The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 368

The Mark

The Mark

The walk back to their modest house was a gauntlet of stares.

Iva kept her head down, her hand clasped tightly in Nick’s, her steps quick and purposeful. The pack members they passed seemed to pause in their activities, their eyes following her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. Some were curious, others wary, and a few held a coldness in their gaze that sent shivers down her spine.

Nick noticed her discomfort. He squeezed her hand, his voice low and reassuring.

“Almost there,” he murmured.

But his words did little to ease the knot of anxiety in her chest.

The house was modest but well-maintained, tucked away at the edge of the pack’s territory. It was simple, functional. The walls were made of rough-hewn timber, the windows small and unadorned, the furnishings sparse but comfortable.

It was supposed to be a safe haven.

But Iva had never felt more exposed.

Once inside, she let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping with relief. The door closed behind

them, sealing out the prying eyes of the pack.

She leaned against the wall, her hand pressed to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

Nick watched her, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You’re shaking,” he observed. “What’s wrong?”

Iva shook her head, her voice trembling.

“The way they look at me,” she said. “I don’t understand it. I feel like they’re… judging me. Like they know something I don’t.”

Nick laughed softly, the sound dismissive.

“You’re overthinking,” he said, crossing to her and cupping her face in his hands. “It’s probably just a remnant from your imprisonment. You’ve been through so much, Iva. Your mind is still trying to make sense of everything.”

Iva frowned, unconvinced.

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The Mark

“But the stares-”

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“Are just stares,” Nick interrupted gently. “They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve been through. All they see is a stranger in their midst. It’s natural for them to be curious.”

He paused, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

“You have to remember, I finally saved you after months and months of trying. We’re in one of the isolated northern packs now. They were kind enough to shield us, to hide us from a possible Lycan backlash. They took a risk for us. The least we can do is give them time to adjust and lay low.”

Iva nodded, though the unease lingered.

The word “Lycan” sent shivers down her spine. She could picture them-their aggression, their arrogance, their violence, their air of superiority.

She pushed the thoughts away, forcing herself to focus on the present.

They moved into the small living room, and Iva froze.

Her father was there.

Rhys sat in one of the worn armchairs.

“How did it go?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Nick’s expression hardened.

“She didn’t go through with it,” he said, his tone clipped. “She’s still refusing to get rid of the problem

Rhys’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting to Iva.

“Iva,” he said, his voice heavy with disapproval. “You will have other pups in this life. You are mated to your fated mate. Don’t ruin your life and your relationship for a beast.”

Iva’s hand flew to her belly, protective and instinctive.

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“Father-”

“This pack was kind enough to hide us,” Rhys continued, his voice rising. “How do you believe its members would react to sensing your pup as half-Lycan?”

Iva felt the words hit her like a physical blow.

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

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The Mark

The weight of their expectations, their judgments, their fears-it all pressed down on her, suffocating and relentless.

She looked at Nick. She looked at her father.

She saw their faces etched with concern and frustration.

And she realized, with a sinking heart, that they would never understand. They would never understand why she couldn’t let go, why she felt such a fierce, protective bond with the life growing inside her.

“I need some air,” she said.

She turned and walked out of the room, ignoring their calls.

Outside, the night air was cool and crisp.

Iva walked to the edge of the property, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes fixed on the

stars above.

The conflict raged inside her-a storm of emotions that she couldn’t control. Part of her knew that

Nick and her father were right. The child growing inside her was a constant reminder of the

horrors she had endured.

But another part of her-the part that had survived, that had fought to stay alive, that had clung to

hope when all seemed lost-refused to let go.

She pressed her hand to her belly.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered into the darkness. “I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

The night offered no answers.

The bathroom was warm and steamy, the air thick with the scent of lavender soap and the

lingering heat of the shower. Iva stood before the mirror, a towel wrapped around her body, her hair dripping onto her shoulders. She had hoped the hot water would wash away the tension, the fear, the constant weight of uncertainty that had been pressing down on her for weeks.

For a few moments, it had worked.

The water had been a blessing, cascading over her skin, soothing her aching muscles. She had

closed her eyes and let herself drift, pretending-just for a moment-that she was somewhere else. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where the past didn’t haunt her and where she had all her

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memories and wolf intact.

But reality had a way of creeping back in.

She wiped the mirror with her palm, the fog clearing in a slow, deliberate arc. Her reflection stared back at her-pale, tired, with dark circles under her eyes that no amount of sleep seemed to erase.

She looked older than she felt, the weight of her experiences etched into the lines of her face.

She thought about Nick.

She thought about how lucky she was to have him. How he had risked everything-his safety, his

pack, his future-to save her from the Lycans.

How he accepted her, despite everything.

Despite the trauma. Despite the fact that she was carrying a child that wasn’t his. Despite the fact

that her inner wolf had abandoned her, leaving her feeling hollow and incomplete.

He had never once made her feel less than whole.

And she was grateful.

She traced her fingers along the edge of the mirror, her eyes drifting across her reflection. The steam was beginning to clear, and she could see herself more clearly now- the swell of her belly, the faint, fading mark on her neck.

Her hand froze.

The mark.

She leaned closer to the mirror, her breath catching in her throat. There, on the side of her neck,

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