Freya
The phone screen glowed beneath my fingers as I quickly scrolled through their chat history. My heart sank with each message that loaded. Every morning - without fail - Isabella would message Aurora first thing.
"Good morning, Aunt Aurora!" followed by little wolf emojis and hearts. Their conversations stretched for hours, spanning topics that should have been shared with me - her mother.
Selene growled low in my chest, a possessive sound I couldn't quite suppress. This was my daughter - our daughter - yet another woman had somehow claimed her affections so completely.
When the elevator chimed, I quickly placed the phone back exactly where Isabella had left it, my movements fluid from years of efficient pack management. I turned away, pretending to check my purse.
Is
