The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 280

Your Last Worry-1

The knock on the door was urgent. Sharp. Demanding.

Iva crossed the room and pulled it open.

Attia stood in the hallway, his chest heaving, his dark eyes wild. His hair was disheveled, his shirt half-buttoned, his entire body radiating a barely contained intensity that made the air around him crackle.

One look in his direction, and you could sense the Alpha male aura-agitation, desperation, and raw, primal possessiveness.

Iva stepped back without a word, clearing the path.

He didn’t need directions. Didn’t need explanations. His body moved on instinct, following the pull of the bond, the scent that was driving him mad.

He stepped inside the small room.

And Lori’s scent hit him like a crashing wave.

His beast slammed against the barriers of his control-savage, relentless, almost feral.

“Mate,” Athos roared. “Heat. She needs us. She wants us. Bring mate. Claim mate. Now.”

Attia froze in place.

His hands trembled at his sides. His breathing was ragged. His entire body screamed at him to move, to find her, to take her.

Iva looked at him, confused by his sudden stillness

Then he snapped into motion.

He moved through the room like a predator on the hunt, his eyes scanning, his senses tracking. He pushed open the bathroom door.

And the sight that met him took his breath away.

Lori was curled on the floor of the shower stall, still beneath the cold spray, her body trembling, her arms. wrapped around her knees. Her thin tank top was soaked through, clinging to her skin. Her hair was plastered to her face.

She looked up at him.

Her eyes were wide, glazed with heat and fear. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

She looked so vulnerable. So scared.

It killed him.

Attia crossed the small space and shut off the water.

The sudden silence was deafening-broken only by Lori’s ragged breathing and the slow drip of water from

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Your Last WETTY I

the showerhead.

He didn’t speak,

Words were meaningless now.

He bent down and scooped her into his arms. She was cold-too cold-and he cradled her against his chest, feeling her shiver against him.

She whimpered. Her hands fisted in his shirt.

He carried her out of the bathroom, through the small dorm room, past Iva’s wide-eyed stare.

Iva caught her best friend’s eyes-glazed with heat and desire and fear-and whispered softly.

“Good luck, Lori.”

Then Attia was through the door, striding down the hallway, his mate in his arms.

And then the door closed behind them.

Iva stood alone in Lori’s empty room, her heart pounding.

She looked at the cold shower. The damp floor. The abandoned phone on the bed.

*Please, Moon Goddess* she thought. *Please let this be what they both need.*

She picked up Lori’s phone and slipped it into her pocket.

Then she walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

The night stretched on.

Clarm

Lori could barely register what was happening around her.

Her entire body was in overdrive-every nerve ending on fire, every cell screaming for relief that seemed just out of reach. The world blurred at the edges, sounds muffled, lights too bright, everything reduced to a haze of heat and need and desperate longing.

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When she had seen Attia in her doorway, she had believed her heart was about to break through her chest. The sight of him-tall, powerful, his dark eyes blazing with something she couldn’t name-had sent a shockwave through her already overwrought system.

And when he had taken her in his powerful arms, she had felt such overwhelming relief that tears had pricked at her eyes.

The contact of his skin against hers had been a balm. His warmth had seeped into her cold, trembling body, and for a single, blissful moment, the pain had receded.

But the relief was only temporary.

Now, the need to be all over him was increasing at an insane rate. Every second he wasn’t touching her felt like an eternity. Every breath he took without her felt like a betrayal. Her skin ached for his, her body

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<Your Last Were L

sercamed for his, her wolf howled with a desperation that bordered on madness.

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