"Mommy, can I go to work with you?" Kieran asked, his small golden eyes fixed on mine as I straightened the silver collar of my tunic.I paused, looking down at my five-year-old son standing in the hallway of our small stone cottage. He wore his heavy wool coat, his dark curly hair falling over a forehead that looked far too much like the Alpha King who had abandoned us."No, Kieran," I said softly, crouching down so my heavy frame was eye-level with him. "The sanctuary design office is full of sharp tools and heavy fabrics today. I need to finish the formal garments for the visiting Alpha delegates.""I won't touch anything, Mommy," Kieran insisted, his small jaw setting in that stubborn, rigid line I knew all too well. "Grandma is taking Freya Jr. to the herbal market. I want to see where you draw.""Let the boy go with you, Freya," my mother, Martha Holloway, said as she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her thin, scarred hands on a kitchen rag. "He spends all day reading those thi
Última actualización : 2026-08-01 Leer más