Page 28 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 27

Frankie

Consciousness returns like drowning in reverse, fighting through layers of darkness. Each sensation arrives with a new wave of pain—muscles screaming from power overuse, essence burning from absorbing corruption, bond marks pulsing with shared agony.

Matteo’s presence anchors me first, his shadows wrapped around mine in protective coils. They feel different now, more aware of the corruption we absorbed, more desperate to shield us from what’s coming. Then Leo’s voice cuts through the haze, already joking despite nearly dying.

“...all I’m saying is, if almost being corrupted gets me this much attention, maybe I should try it more often. Though next time maybe with less purple veins of doom and more dramatic swooning.”

“I will end you myself,” Matteo growls, but his hand never stops stroking my hair. Through our bond, I feel his terror carefully masked behind irritation.

I try to open my eyes, but everything feels weighted with spent power. Through our various bonds, I sense the aftermath of what we did—Finn’s exhaustion matching mine like an echo in our twin bond, Leo’s essence still adjusting to being purified, his shadows trembling with remembered corruption. And Dorian...

The absence in our bonds hits like physical pain.

“He’s gone?” The words scrape my throat raw, triggering a coughing fit that has Matteo instantly supporting me upright. His shadows pulse with concern as they wrap tighter around us both.

“Ran out of here like his Oxford shoes were on fire,” Leo confirms, though concern threads through his attempted humor. “Right after you two did your whole corruption-eating light show. Which, by the way, was terrifying and awesome and please never do it again.”

“He realized something.” Finn’s voice comes from nearby, weighted with the same bone-deep exhaustion I feel. Through our twin bond, I sense him fighting to stay conscious. “Right before he ran. Something about the void...”

Memory slams back with enough force to make me gasp—the feeling of corruption fighting us, of Finn’s light merging with my shadows, of power we were never meant to contain burning through our veins. The way Leo’s corrupted essence tried to resist us, tried to spread, tried to claim us too. The moment we finally pulled it free, purified it, made it clean again.

“We can fight it,” I whisper, the realization settling like lead in my chest. “The void. The corruption. All of it.”

“Yeah,” Leo says softly, all pretense of humor gone. “We kind of figured that out when you literally ate the corruption trying to kill me.”

“That’s a very Leo way of putting it.” I try to sit up further, grateful for Matteo’s steady support. The room spins slightly, essence still churning from what we did. “We didn’t eat it, we?—”

“Absorbed and neutralized it through a complex process of essence conversion that probably breaks several laws of reality?”

We turn to find Dorian in the doorway, frost patterns unusually settled around him. He looks different somehow—younger, less controlled, like something fundamental has shifted in him. His temporal distortions ripple with an anxiety I’ve never seen before.

“So,” Leo drawls, though his shadows reach instinctively toward Dorian’s frost, “done having your dramatic exit moment?”

“I prefer to think of it as a strategic retreat for academic contemplation.” Dorian’s prim tone carries new self-awareness as he steps into the room. His eyes meet mine, carrying the weight of whatever revelation drove him to flee. “Also, I may have frozen several priceless texts while having an existential crisis.”

“Only several?” Matteo arches an eyebrow, his shadows dancing between protective and curious.

“The entire rare books section,” Dorian admits, frost spreading in delicate patterns across the floor. “Uncle Everette is making me defrost them by hand. He was particularly upset about the demon-skin bindings.”

Through our pack bond, I feel his anxiety and fear twisted with determination. Whatever sent him running has brought him back changed, his essence humming with purpose beneath the uncertainty.

“You figured something out,” I say, watching his frost dance with my shadows. The patterns they make remind me of the corruption we pulled from Leo, but cleaner, purer.

“Yes.” He moves closer, temporal distortions rippling around him. “What you and Finn did... it’s not just about healing corruption. It’s about stabilizing reality itself. The void isn’t just darkness—it’s everything breaking down. Time, essence, the barriers between realms...”

“And we can fix it?” Finn asks quietly. Through our twin bond, I feel his mix of hope and dread.

Dorian’s hands shake slightly, frost crackling around his fingers. “You can try. But the amount of corruption you’d have to absorb, the strain on your essence...” He swallows hard. “The void isn’t just growing. It’s accelerating.”

“Could kill us,” I finish, feeling Matteo’s shadows tighten protectively. The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.

“Multiple twins,” I breathe as another piece clicks into place, memories of research files flashing through my mind. “That’s why they separated them by gender. Valerie took the girls, Blackwood took the boys. They were trying to...”

“Mom’s research,” Finn adds, his light reaching instinctively for my shadows as understanding dawns. “All those notes about breeding programs, about quantity. The charts tracking essence compatibility?—”

“She knew one set wouldn’t be enough.” Nausea rises as the full horror of it hits me. “The void is too big, the corruption too widespread. They needed armies of twins. Pairs and pairs of us, all working together to...”

“So Valerie wasn’t just experimenting,” Leo says, voice hardening with each word. His shadows coil with rage. “She was trying to identify which twins could absorb corruption, breed them to make more. Like some kind of twisted shadow farm.”

“While eliminating the ones who couldn’t handle it.” Dorian’s frost spreads in sharp, angry patterns. “That’s why so many died or became corrupted. They were treating it like a eugenics program, trying to breed the perfect pairs.”

Through our various bonds, I feel their collective horror at the revelation. Matteo’s shadows writhe with protective fury, Leo’s essence pulses with remembered pain, and Dorian’s frost patterns fracture like broken glass.

“But Mother knew better.” The memories surface like bruises—her gentle hands during training, her soft songs in shadow-speak, her desperate need to keep us safe. “She knew you couldn’t breed for this. Couldn’t force it. The balance had to be...”

“Natural,” Finn whispers. “Like us. That’s why she protected us so fiercely. We weren’t just an experiment?—”

“You were proof,” Matteo growls, his alpha energy flooding our bonds. “Proof that their whole breeding program was wrong. That true balance can’t be manufactured. Can’t be forced.”

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s horror matching mine. How many pairs died in their attempts? How many were bred like cattle, trying to recreate what happened naturally with us? The weight of it settles in our shared essence like poison.

“But we’re not enough,” I say quietly, watching my shadows dance with Finn’s light. Even working together, our power barely contained Leo’s corruption. “Are we? Even together, we can’t absorb enough corruption to stop the void.”

“No,” Dorian confirms, frost patterns shifting anxiously across the walls. His temporal distortions ripple with barely contained fear. “Which means...”

“We need to find the others,” Finn finishes. “The twins who survived. The ones they’re still keeping. Mother’s research mentioned other facilities, other?—”

“Wait.” Leo pushes himself up despite his weakness, shadows trembling with effort. His eyes narrow with sudden understanding. “In all of Valerie’s files, in all of Blackwood’s research... in everything we’ve found so far... has anyone actually seen records of other surviving twins?”

The silence that follows weighs like death. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s realization mirror mine, horror building with each passing second.

“We’re it,” he whispers, light flickering with dawning truth. “Aren’t we? The only ones who survived. The only ones who could handle the corruption without breaking.”

Dorian’s frost spreads as he checks data on his phone, temporal distortions creating echoes of past moments. “Every other pair either died or became corrupted. Your mother’s notes... she wasn’t trying to create more twins. She was trying to figure out why you two were different. Why you were the only ones who could naturally balance shadow and light.”

“The only ones,” I repeat, the truth settling like lead in my stomach. Each word tastes like ash. “Which means...”

“It’s just us,” Finn says, his voice hollow. “Against the entire void.”

Through our pack bonds, horror ripples at the implications. Matteo’s shadows curl tighter around me, protective even though we all know what this means. I feel Leo’s essence reach for us both, trying to deny what we all know is coming.

“You’ll die,” Matteo says flatly, his shadows coiling with barely contained rage. “Trying to absorb that much corruption... it would destroy you both. Tear your essence apart.”

“Or save everyone,” I counter softly. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s agreement—not eager, not noble, just certain.

“No.” Leo’s voice cracks, his shadows reaching for us desperately. “There has to be another way. We can’t just let you?—”

“Sacrifice ourselves?” Finn’s hollow laugh echoes with remembered pain. “Isn’t that what we were made for? Why Mother protected us for so long? Why she trained us separately, kept us hidden, made sure we’d be strong enough to?—”

“She protected you because she loved you,” Dorian cuts in sharply, frost crackling with intensity. “Not to turn you into martyrs. Her research was about keeping you safe, not preparing you for sacrifice.”

But through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s resignation matching mine. Feel him understand what we have to do. What we’ve always been meant to do.

“So that’s it?” Leo demands, pushing himself up further despite Matteo’s warning growl. His shadows lash out with fear disguised as anger. “You two just decide to sacrifice yourselves and we’re supposed to what... watch? Let you die?”

Through our pack bonds, their fear and fury pulse like a living thing. I feel Matteo’s desperate need to protect, Leo’s terror of losing more family, Dorian’s temporal essence fracturing with possibilities.

But through my twin bond with Finn, I feel something else.

Peace.

Not because we want to die. Not because we’re embracing sacrifice. Not even because we think it’s right.

But because for the first time since we were separated as infants, we understand exactly what we were meant to be.

“We were wrong before,” I say quietly, reaching for Finn’s hand. Our essence mingles where we touch—shadow and light finding perfect balance. “Mother wasn’t trying to create more twins. She was trying to keep us alive long enough to make this choice ourselves.”

“The choice has to be ours,” Finn agrees, his light melding with my shadows in swirling patterns. “Not forced by Valerie. Not bred by Blackwood. Not even guided by Mother.”

“Chosen,” I finish. “Freely. Knowingly. With full understanding of what it means.”

Matteo’s shadows writhe with protest, reaching for me with desperate intensity. Dorian’s frost spreads across the walls in fractured patterns of denial. And Leo... Leo just watches us with eyes that have already lost too much.

“You can’t ask us to accept this,” Matteo says, voice rough with emotion. His shadows wrap around me like he could keep me safe through sheer will. “You can’t ask us to watch you die.”

“We’re not asking for acceptance,” Finn says gently. “Or permission.”

“We’re asking for help,” I add, feeling our twin bond pulse stronger with shared purpose. “Because we can’t do this alone.”

“And if we refuse?” Leo’s question carries the weight of potential loss.

I meet his gaze steadily. “Then we’ll do it anyway. And probably fail.”

“And die faster,” Finn adds with grim humor.

Silence falls as our words sink in. Through pack bonds, I feel their struggle—the war between protecting us and supporting us. Between love and duty. Between what they want and what must be.

Finally, Matteo speaks, his voice carrying alpha authority tinged with resignation: “Then we do it together. All of us. No matter what it costs.”

Our bonds pulse with shared determination—not acceptance of sacrifice, but commitment to choice. To facing whatever comes as one.

The void may be waiting.

The corruption may be spreading.

The realms may be fracturing.

But we face it together.

As pack.

As family.

As one.