The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 73

< Fear 1

+25 Points

Fear-T

The end of her shift arrived like the last breath before collapse.

Her muscles trembled from exhaustion, her fingers wrinkled and sore from endless hot water, and yet the moment she stepped outside the restaurant, a strange alertness took over her body. The night air felt sharper, colder, filled with movement she could not see but somehow sensed.

A black SUV waited at the curb.

Not Caleb’s.

Larger. Darker. Heavier.

The driver stepped out the moment he saw her.

He was enormous.

Broad shoulders stretching the seams of his jacket, neck thick with muscle, presence unmistakably predatory even in stillness. His scent carried the unmistakable signature of a werewolf – powerful, disciplined, loyal.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than polite curiosity allowed.

“You are Iva,” he said in a deep, controlled voice.

Not a question.

“Yes.”

He opened the rear door for her with formal precisión,

“James.”

She nodded and slid into the back seat, clutching her bag tightly against her chest.

The car moved in silence, the city lights sliding across the windows like streaks of liquid gold. Iva watched them pass while gathering courage that felt thinner with each passing second.

“Could we… make a small stop?” she asked quietly.

James’s eyes met hers through the mirror. Observant. Measuring.

“Where?”

“My hostel,” she replied, voice barely steady. “I need my clothes. I cannot… wear the same things again.

He studied her for another moment before nodding once.

She gave him the address and the car turned.

The closer they got, the tighter something coiled in her chest.

A sense of wrongness, as flashes of yesterday night came to her mind.

1/3

< Fear 1

When the building came into view, her heartbeat stuttered.

The front door hung slightly ajar, as usual.

One of the hallway lights thickered.

Her stomach dropped.

+25 Points

She was already out of the car before James could react, as she wanted to be as fast as possible. The last thing that she needed was to encounter the same guys again.

But today, the corridor smelled… different.

And her heart was about to stop when she noticed in horror that her door was open.

Not unlocked.

Open.

Iva stepped inside, tensed and alert.

And the world tilted.

Drawers had been pulled out and overturned. The thin mattress slashed open, stuffing spilling out like exposed bone. The small table she had used to eat her meager meals lay on its side, one leg broken. The few items she owned – clothes, toiletries, small personal objects – were scattered, trampled, ruined.

Her breath left her lungs in a silent gasp.

“No…”

She moved slowly into the room, as if stepping into a memory of something already lost.

Her backpack was gone.

Her spare shoes gone.

Even the cheap bath towel she had bought with her first paycheck had been dragged across the floor and

torn.

A cold tremor climbed her spine.

Someone had not searched.

They had destroyed.

Her hands began to shake.

Her heart pounded not with fear alone, but with the terrible, hollow realization of what this meant.

She had nothing left here.

Nothing to gather.

Nothing to salvage.

23

+25 Points

The last fragile pieces of the life she had tried to rebuild with trembling determination… erased in one violent sweep.

She forced herself back into the hallway, each step heavy, unreal.

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