The Messenge (Iva and Nick) novel Chapter 387

The Little Bird

The Little Bird

a’s breath caught in her throat.

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She pressed herself against the wall, her body rigid, her mind racing. She had to move. She had to run. But her legs refused to obey, frozen in place by a terror so primal it stole her ability to think

Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, growing closer.

She could hear the creak of the office door opening, the soft rustle of movement. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying, hoping, begging that they would simply assume it was a stray cat, a gust of wind, anything but a witness.

“Show yourself,” the voice demanded, harder now, edged with threat.

Iva’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling the whimper that threatened to escape. She could feel her heart in her throat, could taste the metallic tang of fear on her tongue.

A figure stepped into the corridor.

He was massive-broad-shouldered and imposing, his face hidden in shadow. But his eyes glinted in the moonlight, cold and sharp, scanning the darkness with predatory precision.

She had to move.

Now.

She forced her legs to obey, pushing off from the wall and slipping around the corner just as his gaze swept past her hiding spot. She pressed her back against the cold stone, her chest heaving. her breath coming in ragged, silent gasps.

She could hear him moving closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

“I know you’re there,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You can’t hide from me.”

Iva’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape. The corridor stretched before her, a long, narrow passage with no doors, no windows, no way out.

She was trapped.

She could feel the heat of his presence as he rounded the corner, his massive form blocking the

moonlight.

He looked down at her, his lips curving into a cold, predatory smile.

“Well, well,” he said softly. “What do we have here?”

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Iva’s heart was lodged somewhere in her throat, a pulsing, terrified presence that made it almost impossible to breathe.

The massive man loomed over her, his shadow swallowing her completely, his cold eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. She pressed herself against the cold stone wall, her fingers digging into the rough surface, wishing she could melt into the shadows and disappear.

Before she could form a coherent thought, a figure appeared behind the hunter-a familiar figure in

the dark habit of the nuns.

Sister Ophelia’s face was illuminated by the faint moonlight, her expression shifting/from curiosity to stern disapproval.

“Iva,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

Iva’s mind raced, scrambling for an explanation that would satisfy the nun and the hunters. She forced herself to take a breath, to steady her trembling voice.

“I-I came for some water,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “My jug was empty. I heard voices and thought-I thought we were being robbed.”

She gestured vaguely toward the direction of the kitchen, hoping the nervousness in her voice would be attributed to the fright of a potential burglary.

The hunters exchanged glances, their faces unreadable.

The massive man who had cornered her tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over her with an unsettling assessment. He seemed to be weighing her words, measuring her truthfulness, and the weight of his scrutiny made Iva’s stomach churn.

“I’ve never seen her before,” he said, his voice flat and cold.

Sister Ophelia stepped forward, her expression softening slightly as she addressed him.

“She is one of the girls we saved,” she explained, her tone matter-of-fact. “She was alone, pregnant, with nowhere else to go. She and her son have been staying with us for several months now.”

At the mention of Youssef, Iva’s chest tightened so painfully she thought it might give in completely. The need to protect her son, to keep his existence hidden from these hunters, surged through her like wildfire. She forced her face to remain neutral, her hands to stay still at her sides.

The hunter’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“A son,” he repeated, his gaze lingering on her face. “You have a child.”

Iva nodded, not trusting her voice.

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The man hummed thoughtfully, and then, to her surprise, he extended his hand toward her. His

palm was broad and calloused, his fingers long and strong.

“Relax, little bird,” he said, a hint of amusement coloring his voice. “We mean you no harm.”

Iva hesitated, every instinct screaming at her to refuse his touch. But she knew that refusal would raise suspicion, would mark her as someone who had something to hide. She placed her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet.

His grip was firm, and he held her hand longer than was necessary, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a gesture that felt almost possessive. Iva’s skin crawled, and she pulled/her hand back quickly, taking a step away from him.

The hunter’s smile widened, clearly amused by her discomfort.

“See you around, little bird,” he murmured, before turning away as his phone began to ring.

Iva didn’t wait for further dismissal.

She bent down, snatched her water jug from the floor-though the water had long since spilled- and rushed away from the hunters, away from Sister Ophelia’s piercing gaze, away from the suffocating presence of those who would destroy her kind.

She didn’t stop until she reached her room.

Her hands were shaking so violently she could barely get the handle. She fumbled with it, her breath coming in ragged gasps, until finally, she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

She locked the door behind her.

Then she crossed to the small crib where Youssef was stirring, awakened by the commotion. He let out a small, fussy cry, his tiny face scrunching up.

Iva scooped him into her arms, pressing him against her chest, holding him so tightly that he let out another, louder cry of protest.

But she couldn’t loosen her grip.

She couldn’t stop trembling.

Hunters.

They were so close. They were in the abbey, walking through the same corridors she walked, breathing the same air she breathed. They were looking for creatures like her. Like her son.

“Shh,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “Shh, my love. Mama’s here. Mama’s here.” She sank onto the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth, holding Youssef as if he were the only

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thing keeping her tethered to reality.

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“Moon Goddess,” she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut. “Please protect us. Please keep us safe.

Please don’t let them find us.”

Youssef’s cries gradually subsided, his small body relaxing against hers. He had no idea of the danger that surrounded them. He had no idea that his mother was terrified for their very survival. –

Iva pressed a kiss to his forehead, her tears falling onto his soft skin.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” she whispered. “I promise. I will find a way out. We will escape. We will

be free.”

The night stretched on, dark and uncertain.

And Iva held her son, and she prayed.

Elle Vintea

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