Omrum’s POV
"Insignificant pests."
The voice that tore from my throat did not belong to me. It was deep, scraping against my vocal cords like jagged rocks, echoing with a chilling, dual resonance that vibrated through the very trees.
I was a prisoner in my own skin.
Inside my mind, I was screaming, scratching at the walls of my own consciousness, trying to regain control of my hands. But I couldn't move a single muscle. An oppressive, suffocating darkness had flooded my veins, locking me out of my own body.
The gray rogue wolf I held by the throat began to thrash frantically.
The malicious arrogance in its glowing eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a pure, blinding terror. Its heavy paws clawed at my forearm, its sharp claws tearing into my skin, but my arm didn't even flinch. I
