The first pack arrived at dawn.
Dust-coated. Eyes sharp. Cloaks made from sand-hardened leaves.
They didn't speak at first.
They listened.
Liora met them with no title, no guards—just the mark on her wrist and her voice steady with welcome.
The lead wolf, a woman with braided scars across both shoulders, stepped forward.
"We felt the ground shift," she said. "And then… it spoke our mother's name."
Liora blinked. "Your mother?"
The woman nodded slowly.
"Yamira."
---
Sienna dropped the water flask.
Her hands trembled as she stepped from the crowd, her voice breaking.
"That name hasn't been spoken in thirty years."
Kaelen looked between them, heart in his throat.
The lead wolf stepped forward again, gentler now.
"We thought she died with the dunes."
Sienna shook her head.
"She didn't. She became someone else."
And then, Liora turned to her mother—really seeing her for the first time.
"You weren't always Sienna."
Sienna swallowed hard.
