Thinking of this, Freya swallowed her tears and packed all those little keepsakes away.
When the courier from the Pack arrived, she handed him the bundle and instructed calmly, “Deliver this to Manor Fourteen exactly one lunar week from today. The recipient is Sorenna. Tell her she may enjoy the mate and heir now. I’m throwing out this worthless pair.”
“What pair are you throwing out, Freya?”
As the words left her lips, Alpha Riven approached, holding Kael in his arms. The boy clutched a bouquet of bright crimson fire-roses.
The moment Riven set him down, Kael sprinted toward her. “Mother, I picked these just for you! Do you like them?”
He tiptoed, offering the roses with both hands—his eyes sparkling with anticipation, desperate for her praise.
Riven’s gaze followed the leaving courier. His wolf sharpened with suspicion. “What did you send just now?”
Freya offered no detail. “Nothing important. Just some useless clutter.”
“You should’ve let the house servants handle that,” Riven chided softly, brows knitting as if deeply concerned. “Your health isn’t strong. You need more rest.”
“I’m not crafted from moon-glass. A bit of lifting won’t break me,” she replied.