“Freya?”
My heart clenched as I caught sight of her, my mother, after all these years. The sight of her aged face, marked by time in a way that werewolves weren’t supposed to be, sent a chill down my spine.
It was disturbing, to say the least, especially considering werewolves were meant to retain their youthful appearance for centuries. No one wolf aged this drastically in only four years.
A mix of emotions washed over me as my mother smiled and took a step closer. But I couldn’t bring myself to reciprocate. Despite her appearance, she was still the same woman who had treated me like trash for years.
Her voice, filled with false sweetness, reached my ears, but I knew better than to trust it. It was a mask, hiding the cruelty and indifference that laid behind her facade.
I bet if we w
