I do not answer the outside message.
Not yet.
Because reacting to them first would mean letting them set the tempo, and I am done moving to rhythms that are not mine, so instead I answer the system before I answer the threat.
I wake before dawn without an alarm, my eyes opening to the pale grey wash of early light that filters through the curtains, and I lie there for a moment listening to the steady hum of the bond and the distant, grounded heartbeat of the pack beneath it.
No urgency.
No alarms.
Just pressure waiting for direction.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk into the bathroom, turning on the shower hotter than usual, because heat forces clarity and steam erases the edges of overthinking, and I stand under the water long enough for my muscles to loosen and my
