Pain woke me.
Not the sharp, immediate pain of injury, but a deep, throbbing ache that radiated from my temples down through my neck. My mouth tasted like copper and ash. Wolfsbane. The suppressant was still in my system, keeping my wolf locked away, leaving me vulnerable and human.
I opened my eyes slowly, fighting the nausea that rolled through me.
The ceiling above me was old wood, water-stained and sagging. A single lantern cast flickering shadows across rough-hewn walls. The air smelled of dust and abandonment, with an underlying scent of mildew and decay.
I was lying on a bed, an actual bed, with sheets that smelled faintly of storage and disuse. Not tied up. Not restrained.
Somehow, that was more terrifying than if I'd woken up bound.
I turned my head carefully, and my heart s
