Chapter 2

I slammed the Alpha carved stone door’s study behind me, the sound echoing through the empty stone corridor as I fled. My breaths came fast, my claws half-extended. Hands trembling, I dug through my satchel for my moon-stone communicator.

Five years. Five years avoiding this number, avoiding my lineage, avoiding the wolf I truly was.

The contact still glowed on the screen: “Father.”

My thumb trembled. Everything I’d escaping from—my birthright, my power, my place in the Rustpire Dominion—it all pulled me back here.

Before I could hesitate, I tapped the call rune. The hollow ring echoed through the silent underground parking caverns beneath Axton’s territory.

One ring. Two. Three—

“Isolde?” My father’s voice—deep, rough, unmistakably Alpha—hit me like a physical strike.

“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.”

My throat tightened. “Calder. You’re still with the pack.”

“Where else should I belong? They’re waiting for you.”

He held the carriage door open with a familiar, reverent gesture.

I slid inside the enchanted leather interior. The scent—pine resin, polished steel, and old magic—flooded me with memories.

As we sped away from Axton’s tower, the city lights blurred like streaks of starlight through the windows. Every mile carried me closer to the life I had abandoned.

The Rustpire Manor rose behind its iron-wolf gates, towering like a fortress carved from moonstone. Calder stopped before the grand steps where two figures waited. My parents.

I jumped out, my knees weakened halfway up the staircase.

Father’s expression was indescribable—Alpha mask firmly in place—but his eyes burned with something softer. Between pain and relief. Suddenly mother ran so fast towards me.

“Isolde!” She rushed down, velvet robes trailing behind her. She wrapped me in her arms, smelling of winter roses and home. “My little wolf, you came back.”

I hid my face in her trembling shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mother. I truly am.”

As pulling me back, she cupped my cheeks. “Now you’re here. That’s enough.”

I ascended the remaining steps toward Father. His face unreadable, carved from stone. Five years of silence stretched between us like an entire kingdom.

Then his features softened. The hard Alpha lines eased, his eyes crinkled, and a smile—rare, real—broke through.

He pulled me into a firm embrace, his familiar scent of ironwood and storm magic surrounding me. The pat on my back felt like absolution.

“Took you long enough, Isolde.” His voice was still gruff, still protective, still his.

He kept an arm around me as we entered the stronghold’s grand hall. Moon-crystal chandeliers cast shimmering patterns across the marble floor. Nothing had changed.

“Do you realize, Isolde?” Father said as he guided me toward his study, “our kind doesn’t treat legacy lightly. It’s blood. It’s magic. It’s destiny.”

His hand tightened on my shoulder. “No wolf escapes it. Never truly. My father taught me this, and so did my grandfather to him.”

“I know. I finally do.” The words came easier as we reached the study. Mother settled beside me on the plush fur-lined couch, her hand finding mine.

“Tell us everything,” Father said, lowering himself into his ironwood chair. “In past five years…”

I inhaled shakily. “I wanted a normal wolf’s life. And Axton seemed… perfect. Strong, charming. So we decided to bounded under the Moon Oath, started a life together, until life slapped me with hard truth.”

“What happened that change your mind?” Mother asked gently.

“Everything.” My voice trembled. “He’s been bedding his Beta assistant for months. And that’s not even the worst—” I swallowed. “Two years ago, when I became pregnant… he pushed me into ending the pregnancy. Said it wasn’t the right choice. And all along, he was already betraying me.”

Father surged to his feet, fury rippling off him like crackling magic. He pulled out his communicator. “That mongrel! I’ll have him and that she-wolf erased from the map by dawn.”

“No.” I rose, shoulders squared, something ancient awakening inside me. “I left the Rustpire Pack for him. That was my choice. My big mistake.”

My voice sharpened like a blade. “So I’ll handle this myself. And this time—” A cold smile curved my lips. “I’ll deal with them as Isolde Rustpire. Not Isolde of Axton’s pack.”

Father paused. Looked at me. And something shifted—recognition, pride, acceptance of the heir standing before him. He lowered the communicator.

“Sounds make sense.” He nodded once, deliberate. “This is your battle. But keep in mind—”

“I know.” I lifted my chin, the Rustpire legacy settling on my shoulders like armor. “A Rustpire always finishes what they start.”