The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 8

Worse Than Death–3

“They are killing machines,” Rana cried. “Cruel. Savage.”

Her voice broke as she continued, “How can you even consider giving your daughter to someone like that?”

Iva pressed a shaking hand to her chest.

“There,” Rana went on, her words tumbling out in panic, “women have no voice. They are used for breeding, labor, survival. Some packs don’t even have running water or electricity, Rhys! They live like animals!”

Her mother’s voice rose to a scream. “Are you mad?!”

Iva felt bile rise in her throat.

She couldn’t breathe.

Rhys exhaled slowly. “Yet they are strong,” he said again. “And strength is what our pack needs, especially as the new Messenger is not yet known. And once it will appear… everyone will try to

secure its presence.”

“No,” Rana sobbed. “No, no, no-”

“Enough Rana! This is not up for discussion anymore. The Alpha agrees,” Rhys interrupted. “This is the only alliance that might accept her, considering her lacking.”

Accept her.

As if I am an object. A burden. Something to be handed over.

Rana’s voice shattered completely. “Then mate her with an omega!” she screamed. “Let her have a

decent life. I am begging you. Please. Don’t send our daughter there.”

Iva clutched the wall beside her as if the house itself might collapse.

Silence stretched.

Then Rhys spoke again.

“It has already been decided,” he said coldly. “The Alpha will contact them today. If they accept her, they will arrive in approximately two weeks to finalize the agreement and have her mating ceremony.”

Two weeks.

Iva’s knees nearly buckled.

No. No. No.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the air thick and suffocating. Her vision narrowed as spots danced before her eyes, terror clawing through her veins.

Avalon surged forward inside her, frantic.

“Iva!” the wolf cried. “Breathe with me. Please.”

But the words echoed uselessly as the dread wrapped around her spine like ice.

The fate they were planning for her was worse than death.

To be handed to … monsters.

To lose her voice.

Her freedom.

Her humanity.

She pressed her forehead to the floor, sobbing brokenly as her entire world crumbled around her.

“I won’t survive it,” she whispered hoarsely. “I won’t.”