“You’ve gotten fuller,” he murmured absently, then corrected himself, “That’s good. You used to be too thin. No matter how you look, I love you just the same.”
A cold, faint smile touched her lips, yet she didn’t reply.
Her figure hadn’t changed in years. The comment came only because his hands were used to tracing Sorenna’s narrow waist.
Perhaps driven by guilt, Riven took her to one of the elite boutiques reserved for high-ranking wolves and personally chose a crimson gown for her.
When Freya stepped out wearing the tailored dress, hair styled and makeup done, a flicker of astonishment crossed his gaze.
Kael clapped excitedly, “Mommy, you look so beautiful!”
But as Freya looked in the mirror, the image of Sorenna—recently seen on the Pack Broadcast wearing a similar red gown—flashed in her mind. In all these years, she’d never worn red.
Yet when choosing a dress for her, Riven had instinctively picked Sorenna’s favored color.
In the past, she would have confronted him directly, demanded answers, maybe even threatened separation within the pack. But now… she couldn’t be bothered.
With less than a moon cycle left, she let him do as he pleased.