The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 362

Taken I

The Queen walked with rushed steps, her silk gown rustling softly against the marble floor.

She had checked the gardens first, expecting to find Iva resting on her favorite bench, enjoying the warm afternoon air. Nothing. She had checked the library, the study, the private sitting rooms where Iva often retreated to read or write letters. Nothing.

A flicker of unease had begun to form in the Queen’s chest, a cold knot of worry that she couldn’t quite explain. Iva was pregnant, yes, and she tired easily-but she was also responsible, always letting someone know where she was going. The fact that no one had seen her and the mind link that got cut between them. Plus, the mention of sending someone with tea… she never did…

The Queen made her way toward Iva’s private chambers, her steps quickening with each passing moment. The corridor was quiet, too quiet, the guards at their posts standing stiffly as she passed.

She reached the door and knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

The Queen’s heart began to pound. She reached out through the mindlink, her mental voice urgent.

*Iva? Iva, are you there? I need to speak with you about the ball.*

Silence.

The Queen tried again, her voice growing more desperate.

*Iva? Please answer me. Something is wrong. I never sent you any tea. That handmaid wasn’t from

my wing. Iva-*

But the mind link was silent, like a brick wall in place between them.

The Queen’s blood ran cold. She had felt mindlinks drop before-when a wolf was unconscious, when they were too far away, when they were dead. But this was different. This was abrupt, violent, as if the connection had been forcibly severed by an outside force.

The Queen’s hand flew to her chest, her heart pounding with fear.

“Iva!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the corridor. “IVA!”

She threw herself against the door, her hands fumbling with the handle. It wasn’t locked. She

pushed it open, her legs trembling, and stepped inside.

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The room was empty.

The curtains were drawn, casting the chamber in dim, shadowy light. The chaise lounge where Iva often rested was undisturbed, its cushions still plump, unmarked by the weight of a body. The bed was made, the sheets smooth and untouched. A half-finished glass of water sat on the nightstand, its surface still, undisturbed.

But there was no sign of Iva.

The Queen stood frozen in the doorway, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes were seeing She scanned the room again, searching for any clue, any sign of where her daughter-in-law might have gone.

The window was slightly ajar.

The Queen crossed the room in three quick strides, her heart pounding. She pushed the window

open further and leaned out, her eyes scanning the wall below. The stone was old, worn, with small

crevices and ledges that could serve as footholds for someone skilled enough to climb.

Her blood ran cold.

She turned back to the room, her gaze sweeping across the floor. And then she saw it-a single

object, half-hidden beneath the edge of the rug.

A delicate golden hairpin, its design unmistakably Iva’s. The Queen’s breath caught in her throat.

She crossed the room and bent down to pick it up, her fingers closing around the cool metal.

Iva never went anywhere without that hairpin. It was a gift from Caleb, a token of his love that she

wore every single day. The fact that it lay discarded on the floor, abandoned, made the Queen’s

blood run cold.

But it wasn’t just the hairpin.

There were other signs-scuff marks on the floor near the window, a faint indentation in the carpet where something heavy had been dragged, a single thread of dark fabric caught on the edge of the

windowsill.

Someone had been here.

Someone had taken her.

The Queen’s voice rose, sharp with sudden urgency.

“GUARDS!”

The door burst open, and two guards rushed in, their faces pale with alarm.

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“Your Majesty?”

“The Crown Princess,” the Queen said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain calm.

“She’s gone. Someone has taken her. Search every room, every corridor, every corner of this castle.

I want her found. Now.”

The castle erupted into chaos.

Within minutes, the Royal Guard had flooded every corridor, every chamber, every hidden passage.

The King arrived, his aura blazing with cold fury, his eyes sweeping the room with a predator’s intensity. Behind him, Lori followed, her face pale with shock, her hand pressed against her mouth.

“What happened?” the King demanded, his voice a low growl. “Where is Iva?”

The Queen’s voice was trembling, but she forced the words out.

“I came to find her. She wasn’t here. The room was empty. The window was open. And I found

this.” She held up the silver hairpin. “She never goes anywhere without it.”

The King’s eyes narrowed. He crossed to the window, his gaze sweeping across the grounds below. The gardens were peaceful, the guards at their posts, the gates secure. But something felt wrong-a tension in the air, a sense of violation that made his wolf stir uneasily.

“Search the grounds,” he commanded. “Every inch. I want to know how she left this room without

anyone seeing her.”

Lori stepped forward, her voice shaking.

“There was a handmaid,” she said. “Earlier. She brought tea. She said the Queen had ordered it. I

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