Moonlight spilled through the canopy in silver ribbons, catching on the fur of a dozen wolves arranged in a loose, watchful circle. They sat in silence, ears swiveling, waiting.

At the center stood an old stone altar, carved with spirals worn smooth by centuries of rain. A single candle flickered atop it, unsteady in the night breeze.

Alison's jaw tightened. Still, she did not move.