The morning after her encounter with the silver wolf, Lyla woke up with a start. Her heart still raced as though she were in the clearing, standing before the wolf’s glowing crescent. She pressed a hand to her chest, where a faint warmth lingered as if the power coursing through her in the dream had followed her into the waking world.

Throwing on a jacket, Lyla hurried outside. The sun was barely up, casting a golden haze over the forest. She hesitated at the tree line, her feet rooted to ...