The Messenger

Enough for Each Other

The moment the car started moving, the tension that had been strangling Iva’s chest loosened just a little, enough for her to breathe again, though the air still felt thick and heavy in her lungs. Her heart was still racing, her hands cold despite the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the windshield.

Rana glanced at her from the driver’s seat, her brow furrowing.

“Are you okay?” her mother asked softly. “You look pale.”

Iva swallowed, her throat tight. “I… I don’t feel very well. I’m dizzy. My head hurts.”

It was not a lie, not really. Her body felt off balance, her emotions twisted into knots she could not untangle. Plus the strong hits that she received earlier in the library from Mark.

Rana hummed a low, thoughtful sound, her fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel. She slowed the car for a moment, then glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes lingering on the direction where Mark had disappeared.

Her jaw tightened.

After a few seconds of silence, she spoke again, her voice gentle but weighted with something deeper.

“You know you can tell me anything, Iva. Anything at all.” She reached out briefly, resting her hand over Iva’s trembling one. “You are my pup. I love you to pieces. There is nothing you could do that would change that.”

Iva nodded, her eyes stinging, her chest aching at the warmth in those words.

But she stayed silent.

The truth pressed against her ribs, desperate to be let out, yet fear held it back. Fear of being doubted. Fear of making things worse. Fear of tearing the last fragile thread holding her family together. Plus, she never wanted to push her mother chose between her and her father, so…

The car rolled forward again, the sound of tires against asphalt filling the space between them.

Then Rana spoke once more.

“Mark was… quite intense earlier,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care. “Was he the one?”

Iva froze.

Her breath caught painfully in her chest. “The one?” she repeated, confused, her heart beginning to pound again.

Rana’s eyes flickered to her, then back to the road. “The one from the forest,” she clarified quietly.

A wave of nausea surged through Iva so strongly she had to grip the edge of the seat. Only the suggestion made her sick.

She turned toward her mother, panic and desperation flooding her face.

“Mom… please believe me,” she said, her voice shaking. “There was no one in the forest. No one. Nick is lying. He’s covering his own sins. He always has.”

Rana said nothing.

She studied Iva from the corner of her eye, her expression torn, conflicted, as if two truths were warring inside her. Iva had never lied to her. Not once. Not about scraped knees, not about broken rules, not about the small rebellions of growing up.

And yet… since the shift, everything had gone wrong. Plus, what reason Nick would have to do something like this?

Iva had closed herself off, retreating into silence and shadows. Rhys had changed too, hardened into someone Rana barely recognized, his words sharp, his actions cruel, his loyalty bent entirely toward the Alpha’s will.

They always cared for the pack’s future, but their last actions made her shiver in disbelief.

Plus, it was as if the house itself had become hostile overnight.

Rana felt the ache build behind her eyes.

She wanted to scream. To shake her mate and demand that he look at their daughter, truly look at her, and see the damage he was doing. To their child. To their bond. To the family they had built with so much hope and sacrifice.

But she didn’t, as each time she tried, she was shut down merciless. Rhys never lifted his hand against her till yesterday, when he slapped her for the first time and said that it was because of her soft attitude that Iva dishonoured their name.

She swallowed the pain, like she had swallowed so much already.

Taking a long, steadying breath, Rana pushed her thoughts aside, placed both hands firmly on the wheel.

“We’re going home,” she said quietly.

The car pulled onto the road, carrying them back toward a house filled with silence, secrets, and a bonds that were slowly being torn apart, one unspoken truth at a time.

--

The moment the car stopped in front of the house, Iva unbuckled her seatbelt with mechanical movements, her body moving on instinct rather than will. She did not wait, did not look back, did not say a word.

She opened the door and stepped out.

Rana watched in silence as her daughter crossed the small yard and went straight inside, her shoulders slightly hunched, as if she were bracing against a storm that never truly passed.

Iva did not come to the kitchen.

She did not pause at the counter, did not perch on the stool she always claimed as hers, did not start talking the moment she set her bag down.

She went straight to her room.

And something inside Rana broke.

She remained frozen in place for a long moment, staring at the empty kitchen chair, her chest aching with a pain that felt too heavy to carry. Memories flooded her mind without mercy.

Iva at twelve, swinging her legs while Rana cooked, stealing bites and laughing when scolded.

Iva at fifteen, whispering secrets and gossip, eyes bright with dreams.

Iva just months ago, teasing her, helping chop vegetables, filling the house with warmth and noise.

Now the house felt… hollow.

Rana stepped inside slowly, the air thick and cold, as if the walls themselves had turned away from her. She looked around the kitchen, at the untouched counter, at the empty stool, and it felt like she had walked into a stranger’s home.

Her throat tightened.

Her eyes burned.

She blinked hard, forcing the tears back, refusing to let them fall.

Then the familiar pull of a mind link brushed against her senses.

“Rana,” the Luna’s voice echoed gently but firmly. “I need you.”

Rana closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, steadying herself. She wiped her cheeks quickly, smoothing her expression into something composed, something acceptable.

With heavy steps, she moved back toward the door.

Before leaving, she paused, her gaze lifting toward the staircase, toward Iva’s closed bedroom door.

“I’m here, my little pup,” she whispered under her breath, though she knew her daughter could not hear her. “Always.”

Then, with one last lingering look, Rana turned and left the house, carrying her heartbreak with her, unanswered and unseen.

--

Back in her room, with the door finally closed behind her, Iva let out a breath she felt she had been holding for days.

The air rushed from her lungs in a shaky exhale, and only then did she realize how tight her chest had been, how every step outside that room felt like walking under the weight of an invisible hand pressing her down. She leaned her back against the door for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wrap around her like a fragile shield.

“It feels,” she whispered into the quiet, her voice barely audible, “like with every passing day my presence in this pack becomes heavier and heavier.”

She slid down until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to her chest.

“It’s like I’m being pushed to leave,” she continued softly. “Like everything is pointing in that direction. Every look, every word, every decision they make. Maybe… maybe this is how it’s supposed to be.”

Avalon stirred beneath her skin, warm and steady, a quiet presence that soothed the raw edges of her thoughts.

“Whatever happens,” Avalon replied gently, “you must never forget who you are. Who we are.”

Iva lifted her head slightly.

“We have a chosen destiny,” Avalon continued, her voice gaining quiet strength. “We are the Messenger, Iva. Never forget this. Our time to shine will come, and when it does… everyone in this pack will regret the way they treated us.”

A pause, then softly but with certainty:

“They will all eat their words. Trust me.”

Iva swallowed, emotion tightening her throat, but she nodded.

“I trust you,” she murmured.

Her gaze drifted to her phone. Slowly, she reached for it, her fingers hesitating before she unlocked the screen.

Her heart ached with the urge to check.

Just one look. Just to know. To open the email address she created specially for her school application.

But she exhaled and locked the screen again, setting the phone face down.

“I can’t,” she said quietly. “Not from here. Not from any of our devices. Once I’m gone, they’ll search everything. I can’t leave any breadcrumbs behind.”

She stared at the ceiling, the uncertainty pressing down on her again.

“It seems we’ll leave without knowing what truly awaits us, if we got accepted or not. The library is not an option anymore.” she whispered.

Avalon’s presence wrapped around her like a promise.

“You won’t be alone,” her wolf said firmly. “You will have me. Always.”

Avalon hesitated, then added, “I know I’m not powerful in strength. I’m not big or imposing. But we have abilities. We are extremely fast, and we know how to mask our scent. It may not be much, but I promise you… I will be the best companion I can be.”

Iva felt something warm bloom in her chest.

She smiled, small but genuine, the first in what felt like forever.

“You are more than enough, Avalon,” she whispered. “You and me… we’ll be enough for each other.”

And for the first time that day, despite the fear and the unknown waiting beyond the pack borders, Iva felt a flicker of hope settle deep in her soul.