Freya tapped her index finger on her lap slowly, her eyes taking in hurriedly, the expressions of everyone present.
Her father was in a contemplative mood.
Her mate and his twin were curious.
The werewolves were lost.
Well, she was lost too.
Her eyes settled finally on her mother, who had a calm expression on her face, a sharp contrast to what it was before Emma had mentioned the training field. What was that about?
Yes, training surely went on there—considering the term—but was that all? How had her mother known about the place? At what time did she go there? Why did she tell Emma to wait for her there? How had she known that Emma would get the message? Motherly instincts?
"Freya…is everything okay?"
Freya jerked, her tapping motion stopping as soon as she heard Emma's worried voice.
"I hope you can understand the reasons for my actions…"
