The cabin came into view, and everything changed.
"Stop the car."
Fao's voice was sharp, commanding. I hit the brakes instinctively, the car skidding slightly on the gravel.
"What—"
"There." He pointed toward the porch.
In the dim glow of the porch light, a shape sat motionless in front of our door. For a moment, I thought it was a dog — a large dog, maybe a husky or a malamute.
Then it turned its head, and its eyes caught the headlights.
Yellow. Glowing. Wrong.
"That's a wolf," I breathed.
"Yes." Fao was already unbuckling his seatbelt, his body tense, his eyes flickering gold. "Stay in the car."
"Fao—"
"Stay in the car, Elowen." His voice dropped into something low and commanding — the voice he used when the wolf was close to the surface. "Lock the doors. Don't come out no mat
