Decissions-1
Light and words and faces so many faces-all blending together until Iva couldn’t tell one from another. She felt the weight of something ancient settle onto her shoulders like a mantle she had never asked for.
The Goddess Messenger.
That was who she was now. Not Iva. Something bigger. Something that belonged to everyone.
Caleb’s hand found the small of her back as they walked through the great doors of the royal castle. His touch was steady, grounding, the only thing keeping her from floating away entirely.
The castle rose around her-stone and shadow and centuries of history. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing light over tapestries that depicted battles and bonds and the faces of kings long dead. Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor.
And everywhere, there were people.
They came from the corridors. From the great hall. From doorways she hadn’t even noticed. Wolves in fine clothes and simpler clothes, old and young, all of them with the same hungry look in their eyes.
They wanted to speak to her.
She could feel it pressing against her from all sides-the intensity, the desperation, the social pressure that threatened to crush her chest. They surged forward like a tide, hands reaching, mouths opening, voices overlapping in a cacophony of requests and congratulations and demands.
“Messenger, if I could just-”
“The Bloodmoon Pack has waited-”
“Please, my Alpha sent me to-”
Iva’s head spun. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t pick out a single voice from the roar.
She was the Messenger.
For many decades, the packs had been fighting for her presence.\
To be chosen.
Because having the Messenger gave them an advantage-a gift that could skyrocket their existence. She would facilitate more fated bondings. More bondings meant more pups. More pups meant more Elites- the gifted wolves, the ones born with power that ordinary wolves could only dream of.
All of it rested on her. On who she chose. On where she went. On which packs she blessed with her
presence.
The weight of it nearly brought her to her knees.
Then Caleb moved.
He stepped forward, positioning himself between Iva and the crowd. His hand left her back, and immediately she felt the loss-but then his arm swept out, a gesture of command that silenced every
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<Decissions e.
veice in the room..
“That is enough.”
His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be: It carried the weight of his crown, his power, his absolute authority.
The crowd stilled.
Claim
Caleb’s gaze swept over them, cold and measured. He let the silence stretch, let them feel the full force of his displeasure.
“With immediate effect,” he said, “a general communication will be sent to all packs with the confirmation that the Goddess Messenger has risen.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. He silenced them with a look
“We will organize an event in one week’s time. At that event, everyone will get the chance to meet her.”
Iva’s heart pounded.
A week. I have one week.
“But for now, as the king announced,” Caleb continued, his voice dropping to something harder, something that allowed no argument, “she is under the Crown’s protection. Everyone should refrain from trying to get to her. That time will come for everyone.”
He paused, letting his words sink in.
The crowd shifted. Hesitated. Some looked angry. Some looked disappointed. But none of them moved. None of them dared.
Caleb held his ground, a wall of power and presence between Iva and the hungry masses.
“Leave us.”
The words were quiet. Final, while his lycan aura sent a shiver across the room.
One by one, reluctantly, they began to disperse. They backed away with bowed heads and muttered compliance, casting longing glances at Iva as they went. But they went.
And Iva let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding,
Her shoulders sagged. Her knees felt weak. The relief was so intense it almost hurt.
۴
She looked at Caleb-at the hard line of his jaw, the unyielding set of his shoulders-and felt something swell in her chest.
Gratitude. Deep and overwhelming.
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