Page 31 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 30

Frankie

I feel Bishop’s turmoil through our bond before he enters the pack house. His usually controlled energy roils with barely contained fury, making my shadows writhe beneath my skin. Next to me, Finn tenses, our twin bond amplifying the sense of approaching danger. His light flickers anxiously against my darkness.

“Something’s wrong.” Matteo moves closer, his new fangs flashing in the dim light. Through our recently sealed bond, his protective instincts pulse stronger than ever, his shadows reaching instinctively for mine.

“When isn’t something wrong?” Leo attempts his usual lighthearted tone, but I catch how his hand seeks Matteo’s, how his shadows curl with lingering weakness from the corruption. The purple traces may be gone, but the experience has left its mark.

The front door opens with that precise click that’s uniquely Bishop—even in crisis, he maintains perfect control over small details. But when he enters, his Guardian marks pulse with an intensity that makes my wolves stir beneath my skin, responding to the raw power bleeding through his usually impeccable composure.

“They want to sacrifice you.” He looks directly at me and Finn, no preamble, no careful explanations. Just brutal truth crackling with suppressed rage. “The Council has given us twenty-four hours to... to say goodbye.”

The room erupts in reaction. Matteo’s snarl mingles with Leo’s sharp inhale. Dorian’s frost spreads across windows while Tori’s shadows writhe with unexpected fury. My wolves materialize without conscious thought, responding to the pack’s collective distress.

But Finn and I? We stay quiet, our twin bond humming with shared understanding.

Because deep down, we’ve always known it might come to this.

“Like hell,” Matteo growls, his arms tightening around me as his shadows rise defensively. “They can’t just?—”

“They can,” I say softly, making everyone fall silent. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s grim acceptance mirror my own. “They have before. Haven’t they, Bishop?”

He nods, something like grief darkening his Guardian marks. “My father... he tried to stop them last time. With another set of twins. It’s why they killed him.”

The revelation settles over us like a shroud. It should probably shock me more. Should probably make me angry or scared or something other than this strange calm acceptance. But all I feel is tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of watching people die to protect us.

My wolves pace restlessly, feeding off the pack’s mounting tension. Through our various bonds, I feel their emotions crash against mine—Matteo’s protective rage, Leo’s desperate denial, Dorian’s cold fury, Tori’s unexpected protectiveness toward Finn.

“Well,” Leo announces into the heavy silence, his voice carrying forced cheer though his shadows betray his fear, “guess we better make these twenty-four hours count then. Who’s up for breaking into the cafeteria?”

“Leo,” Bishop starts, exasperation warring with fondness as his marks pulse.

“No, hear me out.” Leo pushes himself up straighter, sunshine determination breaking through his shadows despite his lingering weakness. “If these might be our last hours together—which they won’t be, because we’re definitely going to figure something out—but IF they are, I refuse to spend them moping in the pack house. Let’s have one last family dinner. In that ridiculous cafeteria where I first watched Matteo nearly choke on his protein shake when Frankie walked in.”

“I did not choke—” Matteo starts automatically, though his shadows curl with remembered embarrassment.

“You absolutely did,” Leo cuts in, his lips twitching despite the darkness threading through our bonds. “Went completely silent mid-sentence and just stared.”

“Speaking of staring,” Bishop adds dryly, his Guardian marks settling slightly, “shall we discuss your tactical walking into doors whenever she passed by?”

“That was a calculated maneuver,” Leo insists, though his shadows dance with nervous energy. “Part of my master plan.”

I look at Finn, feeling his quiet longing pulse through our twin bond. His light flickers with a different kind of pain. “You never got to experience any of that, did you? The normal college stuff?”

“Never even been to a dance,” he admits softly. Beside him, Tori’s shadows reach automatically for his light, twining together in an unconscious display of comfort.

“That settles it.” Leo claps his hands decisively, though I catch how his fingers tremble slightly. “Family dinner in the abandoned cafeteria. Followed by dancing. No arguments.”

“Family dinner in an abandoned cafeteria that’s probably crawling with shadow beasts?” Dorian raises an eyebrow as frost patterns spread beneath his feet. “That seems ill-advised.”

“The main campus is still protected,” Bishop says, his tactical mind engaging despite his emotional turmoil. His Guardian marks pulse as he reaches out to check the wards. “My protections hold strongest around the central buildings. Including the cafeteria.”

I remember my first months at Shadow Locke, when I thought it was just a normal university. When the cafeteria was just a cafeteria, not another front in an eternal battle between realms. When Bishop was just my intimidatingly attractive professor, not a Guardian protecting ancient secrets.

“It’s strange,” I say quietly, making them all look at me. My shadows curl with remembered innocence. “I used to think that cafeteria was the most normal place on campus. Just students and bad coffee and Leo trying not to be obvious about watching Matteo during rugby team breakfasts.”

“I was very subtle,” Leo protests, his shadows flickering with attempted lightness.

“You knocked over an entire rack of trays,” Matteo reminds him, lips twitching. “Twice.”

“Tactical distraction,” Leo insists. “Very calculated.”

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn watching our exchange with that mixture of longing and amusement I’ve come to recognize. Everything that should have been normal—cafeteria drama, classroom crushes, awkward flirting—was stolen from him by Blackwood’s experiments.

“You know what?” I stand, decision made. My wolves materialize briefly before fading, responding to my resolve. “Leo’s right.”

“I am?” Leo blinks, shadows dancing. “I mean, of course I am. About what specifically?”

“About making these hours count.” I reach for Finn’s hand, feeling his light pulse with cautious hope. “About giving you at least one normal college experience before...” I trail off, but they all understand. Our bonds thrum with shared determination to make this moment matter.

“The cafeteria does have a decent sound system,” Tori offers, her shadows curling hopefully toward Finn’s light. “And plenty of space for dancing.”

The walk across campus feels surreal—our small group moving through abandoned spaces that should be teeming with students. The void’s corruption is visible at the edges of Shadow Locke’s borders, purple-tinged darkness eating away at reality. But Bishop’s wards shimmer with protective power, creating paths of relative safety between the shadows.

“Looks different at night,” Finn observes, taking in the gothic architecture. His light pulses with curiosity about this place that should have been part of his college experience too. Through our twin bond, I feel his mixture of wonder and regret.

“You should have seen it during finals week,” I tell him, letting my shadows dance with his light. “Students sleeping in every corner, mainlining coffee like it was oxygen.”

“The coffee cart guy,” Leo sighs nostalgically, his own shadows reaching playfully toward Matteo’s. “Remember him? Best cold brew on campus.”

“You mean the shadow shifter who was actually monitoring essence fluctuations under the guise of selling caffeine?” Bishop’s dry tone carries a hint of amusement. His Guardian marks pulse gently against the night. “Another detail you missed during your ‘normal’ college experience, Frankie.”

“Wait.” I stop walking, my wolves materializing briefly in surprise. “Jerry was a shadow shifter? The one who always gave me extra shots of espresso for free?”

“He was assessing your power levels,” Bishop explains, adjusting his perfect tie. “Though I suspect the free coffee was genuine appreciation for how you handled those fraternity boys who were harassing freshmen.”

“The ones who mysteriously tripped into the fountain?” Matteo’s fangs flash in a grin, his shadows curling with remembered satisfaction. “I may have helped with that.”

“We all did,” Leo admits cheerfully. “Though technically, I just provided dramatic commentary while Matteo did the actual intimidation.”

The cafeteria looms ahead—all glass and modern design that clashes beautifully with the campus’s older buildings. Through its windows, moonlight spills across empty tables and abandoned serving stations. My shadows stir restlessly, remembering countless meals here before I knew what I really was.

“The locks are warded,” Bishop starts, his Guardian marks pulsing as he reaches out to check the protections.

“Please,” Leo scoffs, shadows dancing around his fingers with familiar purpose. “I’ve been breaking in here for late-night snacks since freshman year.” At Bishop’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “What? I get hungry after rugby practice.”

“You know I had to file incident reports about those break-ins,” Bishop sighs, though his marks flicker with fond exasperation.

“You mean those very detailed reports that somehow always failed to identify the perpetrator despite multiple witnesses?” Leo grins. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.”

The doors click open under Leo’s touch, years of practice evident in his movements. The familiar scent of industrial cooking and artificial lemon cleaner washes over us as we enter. But now I can sense the layers of protection wards, the ancient magic woven into mundane spaces.

“Home sweet home,” Leo announces, spreading his arms wide as his shadows start crafting makeshift mood lighting. “Or at least, home of questionable meatloaf and truly epic crush-watching opportunities.”

“I still maintain I wasn’t that obvious,” Matteo mutters, though his shadows curl possessively around both Leo and me.

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s delight at these glimpses of normal college drama—even the supernatural kind. His light reaches unconsciously for Tori’s shadows as she moves closer to him.

“Well,” I say, watching Leo’s shadows already starting to craft makeshift mood lighting while my own wolves prowl the perimeter protectively, “should we see what’s left in the kitchen? Give Finn a true college dining experience?”

“Absolutely not,” Matteo declares, his shadows already reaching for the industrial kitchen space. “I’m cooking. I refuse to let anyone’s potential last meal be expired cafeteria food.”

“My hero,” Leo clutches his chest dramatically, though his shadows betray lingering weakness from the corruption. “Saving us from food poisoning one meal at a time.”

As they bicker about menu options and proper food safety, I catch Bishop watching us all with an expression I can’t quite read. His Guardian marks pulse with something between grief and determination.

“What?” I ask softly, letting my shadows reach for his.

“Just...” he adjusts his already perfect tie, a gesture I’ve come to recognize as emotional deflection. “Appreciating how you can make even an abandoned cafeteria feel like home.”

Through our bond, I feel his love, his fear, his fierce determination to protect us all. Feel everyone’s emotions mixing with my own—Matteo’s protective devotion, Leo’s bright affection, Dorian’s carefully hidden warmth, Finn’s growing sense of belonging, even Tori’s cautious hope.

“Well,” I say, watching Leo attempt to convince Dorian to help him string shadow-lights across the ceiling, “home isn’t really about the place, is it?”

Bishop’s hand finds mine, his Guardian marks pulsing gently against my skin. “No,” he agrees quietly. “It really isn’t.”

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s response to that truth—his wonder at finally finding what was stolen from him all those years ago. Not just a place, but people. Family. Pack.

And if the Council thinks they can take this from us...

Well, they clearly haven’t met our pack.

Matteo takes over the industrial kitchen with practiced ease, his shadows reaching for familiar tools while Leo perches on a counter, supposedly helping but mostly providing running commentary. Through our various bonds, I feel their comfortable rhythm—years of friendship turned to love evident in every interaction.

“Should we be concerned about food safety?” Dorian eyes the kitchen skeptically, frost patterns analyzing everything. “The power has been off for?—”

“The preservation wards still hold,” Bishop interrupts, Guardian marks pulsing as he checks the ancient protections. “And I believe Matteo brought supplies from the pack house.”

“Of course he did,” Leo grins. “My man comes prepared.”

“Someone has to keep you all fed,” Matteo mutters, but his shadows curl with pleasure at the praise.

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn watching everything with fascinated attention, absorbing these casual dynamics. His light pulses with wonder at how naturally everyone moves together, how even in crisis we find these pockets of normalcy.

“Here,” Tori says suddenly, pulling out her phone. Her shadows dance with nervous energy. “We need music. Real music, not whatever Leo’s about to suggest.”

“Excuse you,” Leo protests while his shadows dramatically swoon, “my playlist game is legendary.”

“Your playlist game is chaotic at best,” Dorian corrects, frost patterns tracing his disapproval. “Need I remind everyone of the dubstep incident?”

“That was one time?—”

“You traumatized an entire study group.”

Music fills the space before their bickering can escalate—something soft and indie that makes Tori’s shadows sway slightly. Her eyes meet Finn’s, and through our bond, I feel his light pulse with nervous anticipation.

“So,” Tori says, aiming for casual but missing by miles, her shadows reaching unconsciously for Finn’s light, “about that dance you never got to have...”

Finn’s answering smile could power the entire campus. He takes her offered hand with endearing uncertainty, letting her guide him to the cleared space between tables. Their combined power creates gentle patterns in the air around them.

“I don’t really know how,” he admits quietly, his light flickering with nervous energy.

“Good thing I do,” she replies, arranging his hands with careful confidence. Her shadows and his light twine together as she shows him basic steps, creating unconscious auroras above them.

“Well that’s disgustingly adorable,” Leo observes cheerfully from his counter perch. “Remember when we were that awkward, Teo?”

“You’re still that awkward,” Matteo responds without looking up from his cooking, though his shadows reach automatically for Leo’s. “You tripped over your own feet this morning.”

“That was because you distracted me with your general existence.”

Through our various bonds, I feel their joy in this moment—everyone finding small happinesses despite tomorrow’s looming threat. Even Bishop’s Guardian marks pulse more gently as he watches Finn and Tori dance, their powers creating unconscious light shows around them.

“They look good together,” I say softly, feeling Finn’s happiness echo through our twin bond.

Bishop’s hand finds mine, his touch steady despite the tension thrumming through his marks. “They do. Though perhaps we should demonstrate proper form? Since this is meant to be educational.”

I raise an eyebrow at his formal tone, but there’s mischief hiding beneath his perfect composure. “Are you asking me to dance, Professor Mercer?”

“I believe I am, Miss Vale.” He bows with exaggerated ceremony that makes Leo snort. “Assuming you can follow my comprehensive guide to traditional shadow realm dance steps.”

“Oh god,” Leo groans, his shadows dramatically flopping across the counter. “Please tell me you didn’t make a PowerPoint about dancing too.”

Bishop’s dignified silence speaks volumes, his Guardian marks flickering with what might be embarrassment.

“He did,” Tori confirms, still swaying with Finn. Their combined power creates patterns that dance across the ceiling. “Complete with animated diagrams and historical context.”

“It was very thorough,” I defend, letting Bishop pull me onto their makeshift dance floor. His marks pulse with warm amusement as he draws me close. My shadows automatically reach for his, remembering other dances, other moments.

“Everything about Bishop is very thorough,” Leo calls suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.

“Children,” Dorian sighs as frost patterns trace his exasperation, “some of us are trying to maintain academic dignity here.”

“In an abandoned cafeteria while hiding from the Council?” Leo grins. “Good luck with that.”

More music fills the space—something slower now, making Finn and Tori drift closer together. Their powers create a gentle aurora above them, shadow and light dancing in perfect harmony. Through our twin bond, I feel his contentment, his joy at having this one normal moment.

As Bishop guides me through more complex steps, I catch glimpses of the others—Leo finally abandoning his perch to drag Matteo away from the kitchen, Dorian pretending not to watch them all while his frost patterns trace the music’s rhythm.

For just a moment, I let myself forget about sacrifice and corruption and Council deadlines. Let myself exist in this space with my family, surrounded by their power and love. My wolves settle, content to watch as shadows and light dance around us.

Through our various bonds, I feel everyone’s emotions weave together: Matteo’s fierce protectiveness as he finally lets Leo pull him into a dance, Leo’s brightness trying to mask his lingering weakness, Dorian’s careful distance slowly thawing as he watches us all, Bishop’s love wrapped in determination to keep us safe.

And Finn... through our twin bond, I feel his pure joy at this moment. His light pulses in time with Tori’s shadows as she teaches him another step, both of them creating unconscious patterns in the air above them. This is what he should have had all along—normal college moments, awkward first dances, the chance to just be young.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Bishop murmurs, his Guardian marks pulsing gently against my skin. “You’re allowed to just enjoy this.”

“Even with everything hanging over us?”

“Especially then.” His shadows twine with mine as he guides me through another turn. “Sometimes the best defiance is simply living fully despite what’s coming.”

Through our pack bonds, I feel their agreement—each of them choosing this moment, choosing joy, choosing us. Even with tomorrow’s threat looming, even with the void pressing at the edges of campus, even with sacrifice hanging over us like a sword.

Tonight we dance.

Tonight we love.

Tonight we’re just us—young and alive and together.

Tomorrow will come soon enough with all its harsh choices and bitter truths. But here, now, in this abandoned cafeteria filled with shadow-light and frost patterns and the sound of Leo’s laughter...

Here, we’re home.