The floor of the ship's afterdeck bucked and reeled on the rolling ocean waves, the deck surging up and down beneath my feet. Gripping the railing, I tried to breathe in the fresh sea air, keeping my eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Cora appeared beside me with a bottle of water. "How's the nausea?"

"You'd think a ship this large couldn't be tossed around so easily," I chuckled, gingerly sipping the water. It was our fourth day at sea, and I'd barely made it through the second afternoon before the swells became so rough that I'd fallen ill. After my first bout of vomiting, I'd fled our stuffy cabin and come up on deck, which helped—but now I was afraid to take my eyes off the horizon, and God knows there wasn't any land in sight.

Cora laughed. "Babe, this tub's a drop in the bucket," she said, patting the side of the silver watercraft. "Besides, they warned us these seas were rough."

I groaned, taking another drink. "How much longer?"

Her face lit up. "I just came from the wheelhouse. The captain says we should sight the islands within the hour!"

That got my attention. I straightened immediately, trying to shake off my malaise. Adrenaline surged, combating some of the illness, and I found myself inspecting my clothing for wrinkles and stains. Maybe it was utter insanity, but if I was going to meet my mother today, I wanted to make a good impression, even if I was five months pregnant, sick to my stomach, and fleeing a war zone.

"Easy now, it'll be a few hours yet," Roger chided, coming to stand on my left. He leaned on the railing, mirroring Cora, who pointedly ignored him. "We'll have plenty of time to make ourselves presentable after we've docked."

That calmed me somewhat, but I wished Sinclair were here. I pulled out my phone and played a recording of his purrs, feeling some of my tense muscles unwind. My nerves had been frayed since we separated. On the one hand, this was expected—given the seriousness of our situation. However, something told me my anxiety was less about the wolf I'd left in Vanara and more about the woman I was headed to see. After all, I knew Sinclair loved me almost too much. I had no idea how my mother felt about me, and I'd been dreaming of her for as long as I could remember.

I looked at my sister. "So… do you hate me?" I asked, drawing her attention away from Roger.

Cora, who had been intensely glaring at Roger, slowly turned to me. Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we spent our whole lives wishing for parents," I sighed, searching my sister's face. "If the situation were reversed, I think I'd feel pretty jealous."

"I mean, I am," Cora shrugged, looking slightly abashed. She wrapped her arm around me and rested her head on my shoulder. "But I'm happier than I am jealous. I want this to be everything you've been hoping and waiting for, Ellie."

For a moment, we were alone. Roger and the sailors faded into the background; it was only Cora and me, looking out at the deep blue water. I snuggled into my sister's warmth, needing her affection as I contemplated the uncertainty ahead. I inhaled a shaky breath. "What if she doesn't like me?" I whispered.

Roger discreetly moved away as Cora pulled back in surprise. "Ella, what are you talking about? This woman prayed for you for years! She wanted a child more than anything and didn't even get to raise you. If anything, I expect she's going to like you too much."

I wasn't ashamed to admit I let this fantasy take hold. I pictured myself arriving at an ethereal temple by the coast, a beautiful woman in long robes running towards me with open arms. I imagined feeling her embrace… my mother's embrace… and I shuddered. "I'm afraid to hope," I admitted, gnawing on my lip. "It's so much easier with the war because, as horrible as things are, I've only been involved for a few months—not even a year, Cora!"

"I know," she nodded, rubbing my back. "And you've been hoping for parents for the better part of thirty years. It's much easier to believe in things you haven't already seen played out a hundred times before," she added, a harder edge to her usually soft voice.

I blinked away tears to study Cora's face, which remained drawn and serious. There was a profound sadness in her deep brown eyes, and I realized she was feeling as raw as I was. I might be vulnerable and on edge, but she seemed so despondent that I couldn't bear it. "I'm really rich now, you know," I said with a sly smile. Cora blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry, do you want me to hate you?"

"No!" I laughed, rolling my eyes. "I'm saying I could hire an investigator… if you want to find your family."

Cora's face brightened for a second, then fell. "No," she answered shortly. "I hate to say it, sis, but I think we've maxed out our miracles."

"You never know, just look at what happened with me," I encouraged, knowing I was walking a tightrope. I wanted to help my sister, but I didn't want to be cruel by giving her false hope.

"You also happen to be a she-wolf with the Goddess's own blood in your veins," Cora countered, a note of derision in her voice. "Somehow I doubt things will turn out so well for me."

"I'm sorry, Cora," I said sincerely. "I wasn't trying to rub your face in my good fortune."

"It's okay," Cora exhaled, her body softening as she hugged me. "I know you were only trying to help, but I came to terms with never knowing where I came from a long time ago. Being reminded… it only hurts." She had to bend over my swollen belly to properly embrace me, and her voice was full of warmth when she pulled back. "But Ella, your mother is going to love you so much. Just think, all those years you were waiting for her, not knowing if she was even out there… well, she was waiting for you too, probably counting down the days until she finally got to meet you, knowing you were out there but forced to stay away."

My heart swelled, and I clung to my sister, nuzzling her shoulder. "Maybe we can share her," I suggested. "If she's like me, then she probably wanted lots of babies. I bet she'd adopt you."

"Thank you," Cora laughed, "But we should probably wait and see what she's like before we make any offers."

I scoffed. "Hey, it's a good deal. Two awesome daughters for the price of one."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is she buying you now?" Cora teased. "With what money? She's been living in a wolf convent for the last five years."

"She was a queen," I responded, my eyes narrowed. "She probably has it stored away somewhere."

"Yeah, or she donated it like most people when they join a religious sect," Cora replied with amusement.

"Fine, she won't buy us!" I finally surrendered. "It was just an idea."

"A ridiculous idea," Cora laughed, and I squeezed her tighter.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies," Roger said, stepping closer. "But if you want to go to the bow, land has been sighted. The navigator confirmed it's the Altaran Islands."

Before he finished, Cora gripped my arm and pointed north, her face alight with excitement. "Ella, look!"

A group of islands appeared so suddenly on the horizon that I wondered if they'd been conjured from the sea. They were dark, jagged, and ominous, with black volcanic beaches and jagged peaks thrusting skyward, lined with spiraling cliffs. My heart raced as we approached; soon, the islands were no longer blurry shadows but solid, stark, and in high contrast to the endless ocean. And there, on the distant shore, stood three figures in long robes—waiting.

It seemed to take a lifetime for our ship to moor, and another to load into smaller boats to venture ashore. I recognized Reina as soon as I saw her, standing tall and proud between the priests. If I expected her to greet me with tears or laughter, I was wrong.

Instead, she looked at me with sharp, searching eyes. They traveled up my body, assessing me coolly before finally meeting my face. "You're too late."