Omrum's POV
The training grounds behind the castle were deserted, bathed in the silver, unforgiving light of the late-night moon. It was the only time I felt truly at peace, when the world was quiet, and the only noise was the ragged, rhythmic sound of my own breathing.
For weeks, I had treated the power inside me like a volatile explosive, something to be kept under lock and key, something that threatened to tear me apart if I gave it too much leash. I had feared the darkness. I had feared the voice that lived in the echo of my skull, clawing at my thoughts and demanding I lash out at the world that had cast me aside.
But tonight, the air felt different. It felt heavy, electric, and waiting.
I stood in the center of the training ring, my feet planted firmly in the dirt. I closed my ey
