The trip to the altar was treacherous, the air thick with tension. The closer we got, the more the landscape seemed to shift, dark energy rippling through the forest like a living thing. I could feel the altar’s pull long before we saw it—an oppressive, suffocating presence that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

And then, just before we reached the clearing, they appeared.

Our pack members.

Wolves we had grown up with, fought beside, shared memories with—they stood before us now, their eyes glazed, movements mechanical. They were under the witch’s control, just like the others. My heart twisted painfully at the sight....