The moon rose higher.

The night was alive with the sound of wolves howling from every direction. Their voices blended into one long, wild song that bled into the trees. Cora stood in the center of the clearing, barefoot, trembling, her wrists bound in leather. The ropes stretched above her, tied to the thick branch of an ancient tree, forcing her arms high over her head. Her back arched. Her legs were spread wide and tied to stakes driven deep into the earth.

She could feel the forest ...