The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 278

Heat and Choices

The heat consumed her

Lori lay on her bed, her body trembling, her skin burning with a fire that no amount of cold water could extinguish. She had stripped down to a thin tank top and shorts, but the fabric felt like sandpaper against her overheated flesh.

Her wolf was howling.

“Call him,” Layla screamed, pacing frantically in Lori’s mind. “Call our mate. We need him. We need-”

“No,” Lori gasped, clutching the sheets. “No, I can’t. We’re not… he hasn’t…”

“He is our mate! The goddess chose him!”

“The goddess chose him for me, but he hasn’t chosen me back!” Lori’s voice cracked. “He stood up to his family, but we’re not official. We’re just… getting to know each other.”

Layla’s response was a flash of images-Attia’s hands on her face, his lips on hers, the way he had looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“He wants us,” Layla insisted. “I can feel it through the bond. He is holding back because he is trying to be honorable. But he wants us. I could feel his wolf.”

Lori whimpered as another wave of heat crashed over her.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “What if he doesn’t want this? What if he thinks I’m trying to trap him? What if he-”

“You are being a fool!”

Lori rolled onto her side, curling into a ball. Her hand’s pressed against her stomach, trying to ease the ache that had settled deep in her core.

The rational part of her-the part that had survived rejection, abandonment, a lifetime of being overlooked -fought back with everything it had.

“Think, Lori. Think.”

He was a strong Alpha. A man with a stellar reputation, a pedigree that stretched back generations, a family that would never accept her. His parents had made that abundantly clear.

And she was… her.

A Delta. A scholarship student. A nobody in their world.

What if she called him and he came out of obligation? What if he held her and marked her and then regretted it the moment the heat faded?

What if he saw her desperation and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble?

Another wave of pain hit her-sharp and relentless, tearing through her body like wildfire.

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Heat and Chertes!

Lori cried out.

Her hand reached for her phone.

*No, she told herself *No. Don’t, You’re stronger than this.*

But Layla was relentless.

“We need him. Our body needs him. Our soal needs him. Stop fighting what is meant to be.”

Lori’s fingers trembled over the screen.

Attia’s name glowed at her.

She stared at it.

One touch. One click. And he would know. He would come.

But what would happen after?

She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

Claim

*Please,* she begged whatever higher power might be listening. *Please give me the strength to make the right choice.*

The heat raged on.

And Lori fought.

She fought for herself. For her dignity. For the fragile hope that when she finally gave herself to Attia-if she ever gave herself to Attia-it would be because he wanted her, not because biology had forced his hand.

But the battle was far from over.

And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to win.

Lori’s hand hovered over the screen.

Her fingers trembled. Her vision blurred. Another wave of heat crashed through her, stealing her breath and making her cry out.

She couldn’t call Attia.

She couldn’t.

But she needed someone. Anyone.

Her thumb moved before her mind could catch up.

The call connected after a few rings.

“What happened?” The voice at the end of the line was thick with sleep. “Is everything okay, Lori?”

25

Heat and Cherbes i

IVA.” Her voice came out as a broken whimper. need your help.”

Then the pain hit again, and she collapsed onto the floor, her phone slipping from her fingers.

She didn’t know how long she lay there. Minutes. Hours. Time had lost all meaning.

Then the knock came.

Claim

Lori dragged herself across the floor, her body screaming in protest. She reached the door, fumbled with the lock, and pulled it open.

Iva stood in the hallway, still in her pajamas, her hair wild, her eyes wide with alarm.

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