The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 208

Lori’s Mate 11-2

“He’s in his late thirties! Lorl is eighteen!”

Avalon was silent for a moment.

“And yet the thread connects them. The Moon Goddess does not make mistakes.”

Iva wanted to argue. Wanted to scream. Wanted to grab the glowing red thread with both hands and rip it apart.

But she couldn’t.

Because Avalon was right.

The thread did not lie.

And Lori-sweet, kind, wonderful Lori-was fated to the most intimidating man on the entire campus.

Headmaster Attia’s lips moved, still delivering his speech, but Iva heard none of it. The words washed over her like water over stone, meaningless and distant.

All she ould see were his eyes.

All she could feel was the weight of his gaze.

She realized, with a start, that he knew.

Not about the thread-he couldn’t see that. But he knew that something was happening. That something had shifted. That the small gray-clad student in the crowd was looking at him with an expression that bordered on horror.

His eyes narrowed. Just a fraction.

Iva looked away.

She couldn’t help it. The intensity was too much. The cold dominance in his gaze made her wolf whimper and submit, and she hated herself for it.

୮

She stared at the ground. At the grass beneath her feet. At the cracks in the stone path that bordered the field.

“Pull yourself together,” she commanded herself. *You’re the Messenger. You’re the mate of the fure Lycan King. You don’t cower.”

But her hands were shaking.

Beside her, Lori shifted, bumping her shoulder. It seems that her best friend spotted her as well and came to her.

“Good morning. Yo u okay?” Lori whispered. “You look pale.”

Iva forced a smile. It felt like a mask stretched over a scream.

1/4

Lon’s Mate

“Fine,” she whispered back. “Just a bit tired.”

Claim

Lori didn’t look convinced, but Attia’s speech was ending, and the crowd was beginning to stir. Students shifted on their feet, ready to disperse.

“One more thing,” Attia said.

The crowd stilled.

His dark eyes swept across the field-across the sea of gray uniforms, across the nervous faces, across the girl with the ash-brown hair who had looked at him like she had seen a ghost.

“Your professors will provide additional training sessions in the coming weeks,” he continued. “Attendance is mandatory. Failure to attend will result in automatic disqualification from the exam-and automatic expulsion from this academy.”

He paused.

“Use this time wisely.”

The assembly ended.

Students began to move, flowing toward the canteen, the dormitories, the library. Voices rose in a cacophony of nervous chatter. The tension that had held the field in its grip began to dissolve.

But Iva didn’t move.

She stood frozen in place, watching as Headmaster Attia stepped down from the podium and walked toward the administrative building. His massive framé moved with a predator’s grace, each step deliberate, controlled.

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