Laura's legs gave out. She hit the ground hard beside a large oak tree.

Blood soaked through her shirt. Her ribs screamed with every breath. The knife wound in her chest had torn open again during the fight.

But she was alive.

The shadow wolves lay dead around her. Black blood stained the grass. Her small knife was still clutched in her shaking hand.

"How?" she whispered, still dazed.

She should be dead. Those wolves were faster and stronger than her. But somehow, she'd fought them off.

Her body moved on its own during the fight. Like someone else was controlling her. Like she remembered things she'd never learned.

The...