CHAPTER 275: DAYS WITHOUT MOTHER

Freya’s life had been far more eventful over the past month. Her mother had gone away to train at an academy, under the direct order of the King of Werewolves. Freya knew this from her parents... no one dared to refuse a king’s command, not even her formidable great-grandmother.

She should have been happy about it, and in truth, she was at least for the first few days. Her father and Grandma Bella had been taking care of her during this time. Freya wasn’t like the other human children in her class; she was strong, capable, and fully aware of the world around her. She understood how adults behaved, even when they thought she didn’t. Still, her father treated her like a little girl. It could be embarrassing at times, but she secretly enjoyed the attention.

Grandma Bella, on the other hand, was human. She had no idea that Freya was far stronger than she was. Sometimes, she would carry Freya despite the strain it caused her frail body. She bathed her, fed her, fussed over her endlessly... things Freya would never normally allow anyone to do. Yet the warmth and affection that radiated from the old woman made it impossible for her to refuse.

Her mother had once told her that Grandma Bella had taken care of her, too, when she was a child. Their bond ran deep. Freya had grown to love this kind old woman, even if Bella never suspected that the little girl could hear her conversations with the house staff from rooms away.

Her father was a different story altogether. Freya had only met him a handful of times before returning from the United States a few months ago. But since they had come back to Manchester, he had been around much more... staying at the house a couple of nights a week. He was easy to manage. Whatever she asked for, he never said no.

After her mother left for the academy, her father spent almost every night with her. They went to amusement parks, tried new foods in restaurants, travelled to nearby towns, and played together late into the night... something her mother would never have allowed.

She was born in Rayndell, a special pocket dimension belonging to the Raynor Clan. The clan called it their ancestral land, a sacred place that only members could enter. Freya had spent nearly two years there. Her mother had been training for most of that time, so Freya grew up under the care of her Great-Great-Grandmother, Oswyn Raynor, and the many elders who watched over her.

On many days, her mother had to leave Rayndell with Great-Grandma Fiona, and Freya stayed behind, obedient and patient. She had always been a quick learner. With the elders’ guidance, she made remarkable progress... by six months she could run and speak clearly; by one year she could already read and write. The elders also taught her basic martial arts, swimming, and the early control of her werewolf form.

Her mother, though constantly training, was a hardworking woman who spent every spare moment with Freya. Inspired by her, Freya tried to learn as much as she could. She wanted to grow up quickly... strong enough to help her mother one day.

Her father, however, visited only a handful of times. For most of her early life, it had been just her and her mother. Freya once believed that her father didn’t love them. But after leaving Rayndell and moving to the United States, she began to talk to him more often. She came to understand that he was not absent out of neglect, but because he was busy with his business and clan affairs. He sent her many gifts to make up for his absence.

Her father always agreed to her requests, though he often sought her mother’s permission first... afraid of upsetting her. In America, her mother became even busier, managing a large business empire. Freya was homeschooled by private tutors, and a kind nanny cared for her in her mother’s stead.

Seeing her mother always working on the computer, she developed an interest of her own. When her mother realised this, she created Freya’s first friend... Ava. Although Ava was an artificial intelligence, she behaved and spoke like a human girl of the same age. Ava understood Freya better... even better than her mother did.

Her mother had personally developed Ava for her. Ava guided her in learning anything she wished and answered whatever questions she asked. Freya knew there was an age restriction placed on Ava by her mother, but she didn’t mind. Her mother had said that Ava would share information only according to Freya’s age and understanding. When Freya turned fourteen, Ava would become her ultimate assistant... no longer restricting her from knowing anything.

Her mother had also said that there was a great deal of information stored in Ava’s memory, which would be revealed to Freya when she turned fourteen. Since then, Freya had been eagerly waiting for that day to come.

Under Ava’s guidance, she had learnt how to code when she was only four years old. From there, her skills developed by leaps and bounds. According to Ava, she was still miles behind her mother in coding, yet Freya strove to reach that height... to one day stand shoulder to shoulder with her and make her proud.

Ava also joined her in gaming... sometimes as an opponent, sometimes as a teammate. Her mother wasn’t much of a gamer, but her father was very good at it. Although he often let Freya win, clever Freya always knew when he had lost on purpose.

All in all, after her mother left for the academy, Freya had been living happily. But over the past few days, she had begun to miss her mother deeply. It had been a long time since they had last spoken. Her mother had only sent one email during that period and hadn’t replied to Freya’s messages yet.

Freya had known this would happen... her mother had warned her before leaving, yet she couldn’t help feeling sad. It was the longest separation she had ever had from her mother, and she had no way to even call her.

Freya sat at her computer table, absent-minded, thinking about her mother as she stared blankly ahead. A wave of sadness seemed to envelop her small figure.

"Princess Freya, are you missing your mommy?" a voice suddenly called from behind.

She was startled by the sudden interruption in her thoughts, though only for a fleeting moment. She could control her emotions quite well through partial transformation... better than most her age. Besides, she recognised that voice by heart.

Turning her head, annoyance flickered across her face. "Daddy, you startled me! Sneaking up on people is bad. You should be punished," she chirped.

Ethan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Yes, Princess. Whatever you say is right. How about a Super Sundae from Grandpa Greene’s Luxury Ice Cream... does that sound like a fitting punishment?"

A wide smile lit up Freya’s face. "Did you bring ice cream? Show me! Show me!" she cried, hopping down from her chair.

"No, I didn’t bring any with me. But we can go to Oldham now if you like," Ethan said.

"Now?" Freya asked, puzzled.

"Yes. I thought you might be bored at home since school’s off today. So, I finished work early and came to pick you up," Ethan replied.

"Let’s go! I love their outdoor seating by the Huddersfield Canal," Freya said as she left her playroom and headed to her bedroom to change her clothes.

The afternoon sun was soft and golden as they drove through the quiet suburbs of Oldham. Autumn had brushed the town in hues of honey and russet, and the trees lining the roadside swayed lazily in the breeze. Freya sat by the window, her small chin resting on her palm, her eyes wide with quiet wonder.

Outside, the hills unfolded like a painting... gentle slopes of green fading into gold, distant sheep grazing like scattered dots. The canal glimmered beside the narrow road, its still water reflecting the sky like a silver-blue mirror. Ducks floated in pairs, leaving slow ripples behind them.

When they reached Grandpa Greene’s Luxury Ice Cream, the place looked as though it had stepped out of a storybook. Nestled beside the Huddersfield Narrow Canal, the café’s wooden deck stretched towards the water, bordered by pots of petunias and lavender. The scent of freshly baked waffles and roasted coffee drifted through the crisp air.

Ethan parked the car beneath a chestnut tree, and Freya hopped out, spinning once in delight.

They walked towards the deck, the wooden planks creaking softly beneath their feet. Freya ran ahead and stopped at the edge of the canal, where the water sparkled beneath the afternoon light.

The air carried a gentle chill, but the sun kept it pleasantly warm. From where they stood, the Pennine hills rolled endlessly, rising and falling like calm ocean waves.

Freya leaned over the railing, pointing excitedly. "Look, Daddy! Baby ducks!"

Tiny ducklings followed their mother, each bobbing head a perfect reflection of the next. The mother duck quacked softly, guiding them towards a patch of reeds. Freya giggled, her silver hair catching the sunlight as she waved at them.