Riven had arranged every detail of her day, the perfect image of a caring mate.
Yet, this kind of care was nothing more than a guilty conscience—an empty, pathetic gesture to cover up his infidelity.
Every time Rick cheated, he drowned Freya with attention, as if flowers and sweet words could erase the scent of another woman on his skin.
Those late-night messages, they always came at odd hours. Maybe he sent them right after finishing with her—while adjusting his clothes.
Or perhaps…
The thought made Freya’s stomach twist violently. She bolted to the bathchamber and vomited until her knees trembled and her body felt hollow.
When she finally stepped out, Kael had already finished his breakfast and was waiting by the door, backpack in hand.
The moment he saw her, he hurried over and instinctively grabbed her hand. “Mommy, if you don’t take me to school soon, I’ll be late.”
Freya pulled her hand away, her voice flat. “Jane will take you today. I’m tired.”
“I want you, Mommy.” Kael’s eyes widened, pleading. “Please.”
“No. I said I’m tired.” Her tone was cold—uncharacteristically sharp.
Kael froze. His little mouth clamped shut, confusion and hurt flickering in his eyes.