The Messenger

Lies

Iva walked home as if she were floating outside her own body.

The forest path felt unreal beneath her feet, the trees blurring at the edges of her vision, the sounds of birds and wind fading in and out like echoes from another world. Everything inside her was still spinning—Nick, the red thread, Avalon’s words, the impossible truth that had settled into her bones like a living thing.

Messenger.

The word repeated in her mind with every step.

Her heart, which had been pounding wildly only minutes earlier, now beat with a strange, steady excitement. Fear was still there, yes—but beneath it, something new had taken root.

Hope. Fragile, glowing, dangerous hope.

As she walked, her thoughts began to race ahead of her, forming scenes, rehearsing conversations.

She imagined sitting at the kitchen table, hands folded, calm and composed, while her parents stared at her in disbelief. She imagined her father’s sharp words stopping mid-sentence, his anger dissolving into shock, then awe. She imagined the Alpha being called, his posture stiffening when he realized what she was.

The next Messenger.

With this… everything would change.

They wouldn’t dare send her to the wild packs now. No Alpha would risk offending the Moon Goddess herself. No barbaric agreement, no northern exile, no life stripped of choice and voice.

Finally, she would belong.

Finally, the pack would have to see her… to accept her.

She pictured the whispers changing, the laughter dying on cruel lips, the looks of pity turning into respect—or at least fear. She imagined her father standing taller among the other Gammas, no longer ashamed, no longer forced to lower his gaze.

Your daughter is chosen, they would say.

Your bloodline is blessed.

For the first time since her shift, a small, hesitant smile touched her lips.

For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—everything she had endured had led to this moment.

That the pain had a purpose.

When she reached the house, the sun was already sinking, painting the sky in deep orange and bruised purple. The familiar sight of the front door grounded her, and she took a deep breath before stepping inside.

The moment the door closed behind her, hurried footsteps rushed toward her.

“Iva!”

Her mother appeared in the hallway, eyes red, face pale, hands trembling as she grabbed Iva’s arms.

“Oh, Moon Goddess, where have you been?” Rana cried. “You worried us sick! You didn’t arrive with the school shuttle—do you have any idea—”

“I walked,” Iva said quietly. “I needed air.”

She was about to say more, about the forest, about what she had discovered, about how everything was about to change—

“I would not tolerate disrespect or rebellion in this house… or any more shame.”

Her father’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

Iva stiffened.

Rhys stood near his office door, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. His eyes were hard, burning with something she had never seen so openly before.

“Nor lies,” he added coldly. “Do you understand me, young lady?”

Iva frowned, confusion creeping in. “Dad, what are you talking about?”

“You skip training,” he continued, his voice rising. “You disappear after school. And now you stand here insulting our intelligence?”

“I didn’t disappear,” Iva said, her heart starting to pound again. “I told you, I walked—”

“Enough!” he roared.

The word echoed through the hallway.

“I did not raise, in this house, for eighteen years, a slut!”

The word hit her like ice water.

Iva went pale. “What…?” Her voice trembled. “Dad, what are you saying?”

She barely had time to register the movement.

The slap came fast and hard.

Pain exploded across her face as she was thrown sideways, her shoulder hitting the wall with a dull thud. Her ears rang, a sharp, piercing sound drowning out everything else. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

She slid slightly against the wall, one hand pressed to her burning cheek, eyes wide with shock.

Despite everything, he had never hit her.

Not once.

Not ever… till today.

She stared at him as if he were a stranger.

“Dad…” she whispered. “Why…?”

Rhys was shaking with fury, his face red, veins standing out on his neck.

“Nick told us everything,” he shouted. “Everything. How he saw you in the forest. On your knees. Pleasuring a boy like some common harlot—”

“That’s not what happened!” Iva cried in shock, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes. “I swear, it’s not—”

“Silence!” he barked. “I’ve had enough of you.”

Her mother gasped, rushing forward. “Rhys, stop! This isn’t—”

“Rana, not one word!” he snapped, spinning on her. “You spoiled her too much, and look where it led us. This is your fault.”

Rana froze, tears streaming down her face.

Iva pushed herself upright, her whole body trembling. “Dad, please. You don’t understand. There’s something I need to tell you—”

“There is nothing you need to tell me, I don’t want to hear any more words from you,” he said coldly. “Effective immediately, you are grounded.”

Her heart sank.

“You will attend the remaining three days of school,” he continued, “because I will not add high school failure to your already disgraced name.”

Disgraced.

“But other than that,” he went on, voice cruelly calm now, “you will be confined to your room for the next two weeks. No leaving the house. One meal per day.”

Rana cried out. “Rhys, that’s cruel—she’s just a child—”

“Stop it Rana! Just stop! In our society,” he interrupted sharply, “a she-wolf must be pure for mating. And yet our daughter seems determined to ruin herself further than she already has. For no one to accept her!”

Iva felt something crack inside her chest.

“She wants us to be unable to look anyone in the eyes,” he continued bitterly. “To be mocked. Pitied. Shamed.”

He dragged a hand down his face, his voice breaking—not with sorrow, but with wounded pride.

“What did I do,” he demanded, “to deserve this?”

Iva stood there, cheek burning, heart shattered, the truth clawing at her throat.

I am the Messenger, she wanted to scream.

I am chosen.

You’re wrong.

But the words stayed trapped inside her.

And for the first time since the forest, since the red thread, since hope had bloomed—

She felt it tremble.

And begin to die.

--

The moment the door of her room closed behind her, the strength drained from Iva’s body.

Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the bed as if the mattress were the only thing keeping her from shattering completely. The room was silent, cruelly so, and the quiet pressed against her chest until it became unbearable.

Hot tears burst from her eyes.

They came fast and violent, soaking the pillow beneath her as her shoulders shook. She curled in on herself, clutching the fabric of her shirt like it was the only thing anchoring her to this world.

What did she do to deserve this?

The question echoed again and again in her mind, unanswered, merciless.

She had trained harder than anyone. She had obeyed every rule. She had swallowed every insult, every cold look, every disappointment, all in the hope that one day it would be enough.

Why is Nick so cruel? Why is he doing this?

The image of him flashed in her mind—his smirk, his mocking eyes, the way he had looked at her in the forest, not with shame or guilt, but with satisfaction.

He and Ella were the ones breaking the rules.

They were the ones hidden in the forest, touching, crossing lines that were forbidden before bonding.

Yet somehow, she was the one punished.

Somehow, he had twisted the truth so easily, turned her into the sinner, the disgrace, the stain on the family’s name.

“Why?” she sobbed into the pillow. “Why, Moon Goddess?”

Her voice cracked, raw with grief and anger.

“Why would you pair me with someone like him?”

Nick had nothing to gain from lying.

Nothing—except her pain.

Except watching her fall.

The thought burned, sinking deep into her chest like poison.

She barely noticed when a soft warmth spread through her, a gentle presence wrapping around her broken heart.

“I’m here,” Avalon whispered.

Her voice was quiet, trembling, filled with a sadness that mirrored Iva’s own.

“You are not alone.”

Iva’s sobs slowed, turning into shaky breaths as she pressed her face into the pillow, letting Avalon’s presence settle around her like a fragile shield.

“I don’t understand,” Iva whispered hoarsely. “I did everything right. I tried so hard. But my parents didn’t even tried to listen to me.”

“I know,” Avalon replied softly. “And none of this is your fault.”

For a long time, they stayed like that—girl and wolf—sharing the grief, the shame, the aching sense of rejection that came not from strangers, but from the ones who were supposed to protect her.

Eventually, the storm inside her began to ease.

The tears dried, leaving her eyes swollen and aching. Her breathing steadied, though her chest still felt tight, like it was wrapped in invisible chains.

Slowly, Iva pushed herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, staring at nothing as her thoughts began to sharpen.

Crying wouldn’t save her.

She had already learned that.

“If I tell them now how we planned,” she said quietly, “they won’t believe me.”

Avalon didn’t answer immediately.

Iva continued, her voice hollow. “If I tell my parents that I’m the Messenger, that I can see fated bonds… they’ll think I’m lying. Or worse, that I’m desperate. After everything that happened today… they won’t hear me.”

“You’re right,” Avalon said gently.

The truth settled heavily between them.

“Then how?” Iva asked. “How do I make them believe me?”

There was a pause.

Then Avalon spoke, carefully.

“If Nick accepts the bond.”

Iva stiffened.

“Once a fated bond is accepted,” Avalon continued, “the mate connection awakens fully. The tingles, the pull, the certainty. He would feel it too.”

Iva’s skin crawled.

Nick.

The thought of him made her stomach twist.

“Nick lied,” she whispered. “He wanted me get punished and he didn’t care.”

“People can change,” Avalon said hesitantly. “Sometimes fear, pride, or ignorance blinds them.”

Iva shook her head slowly.

“After today?” she said bitterly. “After what he did? I highly doubt he’ll suddenly grow a conscience. Yes, I loved him all these years, but what he did today was the breaking point. Do we really want a mate like him? A cheater? A liar? A cruel petty vindictive prick?!”

The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain.

Then Avalon spoke again, her voice firmer this time.

“We owe ourselves one last try.”

Iva closed her eyes.

“Tomorrow,” Avalon continued. “At school. You approach him. You tell him the truth.”

“And if he laughs?” Iva asked quietly. “If he mocks me again?”

“Then we leave,” Avalon said without hesitation. “We walk away from this pack. From the people who rejected us. They don’t deserve us!”

Iva’s heart pounded.

“We’ll be alone,” she whispered.

“We’ll be free,” Avalon replied.

Iva swallowed hard, staring at the door of her room—the invisible prison that now held her.

Tomorrow.

She would face him… the final chance.

And whatever happened next would decide everything.

Either she would be believed…

Or she would leave her pack forever and never come back.