The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 299

The New Normal-2

It was exhausting. Rewarding. Terrifying.

But she refused to give up.

She thought about Lori-about the way she had stood by Attia, the way she had fought for their love, the way she had walked away from everything she had ever known. If Lori could do that, Iva could do this.

She could help others find the same happiness.

One night, Caleb found her in the library, surrounded by stacks of files and papers.

“You should sleep,” he said, his voice gentle.

Iva looked up, her eyes tired but determined.

“I can’t,” she said. “There’s too much to do.”

Caleb crossed the room and knelt beside her chair.

“Lori would not want you to destroy yourself over this,” he said softly. “She would want you to take care of yourself.”

Iva’s eyes filled with tears.

“I miss her,” she admitted. “So much.”

Caleb pulled her into his arms.

“I know,” he said. “But she’s out there, living her life. And we’ll see her again. When the time is right.”

Iva nodded, pressing her face into his shoulder.

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Promise.”

す

The end of the first semester arrived like a quiet exhale.

Iva sat in her private study within the royal wing of the academy, surrounded by stacks of files, reports, and handwritten notes. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm shadows across the walls. Outside, snow had begun to fall, blanketing the grounds in a soft, silent white.

She had done it.

Thirty fated couples identified. Thirty red threads followed to their source. Thirty pairs of wolves who now knew they were meant for each other.

The numbers were staggering, even to her. Thirty couples in a single semester. Thirty bonds that would strengthen packs, create new alliances, and bring joy to wolves who had long given up hope.

1/4

The New Normal ?

Claim

The packs were in upheaval. Some were excited-celebrating the new connections, the renewed hope for Their future. Others were terrified-fearful of the change, of the loss of control, of the new way of doing things that threatened their old power structures.

But regardless of their reactions, one thing was clear: things had shifted. Irrevocably. Permanently.

Iva leaned back in her chair, rubbing her tired eyes.

She was proud of what she had accomplished. Proud of the lives she had touched, the bonds she had helped forge, the future she was helping to shape,

But she was also exhausted.

And lonely.

Despite her success, she felt a wall growing between herself and the other students. They looked at her with awe and envy-the Crown Princess, the mate of the future king. They whispered behind her back, speculated about her life, treated her like she was something other than human.

Making friends was nearly impossible.

The constant presence of her bodyguards didn’t help. They were everywhere-in the corridors, outside her classrooms, stationed at every entrance to her chambers. She understood the necessity, but it made her feel like a prisoner in her own life.

She had told Caleb he was exaggerating. That she was safe. That the threat from her former pack had faded.

But Caleb had stood firm.

“As long as your former pack members are free,” he had said, his voice hard and unyielding, “it is only a matter of time before they make a move. I will not risk your safety. Not for anything.”

Iva had argued, had pleaded, had tried everything she could think of to change his mind.

He had not budged.

And now, it seemed, he might have been right.

す

The first yellow rose appeared on a Monday.

Iva found it on her desk, nestled in a simple glass vase. No note. No signature. Just a single, perfect yellow rose, its petals soft and fragrant.

She had smiled, assuming it was from Caleb. A romantic gesture, a reminder of his love.

But when she thanked him that evening, he looked confused.

“Yellow roses?” he asked. “I didn’t send you yellow roses.”

Iva’s smile faltered.

“Then who did?”

2/4

< The New Normal ?

Caleb’s expression shifted. His eyes grew sharp, watchful.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “But I intend to find out.”

The second rose appeared on Tuesday.

Then the third on Wednesday.

Then the fourth, the fifth, the sixth.

Each morning, Iva would wake to find a fresh yellow rose on her desk. No note. No explanation. Just the flower, silent and watchful.

She tried to ignore it. Tried to tell herself it was just a harmless admirer, someone who was too shy to reveal themselves.

But the roses kept coming.

And with each one, a flicker of unease grew in her chest.

On the seventh day, Iva decided to investigate.

She arrived at her study early, hiding in the shadows of the hallway. She watched through the crack in the door as the minutes ticked by, her heart pounding in her chest.

At exactly 8:00 AM, a figure appeared.

It was a student-young, nondescript, dressed in the standard academy uniform. He slipped into the room, placed a yellow rose in the vase on her desk, and slipped out again.

Iva followed him.

She cornered him in the corridor, her voice sharp and demanding.

“Who sent the roses?”

The student’s face went pale.

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “I’m just paid to deliver them. I never see the sender.”

Iva’s hands curled into fists.

“Who pays you?”

The student shook his head, backing away.

“I can’t say. I don’t know. It’s anonymous-always anonymous.”

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