The Messenge (Iva and Nick) novel Chapter 398

Summary for Chapter 398: The Messenge (Iva and Nick)

The Messenger werewolf novel Iva and Nick Chapter 398, by Elle Vintea read online Free PDF

Never

+25 Point

Never

convoy moved through the darkness like a silent army, several black vehicles cutting through

the winding road with headlights slicing across the trees, while inside the second car Iva’sat

pressed against the leather seat with her son cradled tightly in her arms, refusing to loosen her hold even for a second because every instinct she possessed screamed that Youssef was the only

thing in this world she could still protect.

The little boy slept against her chest, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of her clothes, completely unaware of the tension surrounding him, and Iva lowered her eyes toward his peaceful face before slowly looking across the back seat again, where the man beside her seemed to

occupy almost all the available space.

He was enormous.

Very tall, broad through the shoulders and muscular in a way that made his expensive dark clothes appear almost insignificant against the power contained beneath them, with dark skin, thick dark hair, and eyes so intense that Iva found herself struggling to hold his gaze for more than a few

seconds before instinctively looking away.

She knew what he was.

A Lycan.

He was the one in charge.

She could feel it in the silence surrounding him, in the way the other vehicles maintained their position around theirs, in the way nobody questioned his decisions, and most frighteningly, in the way every person who had looked at him during their journey had lowered their eyes almost

immediately.

Iva shivered.

She pulled Youssef closer against her chest.

The man had been staring at her for several minutes, and there was something in his expression that confused her because beneath the frightening intensity, she could see pain.

Real pain.

He looked at her intensely, with a glint of craziness in his eyes.

“Iva.”

Her name came from his lips in a broken, almost disbelieving voice.

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She stiffened.

He slowly lifted one hand toward her.

Iva reacted before she could think.

“Don’t!”

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Her palm struck his arm sharply, and the sound of the slap seemed unnaturally loud inside the

moving vehicle.

The man froze.

Iva immediately crawled backward, scrambling toward the corner of the seat while keeping Youssef protected against her body, her knees drawn toward her chest and one arm wrapped around her son as though her own body could become a shield between him and the enormous.

man.

“Don’t touch me.”

The words came out trembling, but she forced herself to meet his eyes.

The man stared at her.

Shock spread slowly across his face.

“Iva…”

“Don’t come near me.”

“I only wanted-”

“Don’t.”

Her voice became stronger.

She had no weapon.

No escape.

No idea where the convoy was taking her.

But she had Youssef, and she would rather die than allow anyone to take him from her again.

The man swallowed painfully, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Do you remember me?”

Iva’s heart twisted.

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For some strange reason, the question frightened her more than anything else he had said.

Because she wanted to remember.

Somewhere deep inside herself, there was a desperate longing to understand the fragments that haunted her dreams, the faces that appeared and disappeared whenever she tried to reach into her forgotten past, the strange sensation that there had once been another life waiting for her beyond the darkness.

But nothing came.

Only fear.

Only confusion.

Only him.

“Yeah.”

The word came out bitterly.

His expression changed immediately.

“You do?”

Iva tightened her arms around Youssef.

“You’re my previous captor.”

The man’s entire body went still.

Iva continued, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

“You just came to retrieve your slave back.”

For several seconds, there was complete silence.

The convoy continued racing through the darkness, the engine humming beneath them while the world outside remained nothing more than blurred shadows beyond the tinted windows.

Then Iva watched something happen inside the man’s eyes.

It was as though a door had suddenly been thrown open.

Realization.

Horror.

Pain.

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His face became almost unbearably pale despite his dark complexion, and his breathing changed

as the meaning of her words finally reached somewhere deeper than his mind.

Nick.

The name struck him like a physical blow.

The things Nick had told him before his death suddenly returned with brutal clarity.

I succeeded.

She hates you.

Even if you find her, it won’t matter.

I made sure you’re the person she hates most in this world.

Caleb had refused to believe it.

He had convinced himself that Nick had been lying simply to hurt him, that the man had been desperate to protect himself, that he had invented whatever story he could to make Caleb suffer.

But now Iva was sitting opposite him with terror in her eyes, protecting their son from him as though he were the greatest threat she had ever encountered.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

The way she had recoiled.

The way she had slapped his hand.

The way she had crawled into the corner.

The way she looked at him as though he were a monster.

The fact that she never tried to return to the castle, to him…

Nick had not been lying.

He had succeeded.

Somehow, whatever he had done before Caleb found him, he had turned Iva against the man who

loved her more desperately than he had ever admitted to himself.

Caleb’s jaw clenched.

His hands curled into fists.

Iva watched him nervously.

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“Please don’t.”

He didn’t seem to hear her.

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The memories came rushing through his mind, one after another, and each one seemed to cut deeper than the last.

His desperate search.

The days spent interrogating the people who had known her.

Nick’s final cruel laughter.

And now this.

Caleb turned his head toward the window, struggling to control the rage rising inside him.

Then his fist slammed into the side of the vehicle.

The entire car jolted.

Iva screamed.

Youssef stirred in her arms.

Caleb immediately looked at her.

But his expression only frightened her more.

There was something wild in his eyes, something powerful and barely restrained, and Iva

instinctively curled herself around Youssef, turning her body so that the child was completely

hidden against her chest.

“Please,” she whispered as her eyes filled with tears.

Caleb stared at her.

He had never felt pain like this.

Not when enemies had attacked him.

1 Not when he had been betrayed.

Not when he had lost control.

This was different.

Because the woman sitting before him was the woman he had spent so long trying to find, the

woman whose absence had hollowed something inside him, the woman whose face had haunted

his every waking moment.

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And she was terrified of him.

“Iya,” he said quietly. “I would never hurt you.”

“You already did.”

The words destroyed him.

Caleb closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them again, he looked at Youssef.

His son.

Their son.

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He could see himself in the little boy’s features now that he knew what he was looking at, the shape of the face, the dark lashes, the stubborn little curve of the mouth, and something inside his chest cracked open at the sight.

“I came to bring you home.”

Iva stared at him, shivering.

“This isn’t my home.”

“It was.”

“Please, just let us go.” She spoke.

But Caleb looked at her as he replied in a cold and decisive voice, “Never.”

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