost careless. “Someday I will come to you and ask a favor. You will do it. If you refuse, you die. That is the price.”

The sentence landed like a stone dropped in still water. My heart stumbled. I should have laughed, protested, demanded better terms. Instead, I found myself nodding, the motion almost automatic. “Deal,” I whispered.

With that single, awful syllable, Seraphina rose as if to perform something sacred. She reached out—and without another word dropped both books into the flames.

As the books turned to ash, something cold slid under my ribs. A small, panicked voice in the back of my head shouted that I’d just destroyed the only proof of what I was, the only map I had to whatever lay hidden in those blank pages. Maybe I’d just handed the answers back to the person who wanted them most.

Seraphina didn’t look at me as the books burned. She watched the flames like a woman reading someone else’s thoughts. Finally she sat back down, folding her hands in her lap as if the ritual were already complete.

“You will know,” she said after a while, as if answering the question I hadn’t formed. “I will tell you what is written. But remember—the favor. It will come.”

I swallowed. The heat from the fire warmed my face and did nothing to warm the cold tightening my chest. Ash drifted up and hung in the air between us like small gray snowflakes, and I couldn’t tell whether the tightness inside me was fear, relief, or the stupid, stubborn hope that maybe—just maybe—this would set something right.

As the last curls of smoke climbed the chimney, a thought snuck in and refused to leave: had I just made the biggest mistake of my life?