“I know you are angry about the pregnancy,” Malachi’s voice was lower now, trying to be persuasive. “Come home. Carry a pup for me, and I will put your name in the pack's lineage. You and your child will want for nothing.”
I let out a dry, cold laugh. “Go to hell, Malachi.”
I hung up and blocked his number before he could utter another word. The flight was long, spanning across territories I had never seen. I slept fitfully, dreaming of silver arrows and dead friends, but a sense of relief washed over me when the wheels finally touched the ground.
I stepped into the arrivals hall, and my eyes immediately found a tall man in a dark suit holding a sign: Rhea BLAKE.
I walked toward him. He bowed his head slightly, recognizing me instantly. “Miss Blake. I am Tony, your personal guard.”
“Thank you, Tony,” I said.
He took my luggage and led me to a sleek, black SUV. I sank into the plush leather seats, feeling the weight of the last eight years slowly lifting. We drove for a long time before pulling up to a massive, gated estate.
This was the ancestral home of the Blake family. My grandparents, John and Linda Blake, ran the most powerful empire in the West, and I was their only living heir.