On Sunday morning, I am acutely aware of two things.
The first is that I can take the wretched sling off. Given how much I have cursed at it, I do not think it will miss me.
This means I can shift again, which means I can get back to patrol and also get back in the gym.
Properly, anyway.
Owen had looked ready to berate me that first morning after the dislocation, until I assured him I would only be training legs. Given how rarely any male Lycan says this, he was sceptical.
But I had proved him wrong.
The second thing is the undeniable increase in my senses.
It is not just scent or hearing, although both are sharper than they were even yesterday. My awareness has widened. Every movement in the corridor beyond our door registers somewhere beneath my skin. Every voice carries too clear
