The world seemed to narrow to the space between them.
Caleb did not move.
He did not breathe.
Only his eyes changed — darkening, sharpening, becoming something ancient and unreadable.
“You are… what?” he asked, each syllable precise.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Iva swallowed, her throat painfully dry.
“The Messenger,” she whispered.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Power exploded outward from him.
Not anger alone — authority. Bloodline. Command. Something far older than dominance and far heavier than rage. His aura surged like a crushing tide, slamming into her chest, forcing the air from her lungs.
Her vision blurred.
Her body folded involuntarily, collapsing onto the bench as if gravity itself had increased.
Breath would not come.
Her ribs screamed under invisible pressur
