The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 363

Taken II

The war room had become a crucible of fear and desperation.

The King stood at the head of the long wooden table, his hands gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His phone lay before him, its screen dark, mocking him with its silence. He had lost count of how many times he had dialed Caleb’s number-ten, twenty, thirty times. Each attempt had been met with the same hollow result: voicemail.

He tried again.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Then the familiar click, followed by the automated voice

that made his blood boil.

*”The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone.”*

The King’s jaw tightened until his teeth ached. He ended the call and immediately redialed.

Again.

Again.

Again.

*”The person you are trying to reach is unavailable…”*

He slammed his fist against the table, the impact sending papers scattering across the surface. The war room fell silent, every wolf present freezing in place, their eyes fixed on their King with a

mixture of fear and sympathy.

“DAMN IT!” the King roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. “Where is he? Why isn’t he

answering?”

The head of the Royal Guard stepped forward hesitantly, his face pale.

“Your Majesty, Prince Caleb and Alpha Attia were heading into enemy territory. The intelligence we received suggested they would be engaging with the attakers within hours. It’s likely that Prince Caleb has shifted into his Lycan form.”

The King’s eyes blazed.

“Lycan form? He won’t be checking his messages for hours. He won’t even know anything is wrong

until it’s too late. By the time he returns, Iva could be-”

He stopped himself, unable to finish the sentence.

The Queen moved to his side, her hand resting gently on his arm.

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“We will find her,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “We have to believe

that. For her sake. For the baby’s sake.”

The King’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of his fear pressing down on him like a physical

force.

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know. But the waiting-the not knowing-”

The Queen squeezed his arm.

“I understand. But we must be strong. For her.”

In the corner of the war room, Lori sat hunched in a chair, her face pale, her eyes hollow and/

red-rimmed. She had given her statement to the intelligence team, described the handmaid in

excruciating detail-the way she walked, the way she spoke, the way her eyes had flickered when she set down the tray. Every detail was cataloged, every nuance recorded.

But it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

Because Iva was still gone, and Lori was still here, powerless to help her.

She had tried to reach Attia as well, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number. The result had been the same-nothing. Voicemail. Silence.

She had tried again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

Hours had passed since the first attempts. The sun had set, plunging the castle into darkness.

Lori’s guilt was a living thing, a beast that clawed at her insides with relentless fury.

She should have noticed. She should have questioned. She should have stopped it before it

started. She had been right there, in the room with Iva, and she had let that woman get close. She

had let her serve the tea. She had let her walk away.

*I should have been faster,* she thought. *I should have seen through the disguise. I should have

protected her. *

“Lori.”

The Queen’s voice cut through her spiral of self-loathing, gentle but firm.

Lori looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, her cheeks stained with dried tears.

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Taken

“We will find her,” the Queen said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of absolute conviction. “Bet” you need to stay strong. For Iva. For the baby. For when we bring her home.”

Lori nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. All she could see was Iva’s face, peaceful in unconsciousness, slipping away from her.

“Your Majesty,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I should have-”

The Queen knelt beside her, taking her hands.

“No,” she said firmly. “You should not have done anything differently. This was a carefully planned operation, orchestrated by people who knew exactly what they were doing.”

Lori’s eyes filled with fresh tears.

“But I was right there. I was right there, and I let her-”

The Queen squeezed her hands.

“Lori. Listen to me. None of this is your fault. Do you understand? None of it.”

Lori looked into the Queen’s eyes, searching for the lie, the hollow reassurance.

She found none.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The intelligence team worked through the hours, their eyes burning from hours of staring at screens. They cross-referenced the handmaid’s face with every database they had access to, searching for a match, a clue, anything that might lead them to Iva.

Finally, they found something.

One of the analysts, a young wolf with tired eyes and an exhausted slump to his shoulders, sat up

suddenly.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice sharp with urgency. “We found something. A group of staff

members-they were seen carrying a large crate out of the castle through a service entrance.”

The King crossed the room in three quick strides, his eyes fixed on the monitor.

“What time? Which entrance?”

The analyst pointed to a section of footage.

“Here, Your Majesty. The crate was loaded onto a vehicle with blacked-out windows.”

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The King’s eyes narrowed.

“Who are they? Do we have names?”

The chief of staff was summoned, his face pale with fear. He stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly.

“Your Majesty, they were newly hired. Few weeks ago. Their references checked out. Their backgrounds were clean. There was no reason to suspect them.”

The King’s aura flared, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees.

“How is this possible? How did they get through our screening?”

The chief of staff swallowed hard.

“They were screened. Thoroughly. Whoever orchestrated this did an excellent job of hiding their tracks. The references were falsified, but they were convincing enough to pass our standard checks. We’re still investigating, but-”

“Find them,” the King said, his voice low and deadly. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care what

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