The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 5

V Left Behind

The first wave of pain came without mercy.

It started in Iva’s spine, a sharp, searing heat that crawled upward and downward at the same time, splitting her breath in half and forcing a gasp from her throat as her knees buckled beneath her. The ground seemed to tilt, the world stretching and bending as if reality itself was giving her one last chance to step back.

She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Her bones screamed as pressure built inside them, a terrible, relentless force pushing outward, rearranging her from the inside out. It felt as though her body was being rewritten cell by cell, her humanity peeled away layer by layer, and tears streamed down her face—not from fear alone, but from the sheer intensity of it.

This hurts… so much…

Her hands hit the earth as her fingers spasmed, nails elongating, thickening, tearing through skin in flashes of white-hot agony. She cried out, the sound raw and broken, echoing across the shifting grounds as every eye turned toward her.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Her vision sharpened painfully, colors bleeding brighter, outlines becoming cruelly precise. She could hear everything—the whisper of grass bending under the wind, the shallow breaths of the gathered wolves, the distant hoot of an owl—and it overwhelmed her senses so completely that she nearly lost herself to the flood.

Her back arched violently as her spine cracked, vertebrae snapping and reshaping, forcing a scream from her throat that turned halfway into something feral, something not quite human anymore. Fur burst through her skin in waves, dark and soft, spreading across her arms, her back, her legs, until her human form felt like a memory slipping through her grasp.

Hold on, she told herself desperately. Don’t lose yourself. Don’t disappear.

The pain peaked—an unbearable crescendo—and then suddenly, terrifyingly, it shifted.

The agony dulled, replaced by a roaring warmth, a powerful strength flooding her limbs, grounding her to the earth beneath her. Her breathing slowed, her heartbeat steadying, her awareness expanding beyond what she had ever known.

And then—

She stood.

On four legs.

The ground felt solid and real beneath her paws, every blade of grass distinct, every vibration alive. Her tail swayed instinctively behind her, her body light yet strong, compact yet balanced, and for the first time in her life, she felt whole.

I… I did it, she thought, wonder blooming in her chest. This is my wolf.

A soft presence brushed against her mind, gentle yet steady, like a calm voice rising from deep water.

Hello, Iva.

Her breath hitched. You… you’re real.

A warm pulse of emotion flowed through her. I am Avalon. And I have been waiting for you.

Tears burned behind her eyes, even as her wolf’s vision took over, and she lifted her head slowly, curiosity glowing through her as she looked around at the gathered pack.

This was the moment every young wolf dreamed of.

Pride.

Acceptance.

Belonging.

The power of the pack.

But what met her gaze shattered those dreams in an instant.

They were … laughing?

Not openly—not loudly—but the smirks, the raised brows, the poorly hidden amusement cut deeper than claws ever could. Some whispered behind hands. Others shook their heads with thinly veiled disappointment.

Why…? Iva asked silently, confusion twisting painfully inside her chest. Why are they looking at me like this?

Her gaze darted from face to face, desperately searching for something—anything—that looked like approval.

And then she saw her father.

Gamma Rhys stood rigid, his face flushed a deep, angry red—not with pride, not with awe, but with something that looked like… embarrassment? His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked as though it might crack, his eyes avoiding her entirely as if she were something shameful.

Something’s wrong.

The pain of that look eclipsed even the agony of her transformation.

“Father…?” She tried to mind-link him for the first time, but his walls were up, blocking her.

Her chest constricted violently, panic blooming where joy had been moments before.

Why are they looking like this at me? she whispered inwardly, her voice trembling as tears threatened once more.

Avalon’s presence wrapped around her like a protective shield, steady and calm despite the hurt radiating from Iva’s soul.

Perhaps, Avalon said gently, because of us… or more exactly, because of me.

Us? Iva asked confused.

Our size, Avalon continued softly. We are not large. Not imposing. Not what they … expected.

Iva looked down at herself—at her lean paws, her smaller build compared to the massive wolves shifting nearby. She wasn’t feeling weak, but she wasn’t towering or even of a normal standard size. She wasn’t monstrous. She wasn’t terrifying.

She was… different.

Is that so bad? Iva asked, her heart breaking open, but deep inside already knowing the answer. She would be judged based on her physical appearance and be categorised like the runt of the pack. Her heart dropped.

Before Iva could wrap her head around her new reality—before she could lift her head and find the courage to stand proudly despite the judgment—

A sharp, commanding voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Shift back.”The Alpha spoke.

Every sound died instantly.

“Now,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Iva froze, shock rippling through her. Already? But I—I just— we supposed to run with the pack… the first hunt.

Do as he says, Avalon urged calmly. We will survive this.

The warmth retreated, her body folding inward once more as the transformation reversed, bones shrinking, fur retreating, pain flaring again though less violently than before. When it ended, Iva collapsed to her knees, gasping, shaking, human once more and painfully exposed.

Silence pressed down on her from all sides.

She hugged herself, trembling—not from the cold, but from the realization that the moment she had waited for her entire life had ended not with pride…

…but with shame.

--

The silence after the Alpha’s command was heavier than the night itself.

For a few endless seconds, no one moved, as if the entire pack was holding its breath, unsure whether to react with laughter, pity, or something worse. Iva stood there trembling, arms wrapped around herself, her bare feet pressing into the cold earth of the shifting grounds, her chest rising and falling too fast as she tried to keep herself together. Her mother covered her with a robe.

Then the murmurs began.

Not loud.

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