Page 15 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 14

Frankie

The training grounds shimmer with layered protections—Bishop’s Guardian symbols intertwined with Dorian’s temporal barriers and Matteo’s shadow shields. Three days since the last power surge nearly collapsed the medical wing, and no one takes chances with twin training anymore. Not after feeling the void’s hungry response to our combined power.

“You’re hovering,” Tori says, adjusting Finn’s stance with careful hands. Her shadows curl protectively around his light in a way she probably thinks is subtle. “He’s fine. The stabilization took hold three days ago.”

Through our twin bond, I feel how her presence speeds his healing, though neither seems ready to acknowledge that connection.

“I don’t hover,” I protest, even as my shadow wolves circle them both. One particularly protective wolf keeps nudging Finn’s elbow into proper position.

“You absolutely hover.” Finn’s smile carries more strength than I’ve seen since finding him. His light pulses steadily now, no longer fighting the shadows inside him. “Though not as much as your pack. I counted four ‘casual’ check-ins from Leo this morning alone.”

“He brought muffins,” Tori adds, her hands lingering on Finn’s shoulders. “And coffee. And enough energy drinks to give an army insomnia.”

“Which she confiscated,” Finn says with a knowing look. “For my health.”

“Obviously.”

Their easy rapport should probably concern me more, but through our twin bond, I feel how Finn’s light brightens around her. How her shadows seem to ground his power in ways mine can’t. Like they’re creating their own kind of balance.

“Ready?” I ask, pushing aside thoughts of potential pack complications. One crisis at a time.

Finn nods, violet eyes reflecting my determination. His gaze flicks briefly to Tori as she moves behind the protective barriers, his light reaching unconsciously for her shadows before focusing on the task at hand. “Show me how to call them.”

My shadow wolves materialize first, their ethereal forms circling us with predatory grace. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn studying the power pattern, catching how his light instinctively seeks balance. A reminder of how much he’s missed, how much was stolen from us.

Then—

Light erupts from his hands, coalescing into foxes made of pure radiance. They emerge with clever eyes and starlight-tipped tails, dancing between my wolves with playful grace. Shadow and light circle each other, neither threatening nor merging, simply... acknowledging their shared nature.

“Well that’s new,” Leo comments from his guard position. His sisters Lyra and Liliana watch wide-eyed from behind the barriers, their own newly awakened shadow marks spiraling in response. Lyra’s violin strings hum with unconscious power, creating harmonies that make our creatures dance, while Liliana’s shadows reach tentatively toward Finn’s light foxes, testing their emerging abilities.

“The resonance patterns are fascinating,” Dorian mutters, scribbling in his ever-present notebook. “The harmonic convergence of opposing forces suggests?—”

“Incoming,” Matteo interrupts sharply, his fangs flashing as he shifts closer to me. Through our growing bond, I feel his protective instincts surge.

Power builds between Finn and me as memory hits like a physical blow. Through our twin bond, something stirs—recognition. The shadow beasts prowling outside feel... familiar. Like echoes of screams we used to hear through asylum walls. Children who went into Valerie’s labs but never came out quite human.

The world tilts as the past crashes in:

Blackwood’s lab, sterile and cold. Metal tables gleaming under harsh lights. The taste of fear metallic on my tongue.

Bishop’s newly sealed bond pulses through me, giving me strength, but the memory takes hold anyway.

I stumble, but the pack bonds catch me—stronger now since claiming Bishop and Leo. Through them, I feel their fury at what was done to us, their protective instincts roaring. Tori’s shadows reach for Finn instinctively as he steadies himself against our shared pain.

“Frankie.” Finn’s voice pulls me back, his hand finding mine. “Look.”

Our wolves and foxes have merged, creating creatures that shouldn’t exist—ethereal beings with wolf-like power and fox-like grace. Their forms shift between shadow and light, leaving trails of starlight and darkness. Shadow wolves with foxfire eyes, light foxes with shadow-tipped tails. Like us, they’re neither one thing nor the other, but something entirely new.

“The old asylum,” I breathe as another memory surfaces. “That’s where she is. That’s where she took us first. Locke Manor.”

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s memories align with mine. The long hallway stretches before us in shared memory, shadows writhing unnaturally against sterile walls.

Valerie stands at the top of the steps, her smile radiant with terrible purpose.

“Frankie, are you listening to me?” Her voice cuts through the years, sharp as a blade.

I remember trying to memorize everything on those rare trips outside my cell. But this time was different. This time she wanted to show me something.

“What’s down there?” My voice echoes with past fear.

Valerie’s smile widens, predatory and proud. “That, my dear, is where the real work begins. Where we’ll unlock your true potential.”

The memory shifts—a heavy metal door etched with pulsing blue symbols. The scent of antiseptic barely masking something worse. Valerie’s hand on my shoulder, deceptively gentle.

“Come,” she commands. “It’s time you met the others.”

“Where are we?” Keep her talking. Always keep her talking.

“Locke Manor, silly goose.” Her girlish giggle bounces off cold walls as she skips down the hall, each step precise despite her apparent whimsy.

Fear crawls up my spine now just as it did then. When Valerie was excited, terror was the only sane response.

The memory fades, but the emotions linger—fear, anxiety, horror. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn trembling with similar memories. One of his foxes breaks away to curl around Tori’s feet, seeking comfort. Her shadows automatically wrap around it, protective and sure.

“Are you sure?” Bishop moves closer, Guardian marks blazing. Since our bonding, his protective instincts have only grown stronger.

“I’m positive.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips, muscle memory from days of dehydration. Beside me, Finn moves with growing strength, his movements still careful but steady. Tori’s presence seems to ground him, her shadows unconsciously supporting his light whenever he pushes too hard. He’s not fully recovered, but he’s strong enough to fight. “We can use the memories to track her.”

“Frankie, using these memories to track her—” Bishop pauses, concern pulsing through our bond.

“Will hurt,” I finish. “I know. But she has answers we need.”

“About Mother,” Finn adds softly. A light fox nudges his hand as our twin bond pulses with shared purpose. Through his touch, I feel echoes of other memories—Mother’s hands glowing as she worked complex shadow magic, Blackwood watching through observation windows, Valerie’s voice echoing: “The perfect vessels... light and shadow bound in mortal form...”

“No.” Matteo’s voice carries pure alpha energy despite being my beta, his fangs flashing. “It’s too dangerous. The trauma could?—”

“Could show us exactly what we need to know,” I cut him off. “Teo, I love that you want to protect us. But some battles we have to choose.”

“She’s right,” Dr. Sharma says from her monitoring station. Her knowing eyes track between Finn and Tori before settling on me. “Sometimes healing requires facing the wound’s source. And sometimes... new bonds can make us stronger for the fight.”

Leo steps forward, his sunshine presence wrapping around us all. “Then we face it together. Pack and family.” His grin turns mischievous. “And maybe future pack?”

“Leo,” I warn, but I can’t help noticing how Finn’s light brightens at the suggestion, or how Tori’s shadows reach unconsciously toward him.

The wolves and foxes howl—all of them, shadow and light and something in between. But another howl answers—corrupted and wrong, yet carrying traces of something human. The shadow beasts outside recognize us, like remembering what they once were. In their voices, I hear an echo of our father’s distant roar, but also the cries of other children from Valerie’s labs.

“Got it,” Dorian announces, though his eyes linger on the way Tori’s shadows seem drawn to Finn’s light. “The resonance pattern in their merged power—it’s creating a beacon. Like a supernatural GPS pointing straight to?—”

“The asylum’s sub-basement,” Finn finishes grimly. “Where she kept the failed experiments.”

Failed experiments. Children like us who didn’t survive her quest for power. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s memories of hearing their cries, of reaching out with his light to comfort them in their final moments.

“She’s there,” I say, my voice steady despite the horror of the memories. “And she knows we’ll come.”

“Then she’s a fool.” Matteo moves to flank me, his protective energy wrapping around us all. “She forgot what family means.”

“What pack means,” Tori adds softly, then flushes when we all look at her.

Bishop nods, his Guardian marks blazing as he completes our circle. “The pack protects its own.”

“And family,” Lyra calls from behind her barrier, violin at ready. Her shadow marks pulse in time with our merged power. “Don’t forget family.”

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s resolve matching mine—and underneath, that flutter of something warmer when Tori’s shadows unconsciously reach for his light again.

“She made us,” he says quietly, standing straighter. “But she doesn’t own us.”

“No,” I agree, feeling pack and twin bonds pulse with shared strength. The sealed connections with my mates flow like rivers of power, preparing us for what’s coming. “We own ourselves.”

Some memories have teeth.

But we have something stronger.

We have each other—pack, family, and maybe something new forming between light and shadow.

And we’re done being afraid.

If they want their perfect vessels, they’ll have to face what they created first.