The Unbearable ReliefThe first sound I registered was the camp bugle, sharp and insistent. It cut through the heavy silence of the tent and dragged me out of the deepest, cleanest sleep I had experienced in years.

I blinked, staring up at the dark canvas ceiling. I should have felt the pain. Every morning, the silver relic near my heart flared, a vicious, burning reminder of the day my parents died. The agony usually gripped me the second I woke, forcing me upright, forcing me to use the Lycan ...