The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 252

Tears-2

The composure she had been clinging to shattered like glass. Her arms fell to her sides. Her hands curled into fists. Her eyes-those beautiful green eyes-filled with fresh tears that spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

“You already had someone in your life,” she said, her voice rising, trembling, breaking. “Why didn’t you reject me from the very beginning? Why did you keep me hanging? Why did you let me know you? Why did you let me *feel* things I’ve never felt before?”

Attia opened his mouth.

She didn’t let him speak.

“It was all a farce, wasn’t it?” Her voice grew louder, wilder, unhinged with pain. “The conversations. The questions. The way you looked at me like I mattered. It was all just… just *practice* for the real thing. For * her.**

“That’s not-”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand, stopping him. “Don’t lie to me. Not anymore.”

Her chest heaved. Her tears fell faster.

“But don’t worry,” she said, and her voice dropped to something cold and terrible. “You don’t need to tolerate me for any longer. I, Lorelei Thompson-”

Attia’s blood turned to ice.

He knew what she was about to say. Could see it in the set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes, the way she was preparing to tear apart everything they had built with a single word.

*Reject.*

She was going to reject him.

He moved before he could think.

す

One moment he was across the room. The next, he was in front of her, his hand clamped over her mouth, his body crowding hers against the wall.

“Don’t,” he said, and his voice was not calm. Not measured. It was raw, panicked, desperate. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Lori’s eyes were wide over his hand. Her tears soaked into his fingers.

“I know I screwed up,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I should have told you about Monica. I should have been honest from the beginning. I should have-”

He stopped.

Took a breath.

His hand was still over her mouth. He could feel her breath, warm and fast, against his palm.

14

< Tears-2

Claim

“But you are *mine. The words came from somewhere deep-somewhere primal, somewhere beyond reason. “Do you hear me? You are *mine. My mate. My fated mate. The one the goddess chose for me.”

Lori’s body trembled against his.

“And I am not letting you go,” he said. “Not like this. Not ever.”

He removed his hand from her mouth.

Before she could speak-before she could reject him, before she could push him away, before she could say anything that would destroy them both-he grabbed her.

His hands fisted in her hair. Her head tilted back. Her lips parted in surprise.

And he kissed her.

It was not gentle.

It was not soft.

It was searing-desperate and hungry and filled with every word he couldn’t say. He poured his frustration into the kiss. His pain. His fear. The days of wanting her and the terror of almost losing her.

Lori stiffened.

For one terrible moment, she did not kiss him back.

Then her hands came up-not to push him away, but to grip his shirt, to pull him closer, to hold on like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

She kissed him back.

Her lips parted beneath his. Her tongue met his. Her body melted against him, soft and warm and finally, finally giving in.

Attia groaned against her mouth.

He pulled her tighter, one hand still in her hair, the other pressing against the small of her back, arching her into him. She fit perfectly. Like she had been made for him. Like every moment of his life had been leading to this.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard.

Lori’s lips were swollen. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes-still red from crying-held something new.

Hope.

“I’m still angry at you,” she whispered.

Attia’s forehead pressed against hers.

“I know.”

“You should have told me.”

2.4

Tears 2

“know.”

You hurt me.”

Attia closed his eyes.

“I know,” he said again. “And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If you let me.”

Lori was silent for a long moment.

Then her fingers tightened in his shirt.

“Don’t ever lie to me again,” she said.

“I won’t.”

“Don’t ever hide anything from me again.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t you ever-” Her voice cracked. “Don’t you ever let me go.”

Attia pulled back just enough to look at her.

Her eyes were fierce. Vulnerable. Full of everything he had been searching for his entire life.

“Never,” he said.

He kissed her again.

Claim

Slower this time. Deeper. A promise sealed with lips and breath and the bond that hummed between them like a living thing.

When they finally pulled apart, Attia led her to the bed. They sat side by side, her hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on her palm.

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