The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 152

<Ready to Facettim?-?

Ready to Face Him?-2

She had never been thrown into something like this.

This level of cruelty.

This level of silent judgment.

Did he already move on?

Did he even realize she was gone?

Her steps slowed slightly as those thoughts crept in again, her chest tightening as she tried to push them

away.

Then-

Her eyes lifted.

The large calendar board in the main corridor came into view.

And she froze.

Full Moon.

Tonight.

Her breath hitched.

Memories surged instantly.

His voice.

His command.

His expectation.

“You will prove it to me.”

The test.

The promise.

Her heart began to race.

Because tonight-

She was supposed to stand in front of him.

To show him the truth.

To prove she was the Messenger.

But now-

r

<Ready to Facetim?-?

She was here.

And he was-

Somewhere else.

Far.

Distant.

Out of reach.

Iva clenched her jaw, forcing her feet to move again, her pace quickening as if she could outrun the thoughts chasing her.

“Snap out of it, Iva…” she muttered under her breath, her voice low but firm.

Because she had made a choice.

She had walked away.

And now-

She had to live with it.

Even if it felt like it was tearing her apart.

The Academy grounds had never felt so alive.

Students poured in from every direction, their voices blending into a constant hum of excitement, curiosity, and barely contained tension, as if the very air vibrated with anticipation for what was about to begin.

Today-

Everything became real.

No more quiet corridors.

No more empty rooms.

No more time to hide.

Iva stood beside Lori as they followed the crowd toward the grand auditorium, both dressed in the Academy’s uniform-dark fitted trousers, a structured jacket with silver lining, and the insignia stitched sharply over the chest.

It felt… foreign.

Heavy.

Like wearing a title she had not yet earned.

As they stepped inside, Iva’s breath caught.

4

Clains

<Ready to Facetim?-2

The auditorium was massive.

Rows upon rows of seats rising in a perfect arc, all facing the elevated stage, where banners of ancient packs and royal crests hung proudly, their presence overwhelming, almost suffocating in their grandeur.

Everything screamed power.

History.

Legacy.

“I…” Iva whispered, her voice barely audible as her eyes scanned the space. “This is…”

“Intimidating?” Lori finished for her, her tone low but laced with the same awe.

Iva nodded slowly.

“Yeah…”

They found their seats among the hundreds of students already gathered, the noise gradually settling as the atmosphere shifted from chaotic to tense, from excited to disciplined.

Then-

Silence fell.

Because someone had entered.

A man stepped onto the stage.

And instantly-

The entire room straightened.

Attia. The Headmaster.

Iva blinked in surprise.

He was not what she expected.

Not old.

Not distant.

Not detached.

He looked to be in his mid-forties, yet his presence was overwhelming, his body built like a seasoned warrior, his posture rigid, his movements precise, controlled, dangerous.

Every line of him spoke of experience.

Of battles fought.

Of victories earned.

Even from a distance-

3/4

Clan

”

<Ready to Eare Him?-?

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