The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 13

Red Thread–2

She turned abruptly and ran, leaving behind a laughing Nick.

Branches whipped against her arms as she fled deeper into the forest, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The tingling followed her, burning under her skin, pulsing in time with her heart.

What is happening? she screamed inside her mind. What is this?

Her wolf, Avalon, surged forward, no longer timid, no longer uncertain.

Avalon’s voice rang clear and undeniable.

We just met our fated mate.

Iva stumbled.

Her foot caught on a root, and she barely managed to stay upright as the words slammed into her

like a physical blow.

“What?!” she gasped aloud. “What do you mean–what?! Fated? But it is impossible!”

But Avalon didn’t repeat herself.

Because she didn’t need to.

The red thread pulsed once more.

And the truth settled in her bones, cold and terrifying.

Nick.

Her tormentor.

Her humiliation.

Her heartbreak.

Was her fated mate.

And nothing in the world was more cruel than fate itself.

But how did she recognised him?

Her hands shook violently as she pressed them to her chest, right where the red thread had

vanished into her skin.

Her heart was racing–too fast, too loud.

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“Avalon,” she gasped, voice cracking. “Tell me what’s happening. Now.”

Silence stretched for half a heartbeat.

Then her wolf stirred, no longer timid or quiet.

You saw the bond, Avalon said softly.

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Iva let out a broken laugh that bordered on hysteria. “Don’t do that. Don’t speak in riddles. I don’t want softness–I want answers.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “How could he be my fated

mate? How do wolves even know–how do you know? We lost the ability to recognise our fated

mates!”

Avalon’s presence shifted, deeper now, ancient in a way that sent chills down Iva’s spine.

“Fated mates are not recognized by sight,” Avalon began. “Not by desire. Not by kindness. Not even by love.”

Iva clenched her fists. “Then by what?”

“By truth,” Avalon replied. “By resonance of souls. By the Goddess herself.”

Iva shook her head fiercely. “No. No, this is wrong. The Moon Goddess wouldn’t do this to me. She

wouldn’t bind me to someone who despises me.”

Avalon hesitated.

That hesitation was worse than any answer.

“Avalon,” Iva whispered, dread pooling in her stomach. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Her wolf inhaled slowly–if a wolf could inhale inside a soul.

“You were able to see the bond because you were meant to,” Avalon said.

Iva froze.

“What do you mean… meant to?”

Avalon’s voice lowered, carrying a weight that pressed against Iva’s chest like a stormcloud ready 1 to break.

“Not all wolves can see the red thread,” she said. “Not even alphas. Not even kings or Lycans.”

Iva’s breath came shallow. “Then who can?”

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“Messengers.”

Messenger.

creatures… the chosen ones.”

“It is possible,” Avalon replied:

“The Moon Goddess does not choose the loudest,” she said gently. “Nor the strongest. Nor the most

admired.”

“She chooses the ones who remain pure when the world tries to break them.”

reject her wolf even when it cost her everything.

“When you accepted me fully,” she continued, “without resentment, without demand, without anger

toward the Goddess… she heard you.”

“Yes.”

“This is one of the gifts she was mentioning. You are the next Messenger,” Avalon said. “A bridge between fate and free will. A bearer of truth. A seer of bonds.”

Iva staggered back as if struck.

“No,” she whispered. “No–this can’t be real. Messengers are revered. Protected. They don’t-” her

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Red Thread–2

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voice broke, “-they don’t get thrown away. They don’t get sold to barbaric packs. They don’t get

mocked.”

Avalon’s gaze softened painfully.

“The Goddess finds the worthy among the wounded.”

Tears spilled freely now.

“So my reward,” Iva choked, “is seeing the bond that will destroy me? Knowing that my fated mate is someone who looks at me with cruelty?”

Avalon’s voice trembled for the first time.

“Being a Messenger does not mean your path will be kind,” she said. “It means your heart is strong enough to survive it.”

Iva sank to her knees, palms pressed into the forest floor as sobs wracked her body.

“I don’t want this,” she cried. “I didn’t ask for gifts. I just wanted to belong. I just wanted to be

enough.”

Avalon wrapped around her soul like a shield.

“You were enough long before the Goddess noticed you,” she whispered. “And now… the world will

have to.”

And fate–cruel, patient, unstoppable–tightened its grip.

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