Sienna's pulse hammered as the voice whispered again, curling around her like a silken noose.
"Wake up, little wolf."
The Shadeborn's voice. But layered beneath it was something else. Something familiar.
A second voice wove through the first, like two threads tangled in the same tapestry. It was softer, a murmur of wind through ancient trees. It was..
Mother.
The realization struck like a thunderclap, freezing the breath in her lungs. She hadn't heard that voice in years, not since..
"You fight it," the Shadeborn repeated, the mist thickening around her. But this time, Sienna listened. Beneath the mocking cadence, beneath the eerie calm, she heard the whisper again.
"Sienna… remember."
The mist coiled tighter, pressing against her ribs. The world darkened, her vision blurring but she clawed at the memory, at the phantom of that voice.
A face flashed in her mind's eye. Pale gold hair. A fierce gaze like storm-lit skies. A touch warm as summer rain.
Her mother.
