Avyanne's pov

The next morning bled into me like poison, every morning in Logan wing felt like jail which death

was better than.

I woke sore, every muscle in my body aching from the endless drills Logan had forced me

through the day before. I hadn’t even made it under the blanket properly just before I collapsed

on the mattress, half-dressed, too exhausted to care. My arms trembled as I pushed myself up,

and a groan escaped before I could swallow it.

The door creaked open.

“On your feet.” ...