Page 42 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 41

Bishop

The world changes in an instant.

One moment, we’re helping Matteo, and his mother heal another wave of shadow beasts. The next, reality itself seems to shudder as power pulses from the void’s rifts—not corruption this time, but something older. Purer. Something that makes my Guardian marks burn with recognition.

Through our pack bonds, I feel the exact moment Frankie and Finn succeed. The barriers between realms don’t just stabilize—they transform. Shadow and light merge in patterns I recognize from ancient texts, but this is different. Stronger. Willing rather than forced.

“Look,” Leo breathes, pointing to where the shadow beasts have stopped mid-healing. Their forms shift as corruption falls away not from our intervention now, but from choice. From remembrance of what they were meant to be.

Then the light shifters emerge.

They rise from the void’s depths like stars returning home, their power no longer trapped but freely given. Their faces carry centuries of wisdom transformed by hope. Among them, I recognize faces from Council portraits—the first Guardian families, the original protectors before fear replaced understanding.

“Guardians approaching,” Matteo warns, his fangs flashing as he scents the air. “Many of them.”

Through the stabilized air, I hear the distinctive sound of Guardian transportation. Not just a standard patrol—this is a full Council response. Commander Stone leads at least thirty senior Guardians, their oath marks blazing as they surround us.

“Hold,” I tell my pack, feeling their instinctive tension. My own marks pulse with conflicting loyalties—oath versus pack, duty versus love. “Wait.”

The Commander’s face as she takes in the scene will stay with me forever—her perfect composure cracking as she witnesses what choice, and love can accomplish where force failed. Behind her, the Council materializes in their formal robes, a stark reminder of the old order facing this transformed reality.

My mother—no, my aunt—steps forward, but there’s no political calculation in her face now. Only wonder as she watches transformed beasts flow like liquid night while light shifters add their willing power to the barriers.

Then... movement from the largest rift.

Three figures emerge—shadow and light and perfect balance. Frankie, supported by her twin and a man I somehow know is their father, even without his beast form. Their power radiates not with corruption or sacrifice, but with something entirely new. Something chosen.

“The prophecy,” Commander Stone starts, her voice lacking its usual authority. Her shadows stir restlessly as ancient magic recognizes deeper truth. “This isn’t... this was not what we...”

“No,” I say, moving to stand between my pack and the assembled Guardians. All my years of political training fall away as I choose, once again, what matters most. “It’s not what you expected. Not what you planned. It’s better.”

Through our bonds, I feel Frankie’s exhausted amusement at my formal tone. Feel Finn’s light pulse with soft warning as their father straightens to his full height—every inch a king even in human form. The transformed beasts around us seem to bow in his presence, not in submission but recognition.

“The old ways are done,” Frankie’s father says, his voice carrying millennia of power. “The barriers no longer require forced sacrifice. The void remembers its purpose.” His eyes fix on Commander Stone with ancient authority. “The question is... do you remember yours?”

The Commander’s shadows stir as ancient magic recognizes deeper truth. Around us, transformed beasts and restored light shifters gather—not threatening, but witnessing this moment when everything changes.

“The Guardians were meant to protect balance,” I say, my new oath marks blazing with renewed purpose. “Not enforce it. Not control it. Protect it.”

“Your father said much the same,” Commander Stone tells me softly. For the first time, I hear regret in her voice. “Before we...”

“Before we chose fear over understanding,” my aunt finishes. “As we all did. But now...” She gestures to the transformed reality around us, to what love and choice have accomplished.

Commander Stone lowers her head, a gesture of acceptance that carries centuries of meaning. One by one, the Guardians follow suit—not kneeling, but acknowledging that everything has changed.

But I barely notice.

Because Frankie is moving toward me, exhausted but alive, her shadows reaching for mine with all the fierce love that made me choose pack over duty. That made me break every rule I once lived by.

“Hi, Professor,” she says with that half-smile that first captured my heart in a classroom that feels lifetimes ago. Her wolves materialize around her, steadying her tired steps.

Protocol be damned.

I close the distance between us in three strides, gathering her into my arms. Through our bond, I feel her relief, her love, her bone-deep exhaustion. Feel how she lets herself finally, finally lean on someone else’s strength.

“Never again,” I whisper against her hair, not caring that the entire Council watches. “Never go where I can’t follow.”

She laughs softly against my chest. “You followed anyway. All of you did.”

The pack moves as one to surround us—Leo’s shadows unusually gentle as he supports Finn, Matteo’s fangs flashing in protective joy, Dorian’s frost patterns dancing with uncharacteristic emotion.

“Family,” Frankie’s father says, watching us with ancient eyes that carry new warmth. “Not just pack. Not just duty. But chosen family.”

Through our various bonds, I feel the others’ reactions to his words—Leo’s sunshine nature brightening, Matteo’s predator instincts recognizing deeper truth, Dorian’s careful walls finally lowering completely. Even the Council seems to hold its breath at this display of what power guided by love can accomplish.

Leo moves first, unable to contain himself any longer. He practically tackles both Frankie and me in a hug that would be undignified for a Guardian if I still cared about such things. His shadows wrap around us all, carrying that unique warmth that makes him Leo.

“Don’t ever,” he says into Frankie’s hair, voice thick with emotion, “ever do that again. My heart can’t take it.”

Matteo’s larger form envelops us next, his new fangs glinting as he creates a protective wall around his family. Through our bonds, I feel his predator nature finally settle—everyone he needs to protect finally safe within reach.

Even Dorian abandons his careful distance, his frost patterns swirling around us all as he joins our embrace. “This is highly irregular,” he mutters, but his arms tighten like he’ll never let go.

Finn watches us with soft wonder until Frankie reaches out, pulling her twin into our circle. Their father stands guard over us all, his human form no less powerful for its changed shape. Around us, transformed beasts and light shifters create a larger circle of protection, keeping the Council and their politics at bay.

“My pack,” Frankie whispers, exhaustion making her lean harder into our support. “My loves.”

Through our bonds, I feel everything she can’t put into words:

Her fierce joy at being home.

Her love for each of us—unique and perfect.

Her bone-deep certainty that this, all of this, is exactly what prophecy meant.

Leo presses kisses to her hair while Matteo rumbles protective sounds. Dorian’s frost creates delicate patterns of belonging around us all while I hold her like I’ll never let go.

“The Council will have questions,” I say softly, feeling their impatient energy behind our circle of protection. My Guardian training can’t quite let go of political reality, even now. “The Guardians will want explanations.”

“Let them wait,” Frankie’s father says, his voice carrying quiet authority that makes even Commander Stone step back. “Some moments deserve to be sacred.”

Sacred.

Like love freely given.

Like family freely chosen.

Like balance finally, properly understood.

Through our pack bonds, everything flows in perfect harmony: Leo’s warmth, Matteo’s protection, Dorian’s precision, my stability, all of it wrapping around Frankie’s exhausted but triumphant presence. Finn’s light pulses contentedly within our circle while their father stands guard, his shadows a gentle reminder of what power can be when wielded with love.

The Council and Guardians wait beyond our protective circle, their questions and politics held at bay by transformed beasts and restored light shifters. But none of that matters right now.

What matters is this:

Frankie safe in our arms.

Our pack whole and together.

Balance finally, properly achieved.

“Take us home,” Frankie murmurs against my chest, her wolves pressing close. “All of us.”

Home.

Not to the Council chambers.

Not to Guardian headquarters.

But to our pack house.

Where chosen family makes everything sacred.

“Home,” we echo, our voices joining in perfect harmony.

Above us, reality settles into new patterns—shadow and light in willing partnership. Around us, ancient beings remember gentler purposes. Within us, bonds pulse stronger than any prophecy could have predicted.

The void whispers its approval as we turn toward home, carrying our alpha, supporting her twin, accepting their father. Behind us, politics and power can wait.

Some choices remake reality itself.

Some love transforms everything it touches.

Some family extends beyond any barrier.

Forever.

As we were always meant to be.

Together.