The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 361

The Attack

“Who attacked?” Caleb demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Give me names. Packs. Anything. I need to know who we’re dealing with.”

The messenger swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with visible effort.

“Mixed messages, Your Highness. Conflicting reports from the field. Some are saying it’s the northern packs-allies of the former Alpha Calin who want to avenge his death and reclaim the territory. Others are

saying it’s rogues.”

The King’s aura flared, filling the room with a suffocating weight of authority. His eyes blazed with cold fury.

“And Attia? Lori? Where are they now?”

The messenger opened his mouth to respond, his lips trembling, but before he could speak, the dining hall doors swung open with a crash.

Attia strode in, his face carved from stone. Behind him, Lori followed, her face pale but determined, her eyes red-rimmed from tears she refused to shed.

Attia’s gaze swept across the room, landing on Caleb with an intensity that brooked no argument.

“I need to go there,” he said, his voice flat but urgent, every word weighted with the gravity of the situation.

Caleb’s jaw tightened, his amber eyes narrowing with concern.

“Attia, it could be a trap. Too many unknowns. We don’t even know who we’re dealing with-northern packs, rogues, or something else entirely. Walking into that situation blind is suicide.”

“I know.” Attia’s voice was steady, but there was a tremor beneath it. “But I can’t abandon them. Meriem chose me as their Alpha. She trusted me with their future. I have to lead them, Caleb. I have to be there.”

Caleb studied him for a long moment, searching his face for doubt, for hesitation.

He found none.

Then he nodded, his expression hardening with resolve.

“Then I’m coming with you. We’ll take the Praetorians. We’ll show them that there’s no place for rebellion or transgression in this kingdom. We’ll make an example of whoever dared to attack.”

Attia’s eyes widened with surprise, a flicker of gratitude crossing his features.

“You would do that? Leave the castle, your pregnant mate, everything-to fight alongside me?”

Caleb’s smile was thin and cold, the smile of a warrior who had seen too much to be intimidated.

“You’re family now. And family protects each other. That’s what we do. That’s who we are.”

Iva stepped forward, her heart pounding with fear, her hand finding Lori’s.

“Be careful,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Both of you. Please. Promise me you’ll come back.”

1-4

The Attack

Leri squeezed her hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Clam

Caleb crossed to Iva, his hands cupping her face with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence he was about to face. His lips pressed against her forehead, lingering, as if he was memorizing the feel of her skin.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I’ll be back before you know it. I swear it.”

Iva’s voice was thick with emotion, her throat tight.

“I love you too. Come back to me. Come back to our baby.”

He pressed his hand to her belly, feeling the gentle flutter of life within.

“I will. I promise.”

Attia turned to Lori, his hand finding hers, his eyes searching her face as if he was trying to memorize every detail.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice rough with regret. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to leave you like this. I wanted to give you peace, not more fear.”

Lori shook her head, her tears finally spilling over.

“Don’t apologize. Just come back. Promise me, Attia. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Attia’s eyes softened, the hard edges of his face melting away.

“I promise.”

He pulled her into a fierce embrace, his lips pressing against her hair, breathing her in as if he was storing her scent in his memory.

Then he pulled back, his expression hardening with resolve.

“Let’s go,” he said to Caleb.

Caleb nodded, his hand finding Iva’s one last time.

“Wait for me,” he said softly.

“Always,” she whispered.

They turned and strode out of the dining hall, their footsteps echoing through the corridor like a drumbeat

of war.

Iva watched them go, her heart heavy with fear, her hand pressed against her belly.

Lori stood beside her, her hand still clasped in Iva’s.

“They’ll be okay,” Iva said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lori nodded, her eyes fixed on the door.

“They have to be.”

24

H

The Attack

The hall felt empty without them.

Clam

The warmth of the morning had vanished, replaced by a cold, hollow silence that seemed to seep into the very walls. Iva stood in the center of the room, her legs heavy, her body suddenly drained of all energy. The fear, the worry, the adrenaline-it all crashed over her like a wave, leaving her weak and trembling.

After some time in Lori’s company, Iva spoke.

“I need to lie down,” she admitted, her voice weak. “I feel… strange. Dizzy.”

Lori’s expression sharpened with concern, her arm moving to support Iva’s elbow.

“Strange how? Let me check on you.”

Iva shook her head, forcing a weak smile.

“No, I just need to rest. It’s been a lot. The ball, the matches, the news of the attack-it’s all catching up to

me.”

Lori guided her toward the private chambers, her grip firm and steady.

“Of course. Let me help you.”

They made their way through the winding corridors, past guards who bowed their heads.

Iva’s room was cool and quiet, the curtains drawn against the afternoon sun.

A new handmaid was already there, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and an elegant porcelain cup. She curtsied as they entered, her movements fluid and practiced.

“Your Highness,” the maid said, her voice soft and deferential. “I brought you some tea. The Queen ordered it, considering the circumstances. Please drink it while it is hot.”

Iva smiled weakly, her eyes already half-closed with exhaustion.

“The Queen is so thoughtful,” she murmured. “Please, set it down. I’ll have some in a moment.”

The maid placed the tray on the small table beside the bed and curtsied again before stepping back.

Lori helped Iva settle onto the chaise lounge, her hands gentle and careful.

“Can I get you anything else?” Lori asked. “A blanket? Some water?”

Iva shook her head.

“No, just the tea. It smells lovely. You can go to have some rest too.”

Lori nodded reluctantly as she left the room.

Iva reached for the cup, the warmth seeping into her cold fingers. She lifted it to her lips and took a sip- lavender and chamomile, honey and something else she couldn’t quite place. Soothing. Calming.

She took another sip, her mind already beginning to drift.

3/4

The Attack

Claim

But as she sat there, a random thought crossed her mind. She had never seen this handmaid before. Her Tace was unfamiliar, her uniform slightly different from the others. Perhaps she was from the Queen’s wing.

She mind linked the Queen, her mental voice warm with gratitude.

*Thank you for the tea. It’s just what I needed. You’re so thoughtful.*

The Queen’s response came back after a moment, tinged with confusion.

*Tea? Iva, I didn’t send you any tea. I haven’t ordered anything for you today.*

Iva’s blood turned to ice.

Her hand flew to her throat.

She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t respond. They felt heavy, useless, disconnected from her body.

The room blurred around her, the edges fading to a soft, hazy black.

She gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “The tea-”

But it was already too late.

The cup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.

Iva’s consciousness slipped into darkness.

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