The dream started like it always did. Quiet. Too quiet. A silver forest stretched in every direction, trees glowing like ghosts under moonlight. Mist curled around my ankles. The air smelled sharp, metallic, like cold steel and winter breath. I took one step forward and the ground shifted under me, soft and damp like moss soaked through with blood.
Something moved between the trees. A whisper of fur. The sound of claws dragging over stone. My wolf rose in my chest, ears high, tail stiff, ready for anything even though I wasn’t.
Then I saw them.
Wolves. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. Standing in a perfect circle around me. Their fur shimmered silver and shadow at the same time, like they were made of moonlight and rot fused together. Their eyes glowed so bright they hurt to look at. And
