Page 11 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 10

Frankie

Three AM. The witching hour. I’ve always been strongest when the rest of the world sleeps, but tonight my shadows feel... different. They reach for Finn’s unconscious form, merging with the light that radiates from him even in sleep. Like puzzle pieces finally finding their match after years of being forced into wrong spaces.

The medical wing hums with machinery and magic. My shadow wolves pace restlessly, their ethereal forms casting no reflection in the equipment. One keeps nudging my hand, trying to get me to rest.

“I’m fine,” I tell it, getting an unmistakably judgmental look in return.

“You said that three hours ago,” Matteo says from the doorway, his new fangs catching the dim light. He’s been switching guard positions with Bishop every two hours, though neither will admit to coordinating it.

“And two hours before that,” Leo adds, appearing behind him with what looks like an entire bakery’s worth of cookies. “But these are medicinal chocolate chip. Guaranteed to cure all ailments, including stubborn-sister-itis.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Tell that to Luna. She’s writing up a legal brief about enforced rest periods for shadow shifters.”

Before I can argue that I don’t need rest periods, Bishop appears with a stack of papers, his new oath marks glowing faintly. “Emergency Council meeting in an hour. They’re discussing the void breach in the east wing.” He eyes the cookie mountain. “Are those the ones with dark chocolate?”

“Made a special batch just for you, Mr. Grumpy Guardian.”

“I am not—” Bishop starts, then sighs as Leo shoves a cookie into his mouth.

“If we’re having an impromptu midnight snack party,” Dorian’s precise voice carries from the hall, “I should point out that the library’s protection wards need adjusting. Also, this book on Nyx’s involvement in realm stability might be relevant.” He appears in the doorway, perfectly pressed despite the hour, holding an ancient tome. “Not that I was researching specifically for you. It simply happened to be in my organizational path.”

“At three AM?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Time is a construct.” He sniffs, then adds almost reluctantly, “There are also some interesting passages about twin bonds and healing resonance. Purely academic interest, of course.”

“Of course,” I echo, fighting a smile as my wolf abandons its post to nose at the book.

A shadow wolf finally gives up its pacing to flop across my lap like an overgrown puppy, while another accepts cookies from Leo with surprising delicacy. Even my most vigilant wolf, the one guarding Finn’s bedside, keeps sneaking glances at Dorian’s book.

“Traitors, all of you,” I mutter, but scratch behind ethereal ears anyway.

“Your wolves have excellent taste,” Dorian says, carefully stepping over Leo, who has sprawled across the floor with his own stack of research. “Though their organizational system leaves much to be desired.”

“Not everything needs color-coding.”

“Debatable.” He sets the book down with precise movements. “Though these passages about Nyx suggest?—”

The medical equipment suddenly shrieks as Finn’s light flares. My wolves snap to attention, surrounding his bed as memories crash through our bond—cold rooms, endless tests, needles filled with stolen shadows. His light pulses erratically, making the machines spark.

The experiments. Blackwood had separated us—Valerie’s father. He injected Finn with shadow essence, while Valerie injected me with light essence. Finn never took to the shadows like I did to the light. His light keeps rejecting the darkness, fighting against it rather than merging. I can feel his struggle through our bond—a constant, exhausting battle.

“Hey.” Tori appears in the doorway, still in her scrubs. She takes in the scene—my hovering wolves, the guys’ badly hidden concern, the mountain of stress-baked cookies—and sighs. “When I said get help, I didn’t mean summon the entire pack for a midnight snack crisis.”

“I brought research,” Dorian protests.

“You brought an excuse to check on her,” Tori corrects, then softens as she looks at Finn. His light dims slightly at her presence, settling into a steadier rhythm. “Though since you’re all here, someone should tell Dr. Sharma that her patient’s vital signs are all over the place.”

“Already texted my mother,” Matteo says, his fangs appearing briefly as Finn’s monitors spike again. “She’s bringing more healing incense.”

“And I’ve got those Council reports about twin power stabilization,” Bishop adds, producing another stack of papers from somewhere in his formal robes.

“Great.” Tori rolls her eyes. “Research, cookies, and overprotective pack energy. Just what the doctor ordered.”

“The cookies are medicinal,” Leo insists from his floor sprawl. “Tell them, Frankie.”

“I’m not getting involved in your baking justifications.”

“But they’re made with love! And expensive chocolate that I definitely didn’t steal from Dorian’s private stash.”

“You what?” Dorian’s perfect posture actually slips.

“Would this be a bad time to mention I reorganized your color-coding system?” Leo grins up at him. “The sunshine yellow section needed expanding.”

Before Dorian can have an organizational crisis, Finn stirs. His eyes—like violet amethyst—flutter open, immediately finding me. But this time, his gaze also tracks to the others, taking in the chaos they’ve brought to the sterile room.

“Sister,” he breathes, reaching out. “Your pack is... loud.”

“Loud is an understatement,” I say, taking his hand. Power explodes through the room as shadow and light merge, but this time it feels... steadier. Like our powers are learning each other’s rhythms. “Meet the chaos squad.”

“Hey!” Leo protests from his cookie fort. “We prefer organized mayhem specialists.”

“There is nothing organized about you,” Dorian mutters, but his perfect posture relaxes slightly as Finn’s light stabilizes. One of my wolves nudges his hand until he absently starts petting it.

“The one drowning in cookies is Leo,” I tell Finn. “Professional sunshine dispenser and apparently now a stress baker.”

“The cookies have healing properties,” Leo insists. “Try one. They’re made with stolen expensive chocolate and approximately six hours of worry.”

Finn accepts a cookie with tentative wonder, like he’s never been offered something just because. His light pulses with simple joy at the taste, making my shadows dance in response.

“The walking arsenal of fangs by the door is Matteo,” I continue. “Don’t let the growling fool you. He’s basically a guard dog with excellent fashion sense.”

“I do not growl,” Matteo protests, then actually growls as an orderly walks past too quickly. His fangs catch the light, but Finn just looks curious rather than afraid.

“The one buried in papers is Bishop. Former professor, current Guardian rebel, surprisingly good at PowerPoint presentations.”

“Comprehensive visual guides,” Bishop corrects automatically, but his new oath marks pulse warmly. “Though the PowerPoint format does have certain organizational advantages?—”

“Please don’t encourage him,” Tori groans. “The last presentation had forty-seven slides about proper shadow etiquette.”

“Forty-eight,” Dorian says. “The appendix about correct ritualistic posture was vital.”

“And that’s Dorian,” I finish. “Immortal librarian with a color-coding obsession and definitely not secretly caring about all of us.”

“I simply maintain appropriate academic interest in unique metaphysical phenomena,” Dorian sniffs, but his temporal energy reaches tentatively toward Finn’s light like he can’t quite help himself.

“And you’re Tori,” Finn says softly, his attention shifting to where she tries to fade into the background. His light reaches for her shadow, gentle but insistent. “The one who reads to me when I’m sleeping.”

Tori flushes deep red. “I—that was just—I mean—someone had to make sure you didn’t miss any coursework and?—”

“Pride and Prejudice isn’t exactly required reading,” I point out, earning a glare.

“The classics are important for cultural context!”

“You read him the part about Mr. Darcy in the lake three times.”

“It’s a pivotal scene!”

Finn’s laugh is weak but genuine, his light dancing with amusement. “I liked the lake scene.”

Tori somehow blushes harder as her shadow reaches back toward his light. Through our twin bond, I feel his happiness at her reaction, pure and bright as sunrise.

The moment breaks as void energy pulses against the windows. My wolves tense, Matteo’s fangs descend, and Bishop’s oath marks flare. But before anyone can move, Finn’s light and my shadows merge instinctively, creating a barrier that makes the void recoil.

“Fascinating,” Dorian breathes, already scribbling notes. “The harmonic resonance between twin powers appears to naturally stabilize reality fractures. Perhaps if we could measure the frequency patterns?—”

“Dorian,” Leo interrupts gently. “Maybe save the science for when they’re not actively protecting us from void collapse?”

“The frequency measurements are vital for—” He stops as one of my wolves gives him the most judgmental look I’ve ever seen on an ethereal face. “Though I suppose they could wait until morning.”

“Speaking of morning,” Tori says pointedly, “someone needs actual rest. Not this power-napping while pretending to be alert thing.”

“I am alert,” I protest, then ruin it by yawing.

“Sure you are,” she says dryly. “Almost as alert as Leo during 8 AM classes.”

“Leo doesn’t take 8 AM classes.”

“Exactly my point.”

“Tori.” My voice stops her as she tries to slip away. “It’s okay, you know. What you’re feeling. The way your shadow reaches for him.”

She flushes deep red. “I don’t—I mean—he’s your brother! And I’m not—we barely—it’s not like?—”

“Now who sounds like Bishop in faculty meetings?” Leo grins, dodging the pen she throws at him. “Though he usually includes more references to proper shadow protocol.”

“The protocols exist for a reason,” Bishop mutters, but his eyes track between Tori’s nervous shadow and Finn’s welcoming light with tactical assessment.

“Some bonds strengthen others,” I say softly, remembering how my own pack formed—one connection leading naturally to another until we created something beautiful. “If we let them.”

“Besides,” Leo adds, “anyone who can quote Pride and Prejudice while fighting void corruption gets automatic pack approval. Right, Dorian?”

“I neither approve nor disapprove of potential emotional entanglements,” Dorian says primly. “Though I suppose her organizational skills are... adequate.”

From Dorian, that’s practically a marriage blessing.

“You’re being suspiciously supportive about this,” Tori narrows her eyes at me. “Usually you threaten anyone who looks at your family wrong.”

“That’s what Matteo’s for now,” I say, earning a fanged grin from my guard dog.

“Maybe you’re growing as a person,” Leo suggests.

“Let’s not get crazy.” But my wolf has already settled beside Tori’s chair, accepting her as pack in a way I never expected.

“Rest, Frankie,” Tori says, her voice gentler than I’ve ever heard it. Her shadow curls toward Finn like it’s found its home. “I’ve got this watch.”

“We all do,” Matteo adds, his protective stance softening slightly.

“Though some of us have Council meetings to prepare for,” Bishop reminds us, gathering his papers.

“And temporal anomalies to document,” Dorian adds, though he makes no move to actually leave.

“And cookies to distribute!” Leo produces yet another batch from somewhere. “The medicinal effects are time-sensitive, you know.”

Finn’s light pulses with quiet joy at their chaos. Through our bond, I feel his contentment, his tentative hope. And something else—a warm flutter when he looks at Tori that makes me want to simultaneously protect him and let him find his own path.

“Go,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I’m not going anywhere. And...” his eyes flick to Tori, who’s trying to pretend she’s not watching him, “I won’t be alone.”

I stand on shaky legs, letting my shadow wolves fade—all except one, who plants itself firmly between Finn’s bed and the door. Some protective instincts run too deep to ignore completely.

“The wolf stays,” I tell Tori, who’s already pulling out what looks suspiciously like another Jane Austen novel.

“Of course it does.” She settles into my vacated chair, her shadow reaching for Finn’s light like a flower turning toward the sun. His answering pulse of power feels like a smile.

“And we’ll be right outside,” Matteo adds, his fangs glinting.

“With more cookies,” Leo promises.

“And proper documentation,” Bishop and Dorian say in unison, then glare at each other.

Through the twin bond, I feel Finn’s quiet joy. Through my heart, I feel something finally settling into place.

Family, in all its forms.

Time to rest and let it grow.

Even if my wolf is totally going to report back everything that happens while I’m gone.

Hey, I said I was growing, not completely reformed.

Baby steps.