Omrum's POV
Calhoun was standing opposite me, his arms loosely at his sides, his crimson eyes observing me with that unnerving, objective intensity. "You're thinking too much, Omrum. You’re trying to build a shape out of logic. The void doesn't have logic. It has hunger. You’re still trying to behave like a wolf. Let go of the need to be accepted."
"I am trying," I snapped, my voice sounding strained. "But it’s not that simple. Every time I pull on the darkness, I can still hear them. I can hear the pack. I can hear Tara’s laugh. I can hear the silence of the forest where I lost."
Calhoun’s expression darkened, his brow furrowing with a sudden, sharp edge of impatience. "Then let that anger burn you. If the memory of your pack is a poison, stop trying to dilute it. Drink it. Use the bit
