Ankyra Sound the fault is not in our stars, but the moon; that idiot rock ruins everything

Mallaidh realizes she cannot recognize the man from her memories. She knows it’s him but deep in her bones, she does not know the wolf standing in front of her. Her memories paint a man, big and strong, that kept her safe from harm. That played games with her and taught her things on the borders and secretly taught her how to say bad words in his native tongue when he thought they weren’t looking.

She remembers the man she was supposed to grow up with, to learn from, to be a proper heir for their home.

It’s not his fault.

Her jaw tightens and she looks away. No, it’s her fault. It’s always been her fault. As much blame as she puts on Roarke for their mother’s death, it is her fault their father stands before them a ghost of who he had been, of someone that will never come back. For a few seconds, she thinks fondly of Étoille, but guilt settles in deep and ugly.

“I should go,” she finally says as her breath hitches in her throat. He doesn't object, not that she expected him to, and she turns with an awkward smile to leave.