We were awake before the sun.
Five in the morning arrived without mercy, the kind of hour that felt offensive even to werewolves. My body complained the second I swung my legs out of bed, muscles stiff and heavy from the day before. There was a dull ache threaded through my shoulders and down my spine, the kind that reminded you exactly how hard you’d been pushed. Around me, the others moved with quiet efficiency. Boots hit the floor. Jackets were dragged on. Someone muttered under their breath while brushing their teeth, but even that sounded more habitual than angry. No one groaned. No one stalled. No one asked for five more minutes.
That alone told me a lot about this place.
Within minutes, we were outside in the cold morning air. My breath fogged in front of me, each exhale sharp in
