Freya
Isabella watched with appreciation, and when I handed her the perfectly cleaned shrimp, her smile was genuine. "No one does it like you do, Mom."
As I continued peeling shrimp for Isabella, Aunt Emma suddenly paused, her keen eyes focusing on my hands.
"Dear Luna, where is your ring?" she asked, her voice carrying across the table.
At her words, every pair of eyes—including Silvano’s—turned to my bare left hand. The absence of the silver band with its moonstone centerpiece felt conspicuous now, though I’d grown accustod to its absence.
After our mating ceremony, despite our increasingly cold relationship, I had always worn the ceremonial bonding ring Luna Victoria had selected for us. It was tradition, symbolizing not just our union but my position as Luna.
My shrimp-peeling motion paused imperceptibly before I responded with practiced casualness, "I was in a rush this morning and left it at ho."
The truth was more deliberate: I had removed the ring when I first prepared the divorce papers. I had placed it in the envelope alongside the agreent, a symbolic return of everything he’d given .
However, we weren’t officially divorced yet. I knew Luna Victoria would vehently oppose our separation—a Luna and Alpha divorce would shake the pack’s stability, especially with Isabella’s position as heir to consider.
If I brought up the subject now, in the middle of dinner with the pack’s most traditional elder present, it would create chaos and likely make it impossible for Silvano and to proceed with a clean separation.
Luna Victoria smiled at my explanation. "I see. Be sure to wear it next ti, dear. A Luna’s ring carries the pack’s blessing."
I nodded noncommittally, and conversation resud around us. Silvano’s eyes lingered on my bare finger for a mont longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned his attention back to his al.
After dinner, everyone moved to the living room for dessert and coffee. As always,Aunt Emma orchestrated the seating to push Silvano and together.
"Silvano, make room for your mate," she instructed firmly when he took a seat in one of the oversized leather armchairs.
My mate still wouldn’t spare a glance, but he shifted slightly. Unable to keep refusing Aunt Emma’s wishes without causing a scene, I perched on the edge of the chair beside him.
This was the first ti we had sat this close to each other in months. I could clearly sll his familiar scent. Once, that scent had been ho to . Now, Selene stirred restlessly, confused by the proximity to our mate who no longer acted like one.
I focused on my berry tart, showing no intention of initiating conversation with Silvano. He seed equally determined to maintain our silence, his body angled slightly away from mine despite the limited space.
"You two make such a perfect match,"Aunt Emma sighed, smiling at us both with clear satisfaction.
From the outside, perhaps we did. He was powerfully built and commanding, the very image of an Alpha in his pri. I had been told I complented him with my quieter grace. We looked perfect together on the surface—the strong, dominant Alpha and his beautiful Luna.
But our compatibility ended at appearances. In terms of other qualities—the strength, cunning, and political savvy needed to be a true Luna—I had always fallen short in the pack’s eyes. Aurora’s constant presence had only highlighted my inadequacies.
That evening, following Aunt Emma’s insistence, we stayed overnight at the pack mansion. Around eight o’clock, Silvano excused himself to discuss pack business with York and the elders in the study.
Isabella tugged at my hand as they departed, her gray eyes—so like her father’s—looking up at hopefully. "Mom, can you help take a bath and tuck in?"
The simple request ward my heart. This was sothing we hadn’t done together in too long. "Of course, little wolf."
Upstairs in her bathroom, Isabella splashed in the lavender-scented bubbles while I sat on the edge of the tub. For a mont, it felt like old tis, before Aurora’s increased presence, before Silvano’s coldness had infected our daughter’s attitude toward .
"Mom?" Isabella asked tentatively, playing with a handful of bubbles. "Are you... are you busy tomorrow morning?"
I could sense her uncertainty, the way she bit her lower lip—exactly as Silvano did when conflicted. Though she was asking about my availability, I sensed she was hoping for a specific answer.
"No, I’m not busy," I replied honestly. "Why do you ask?"
Hearing this, Isabella’s lips turned downward in disappointnt as she said, "Nothing."
Since she didn’t elaborate, I didn’t press further. Whatever Aurora had planned with my daughter, I wouldn’t create conflict by demanding answers. Instead, I focused on making this mont positive.
After her bath, I wrapped Isabella in a fluffy towel and gently dried her dark hair with the blow dryer, working my fingers through the silky strands just as I used to when she was smaller.
"Mom?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Do you and Dad hate each other now?"
The question caught off-guard, and I felt Selene whine in distress. Children always saw more than adults gave them credit for.
I turned off the blow dryer and knelt to et Isabella’s eyes. "Your father and I have... difficulties right now. But neither of us hates the other. And both of us love you more than anything in this world or the next."
She studied my face with an intensity beyond her years—her father’s calculating gaze in miniature. "Then why don’t you wear your ring anymore?"
My heart clenched. "Sotis," I said carefully, "grown-ups need space to figure things out. But no matter what happens between your father and , you will always be our perfect little wolf."
I pulled her into my arms. Whatever ca next, I would ensure Isabella knew she was loved. That much, at least, I could promise.
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