“Father, I—” The word lodged in my throat. Tears spilled freely. “I’m sorry. I made a huge mistake. I wrong about everything.”
Silence followed, thick with five years of distance.
“I want to come back to the manor,” I breathed. “I realize I should be who I was meant to be. A Rustpire Luna. The Alpha Ronin’s daughter. The heir of the Rustpire.”
“Isolde—”
“I know I escaped. I know I wounded the pack. But I understand now. I understand the bloodline, our name, our magic.”
I gripped the communicator. “I will start from the scratch. I will study everything. Every single thing I should know.”
“Isolde, do you know where you are now?”
“Lower city… in my mate’s tower. Axton’s territory.”
“Don’t go anywhere.” His tone hardened, the command of a High Alpha layered with lunar steel. “I’m transporting an escort.”
***
A sleek black moon-carriage rolled to a stop fifteen minutes later, propelled by silent enchantments.
The moon-carriage door opened, and someone popped his head out— he was Calder, getting older now, with silver hair at his temples, but smiling the same warm smile he’d given me since puphood.
“Little Wolf of Rustpire,” he said, straightening his mantle. “Welcome home.”