Page 41 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 40

Frankie

Valerie waits at the heart of the void.

I sense her before I see her—her essence a twisted knot of corruption and desperate hunger that makes the void itself shiver. She stands among the frozen light shifters like a spider in her web, trailing corrupted fingers across their crystallized forms. With each touch, void-purple poison seeps deeper into reality’s foundations.

My father’s restored form tenses beside me, shadows rippling with ancient recognition. Through our various bonds, I feel the others’ reactions pierce the void: Finn’s light flickers with old fear, the pack’s distant fury burns like summer lightning, my wolves’ hackles rise as they remember asylum walls and children’s screams.

But something’s different now.

After absorbing my father’s burden, after understanding corruption’s true nature, I see her clearly for the first time. Where before she radiated power that made my shadows recoil, now I see the truth beneath her corruption. See the scared thing she’s become, consuming others’ essence because she never understood her own purpose. Each strand of her corrupted web pulses with desperate emptiness.

“I wondered when you’d finally come,” her voice carries that familiar false sweetness that once haunted my nightmares. Her form shifts as she turns, corruption flowing off her like oil on water. “My perfect vessel. My greatest creation.”

“I was never yours to create,” I say quietly, letting my transformed shadows rise. Through our pack bonds, I feel them respond—Matteo’s predator nature tensing, Leo’s sunshine trying to pierce the void, Bishop’s Guardian marks pulsing with protective fury, Dorian’s frost patterns searching for weaknesses. “None of us were.”

She laughs—that same laugh that echoed through asylum halls while children screamed. The sound makes the frozen light shifters’ forms vibrate with remembered pain. “Look at you, playing at power. Did you think absorbing a few shadow beasts would make you strong enough to face me? I’ve spent centuries perfecting corruption. Centuries learning its true purpose.”

“No,” I counter, moving closer. The frozen light shifters pulse with faint recognition as I pass, their crystallized forms humming with possibility. “You spent centuries running from yourself. Twisting others because you couldn’t bear to face your own emptiness.”

Her corruption surges outward, trying to fill the spaces between realities. Void-purple tendrils writhe through the air like hungry serpents, but now I see what she’s really doing—trying to devour everything so she won’t have to be anything. Each pulse of her power carries echoes of desperate loneliness.

“Such brave words,” Valerie’s form shifts as she moves among the frozen light shifters, trailing corruption that makes their crystallized essence crack and strain. “From the girl who used to beg so prettily. Who cried for mercy in my ballroom.” Her smile turns razor-sharp. “Shall we dance again, Frankie? For old times’ sake?”

The memories hit hard—Marcus’s hands bruising my arms, Sterling’s breath hot against my neck, endless nights of performed obedience. My wolves snarl, their forms bleeding shadow-smoke as they remember. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s light flare with protective rage. Through the pack bonds, I feel their distant fury ignite like summer storms.

But these memories hold no power over me now. I hold my wolves back, letting my transformed shadows rise instead. This isn’t about violence anymore. This is about something older. Something necessary.

“You know what I see when I look at you now?” I ask, letting my shadows reach toward her corruption. Each tendril carries understanding gained from my father’s burden. “I see every child you broke trying to fill your own brokenness. Every life you twisted because you couldn’t bear to be alone with yourself.”

Her careful smile cracks slightly, corruption writhing more frantically around her form. “You understand nothing. I am perfecting evolution itself. Creating vessels strong enough to-”

“To what?” I cut her off, taking another step closer. The void pulses around us, remembering its original purpose. “To carry the emptiness you couldn’t stand? To be the weapons you were too weak to become yourself?”

Corruption explodes from her in a wave that would have destroyed me hours ago. The void itself seems to recoil as her power lashes out, making the frozen light shifters’ forms shudder with remembered pain. But now, after absorbing my father’s ancient burden, after understanding corruption’s true nature, I see it for what it is—her desperate attempt to matter.

“I made you!” she screams, her careful composure finally shattering. Corruption bleeds from her form like acid rain, eating into the very fabric of reality. “Everything you are, every power you have—I created it all!”

“No,” I say softly, letting my transformed shadows absorb her wild attack. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn pause in his work with the light shifters, his essence reaching for mine in support. Through the pack bonds, I feel their distant presence like anchors to sanity. “You tried to break what was already perfect. Tried to corrupt what was meant to be balanced from the start.”

Valerie’s form wavers as she registers the change in me. For the first time in all our years of twisted history, I see genuine fear crack through her perfect mask. Her corruption whips more frantically around us, but can’t quite hide how her essence trembles.

“What have you become?” she whispers, backing away. Her heels click against crystallized light as she retreats through her web of corruption.

“I’ve become what I was always meant to be,” I say, following her step for step. My wolves pace beside me, their forms steady with new purpose. “What you tried so hard to corrupt. What all of us were meant to be before you twisted purpose into poison.”

She backs further away, her corruption writhing more desperately now. Behind her, I catch glimpses of Finn working among the frozen light shifters, his light a beacon of what we’re really fighting for. What we’re trying to restore.

“Stay back,” she snarls, but the command lacks her old power. Her voice cracks like ancient ice as understanding begins to seep through her defenses. “You have no idea what forces you’re playing with. The sacrifices I’ve made to-”

“To what? Control evolution?” My wolves circle closer, their shadows flowing with new certainty. Through our bond, I feel Finn’s light pulse with understanding of what must come next. “You never understood the difference between sacrifice and destruction. Between willing change and forced corruption.”

Her laugh turns hysterical, corruption spraying from her like broken glass. “And you think you do? The scared little girl I found in that foster home? The one who let me-”

“The one who survived you,” I cut her off, my transformed shadows reaching further. “The one who learned what real strength is. What real sacrifice means.”

Through our bond, I feel Finn’s progress—each frozen light shifter awakening to new possibility, their crystallized forms beginning to pulse with remembered purpose. Above us, through our pack bonds, I feel the shadow beasts being restored to their original nature. All around us, reality itself thrums with remembrance of what it was meant to be.

“You’re alone, Valerie,” I say softly, letting my shadows stroke her essence like she used to stroke my hair before the worst punishments. “You’ve always been alone. That’s why you had to break others—to make them as empty as you. But look around. Look what happens when we choose something better.”

She does look—at the void transforming from corruption to possibility, at my father’s restored form, at Finn’s work of awakening. For just a moment, her perfect mask cracks completely. Beneath her corruption, I glimpse the scared child she must have been before she learned to break others.

“Please,” she whispers, and for the first time in all the years I’ve known her, the word holds no manipulation. No false sweetness. Just raw desperation that makes my shadows ache with recognition. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“I know,” I tell her, letting my transformed shadows reach for her essence. Not to corrupt or destroy, but to finally see her completely. To understand. “That’s why this has to end.”

My shadows wrap around her form before she can retreat. Through our connection, I see all of her—every layer of corruption peeling back to reveal the truth beneath:

A young shadow shifter, desperate to matter.

Centuries of consuming others’ essence to fill her own emptiness.

The moment she discovered she could corrupt light itself.

Every child she broke trying to create something that could survive her.

Every experiment, every torture, every twisted attempt to force evolution.

“No,” she thrashes against my hold, her corruption flailing like broken wings. The void pulses around us, remembering its original purpose as her power starts to unravel. “You can’t- I won’t let you-”

“Shhh,” I whisper, the same way she used to whisper to me in the asylum. My shadows cradle her essence as it begins to come undone. “It’s time to rest now. Time to stop running.”

“I could have made you perfect,” she sobs, her careful composure completely shattered. Corruption bleeds from her like mercury tears, each drop carrying centuries of desperate loneliness. “Could have made you strong enough to-”

“To what? Carry your corruption? Bear your emptiness?” My shadows tighten as understanding flows between us. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn pause in his work, his light reaching to support my shadows. “I was already perfect. We all were. You just couldn’t bear to see it.”

Through our pack bonds, I feel them sense what’s coming—Matteo’s predator nature recognizing necessary endings, Leo’s sunshine offering grace even now, Bishop’s Guardian magic mapping the transformation, Dorian’s frost patterns analyzing what must be done.

“Please,” she tries one last time, but there’s no power left in her voice. No manipulation. Just the final plea of something that should have ended centuries ago.

“I forgive you,” I tell her softly, meaning it. “For all of it. Every moment of pain, every twisted experiment, every corruption. I forgive you.”

Her eyes widen in genuine shock, corruption momentarily stilling around her. “Why?”

“Because that’s what strength really is. What you never understood.” My shadows begin to pulse with transformed purpose, carrying echoes of what I learned from my father’s burden. “Real power isn’t about breaking others. It’s about choosing to remain whole despite being broken.”

“Frankie-” she starts, but I silence her with a gentle touch. The same way she used to silence me, but carrying healing instead of harm.

“Goodbye, Valerie,” I whisper. “May your next existence remember what shadows were truly meant to be.”

My shadows don’t tear or destroy. They simply... unmake. Like entropy remembering its first purpose, they unwind her essence thread by thread. Not with violence or vengeance, but with the quiet certainty of necessary endings. Each strand of her being dissolves into possibility rather than destruction.

Valerie doesn’t scream or beg. She just watches with something like wonder as her corruption dissolves into the void. As centuries of twisted purpose return to the space between moments not as poison, but as potential. The frozen light shifters around us pulse brighter, as if sensing the transformation of their ancient tormentor.

“Oh,” she breathes, her form beginning to fade like stars at dawn. “Is this what it was supposed to feel like? This... peace?”

The last of her essence unravels beneath my touch. Not destroyed, but returned to the space between moments where all things begin again. Where choice matters more than corruption. Where even the most twisted purpose can remember its original nature.

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s fierce pride, his light reaching to support my shadows through this necessary task. Through our pack bonds, I feel their distant understanding of what I’ve done—not killed, but released. Through my father’s restored presence, I feel ancient approval of balance maintained.

My wolves gather close as the void pulses with new purpose. Where Valerie stood, possibility spreads like ripples in still water. The frozen light shifters seem to shine brighter, remembering what they were meant to be.

“It’s done,” I whisper, though I’m not sure who I’m telling—my wolves, my brother, my pack, myself. “It’s finally done.”

No , my father’s voice cuts through the moment of peace. His restored form shifts with sudden urgency. Not yet. Your brother...

The twin bond pulses with warning—Finn’s light flickering like a distant star about to fade. In dealing with Valerie, I’d almost forgotten the true reason we entered the void. Horror hits as I feel how weak he’s become, how much of himself he’s given to wake the frozen light shifters.

“Finn,” his name tears from my throat as I spin toward where I last felt his presence. The void seems to twist around us, making distance meaningless. “Where-”

There , my father’s restored form shifts, ancient eyes fixing on a point deeper in the void where corruption runs like black rivers. The damage runs deepest there. Where the light shifters first attempted their sacrifice.

Through our bond, I feel Finn’s essence growing weaker—not just distant now, but fading. While I dealt with Valerie, he’s been working tirelessly to wake the frozen light shifters, pouring his own essence into their crystallized forms. The effort has drained him nearly dry.

We find him among the oldest sacrifices, his light barely visible as he tries to reach one more frozen soul. His foxes flicker like dying flames around him, their forms growing transparent as they lend him their last strength. The corruption here is older, deeper—the first poison that all others spawned from.

“Enough,” I say, catching him as he sways. His form feels fragile in my arms, light stuttering like a candle in wind. “I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

“Had to try,” he whispers, his voice faint but carrying that familiar scholarly determination. “They’ve been trapped so long. Waiting so long for someone to understand...”

My father’s massive form curls around us both, his restored shadows merging with mine to support Finn’s failing light. Through our twin bond, I feel his exhaustion, his determination, his desperate need to help those trapped between moments. Even now, with his own essence guttering, he reaches for another crystallized form.

“Together,” I tell him, letting my transformed shadows flow into him. Not to corrupt or consume, but to strengthen. To support. Like we should have been able to do since birth. “Like we were always meant to be.”

His light flares weakly as he meets my eyes, violet swirls dancing in depths that mirror my own. “The light shifters—they’re not just trapped. They’re waiting. For us. For what we can show them about willing sacrifice.”

Understanding hits like a physical blow. The crystallized forms around us pulse with ancient power—not just prisoners of their choice, but guardians waiting for a better way. This is what the prophecy meant—not about us sacrificing ourselves to the void, but about showing another way. About willing transformation rather than forced stasis.

“Father?” I look up at the Eredar’s ancient form, watching how his restored shadows flow like liquid starlight. “The corruption you carried, that I absorbed and transformed... can we use it? Show them how to change entropy into possibility?”

His massive head tilts as he considers, power rippling through spaces between moments. Yes. But the cost... His form shifts closer, protective instincts warring with understanding of what must be done. To transform barriers this ancient, this fundamental...

“Will be willingly paid,” Finn finishes, his voice stronger as he draws on our combined strength. His foxes’ forms stabilize slightly as they press against my wolves. “That’s the difference, isn’t it? Between what they did and what we can do?”

Around us, the frozen light shifters pulse with recognition. With hope. Their ancient power still feeds the barriers between realms, but now... now there’s another way. The void itself seems to hold its breath as possibility spreads like dawn through darkness.

Together then, my father’s voice resonates through spaces between moments. His massive form begins to shift, shadows flowing like liquid night until...

Until a man stands before us.

He’s tall, with features I recognize from my own reflection—the same sharp cheekbones, the same determined set to his jaw. His eyes still carry millennia of knowledge, but his smile... his smile is purely human as he reaches for both his children. Ancient power wrapped in mortal form, showing us what balance truly means.

“My son,” he says, voice rough with emotion as he touches Finn’s face. Shadows and light dance beneath his skin, perfect balance made manifest. “My daughter.” His other hand cups my cheek, centuries of loneliness transformed by love. “Let me show you what willing sacrifice truly means.”

Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s joy mirror my own. This isn’t the beast of shadow legend or the corrupted king of void-touched creatures. This is our father. Simply, perfectly our father. His restored power flows between us, showing us what true balance looks like.

“The barriers,” Finn says softly, his light strengthening as our father’s love flows through him. The frozen light shifters pulse brighter around us, responding to this new possibility. “They don’t need forced sacrifice to hold them. They just need...”

“Balance,” I finish, understanding blooming like stars in darkness. “Willing partnership between light and shadow. What Mom saw when she found you.”

Our father nods, pride shining in his ancient eyes. “What your mother tried to tell them. What she saw when she found me. What you two prove is possible.” His hands tighten on ours, centuries of protection becoming partnership instead.

Around us, the frozen light shifters pulse brighter—hope replacing the weary resignation of their endless vigil. Their power still feeds the barriers between realms, but now they can feel the possibility of change. Of choice. Of willing sacrifice freely given.

“Show them,” our father says, taking both our hands. His shadows flow perfectly between darkness and light, showing us how to bridge impossible spaces. “Show them what choice looks like.”

Together, we reach for the ancient barriers—my shadows transformed by understanding, Finn’s light strengthened by love, our father’s power guiding us toward what must be done. The void holds its breath. The realms wait.

And we begin.

The first barrier shimmers as we touch it—ancient magic recognizing something new. Through our joined hands, power flows in perfect circles: my transformed shadows, Finn’s determined light, our father’s balanced essence. The crystallized surface feels like frozen starlight under our combined touch.

“Like this,” he murmurs, showing us how to reach between realities. His power guides our own, showing us paths we wouldn’t have found alone. “Feel how the barriers want to change. How they’ve been waiting for a better way.”

The nearest light shifter’s crystallized form begins to pulse in response. I recognize our grandmother’s features as her awareness stirs, hope replacing the weary acceptance in her violet eyes. Centuries of forced sacrifice begin to crack under the weight of possibility.

“We’re here,” Finn tells her, his voice carrying all the gentleness I’ve come to associate with my twin. Even drained, he reaches out with perfect compassion. “We can show you another way. A willing way.”

Her power—trapped for so long in eternal sacrifice—reaches tentatively toward our combined essence. Through the connection, I feel her recognition. Her understanding. Her choice. The void itself seems to sing as she reaches for transformation instead of stasis.

“Yes,” she whispers, the first word spoken in centuries of frozen silence. Her crystallized form begins to pulse with new purpose. “Show us.”

My transformed shadows wrap around her crystallized form while Finn’s light seeps into ancient cracks. Our father’s balanced power guides us, showing us how to unwind stasis without unraveling support. How to transform sacrifice into partnership. His hands steady ours as we work, love making impossible things possible.

The barrier shifts, responding to willing choice rather than forced burden. Our grandmother’s form begins to change—not shattering but flowing. Becoming something new. Something chosen. Her power, no longer trapped but freely given, strengthens the barriers in ways forced sacrifice never could. Reality itself seems to sigh with relief as ancient wounds begin to heal.

“More coming,” Finn says, his light pulsing stronger as we work. Through our twin bond, I feel his joy as each light shifter wakes to new possibility. As each barrier transforms from prison to partnership.

Our father’s hands tighten on ours as he guides us deeper, showing us how to reach the oldest bindings. The first sacrifices. The places where reality first began to crack. His love makes impossible things possible as we work together.

“Together,” he says, and in that one word I hear centuries of loneliness transformed by love. “Show them all what family can do.”

Light shifters wake in waves around us, their power transforming from forced sacrifice to willing strength. Each one makes their choice—not to remain frozen between moments, but to actively support the barriers through partnership with shadow. Their combined power pulses like newborn stars through the void.

Through our pack bonds far above, I feel their work mirroring ours—Leo showing shadow beasts how to nurture, Matteo and his mother healing corruption, Bishop’s Guardian magic adapting to new possibilities. All of us choosing better ways to be. Their love reaches through impossible space, supporting our work even here in the depths.

“Look,” Finn whispers, and I follow his gaze to where reality itself seems to be healing. The void no longer hungers but cradles, ancient purpose remembered. The barriers no longer strain but flow, willing sacrifice stronger than forced burden. Each transformation spreads like ripples through existence.

Our father’s hands guide us through each change, his love making impossible things possible. Every touch carries centuries of waiting, of protecting, of hoping for exactly this moment. His smile grows with each light shifter awakened, each barrier transformed.

The last barrier—the oldest, the one that first began to fail—pulses beneath our combined power. Within its crystallized surface, I see our mother’s final message written in shadow-song:

Love transforms

Choice strengthens

Family endures

“She knew,” Finn breathes, his light merging perfectly with my shadows as we reach for that ancient binding. “She always knew we’d find a better way.”

“Together,” our father says, his balanced power supporting us both. His human form glows with pride as he guides our hands. “Show them what she saw in me. What she hoped for you. What love can truly do.”

Around us, restored light shifters add their willing power to ours. Above us, through our various bonds, I feel everyone we love working toward the same truth. The void itself seems to hold its breath as we touch that final barrier.

And transform everything.

The barrier changes beneath our touch—not breaking, not straining, but remembering what it was always meant to be. Light and shadow merge in perfect balance, willing sacrifice replacing forced burden. The void itself seems to sigh as ancient purpose is restored.

Our father pulls us both close, his human arms strong and real around us. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s joy mirror my own as we lean into his embrace. His chest rumbles with a laugh that sounds like starlight.

“My children,” he whispers into our hair, voice rough with emotion. “My hope. My heart.”

Above us, through our pack bonds, I feel their triumph as shadow beasts remember gentler purposes. Feel Leo’s warmth, Matteo’s protection, Bishop’s stability, Dorian’s precision—all of them helping forge this new balance.

Around us, restored light shifters join hands with shadow, their power freely given to support the barriers they once were forced to maintain. Our grandmother’s violet eyes shine with pride as she watches her family whole at last.

Reality settles into new patterns—not fixed, not forced, but flowing. Balanced. Chosen.

“Ready to go home?” I ask Finn, feeling his light pulse with contentment.

“Home,” he agrees, then looks at our father with hopeful eyes. “All of us.”

Our father smiles—the same smile I see in my own reflection, the same determination I recognize in Finn’s face. “Home,” he echoes, holding us close. “Together.”

My wolves and Finn’s foxes raise their voices in songs older than time, calling everyone to witness what love can transform, what choice can heal, what family can restore.

Forever.

As we were always meant to be.

In shadow and light.

In balance and choice.

In love without end.

Together.