Avyanne's pov

Logan didn’t believe in rest. To him, dawn was not a gentle beginning but a challenge and I was

his unwilling recruit.

The shrill whistle that pierced through my half-dreams was enough to wrench me upright. My

muscles screamed in protest; my arms were still bruised from yesterday’s combat drills, my

calves tight from endless sprints. But Logan stood in the doorway, unyielding, eyes sharp as

steel.

“Up.” His voice carried no room for argument.

I groaned and rolled out of ...