Page 5 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 4

Bishop

“The void has breached the east barrier.” I study the reports spread across my desk, watching as another tremor makes the shadow essence readings spike. “Three more buildings have slipped fully into the shadow realm since dawn, consumed by the collapse.”

A low rumble shakes the foundation, making the monitoring crystals chime in warning. These quakes have been growing stronger as the shadow realm deteriorates, each one sending ripples through the barrier between worlds.

“And the Guardians’ response?” My mother’s voice crackles through the phone, sharp with political calculation.

“An emergency oath ceremony.” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice as I steady a toppling stack of papers. Through the window, I can see the east wing buildings flickering like poor reception, phasing between realms as the shadow realm’s collapse bleeds through. “Because clearly, what we need right now is more ritual and tradition.”

“Mind your tone, Bishop. Ceremony maintains order.”

“The shadow realm is literally unraveling, Mother. I don’t think proper ceremony is going to fix it.” Another tremor rattles the windows, emphasizing my point. The shadows in the corners of my office writhe unnaturally, responding to the destabilization of their home realm.

She sighs, the sound heavy with decades of Council politics. “Just... try to remember what we discussed. The Commander is watching you closely since?—”

“Since I chose to protect Frankie instead of following orders? Since I put pack before duty?”

“Since you showed independent thought,” she corrects. “Something the Guardian Command has never handled well.”

Before I can respond, Cass appears in my doorway, her back rigid with formality, but her eyes betraying something more—worry, perhaps. The latest tremor makes her steady herself against the doorframe. “Professor Mercer. The ceremony begins in ten minutes.”

“Understood.” I end the call, straightening my formal robes as another quake sends the shadow essence readings wild. Everything perfectly regulation, perfectly controlled. The way I was trained. The way I trained others, before Frankie crashed back into my life and shattered all my careful certainties.

The walk to the underground training grounds gives me too much time to think. Cass walks beside me, her posture as stiff as ever, but her eyes keep tracking the way shadows slither unnaturally across the walls. The collapse of their home realm making them restless, hungry.

“Any word on Valerie?” I ask, keeping my voice low. The tremors are worse in this part of campus, closer to where the shadow realm bleeds through. “She knows more about the collapse than she revealed.”

Cass hesitates, a rare crack in her professional mask. “No. She slipped into the shadow realm, Bishop. I tried tracking her through the unstable areas, but...” She gestures at the flickering reality around us. “She knows paths we can’t follow. Not with the realm falling apart.”

I nod, processing her words. “It wasn’t your fault. She knows our protocols better than anyone. Still...”

“Still,” she agrees, her voice carrying an edge of frustration. “But I won’t stop looking. Not until she’s found.” A particularly strong tremor makes us both pause. “If there’s anything left to search once the shadow realm finishes collapsing.”

I give her a sidelong glance, catching the determination in her eyes. “I know you won’t.”

Then the silence stretches between us again, heavy with everything unsaid. About choices and consequences. About a frightened girl in a foster home, and how I left her there, following orders. About finding her again, watching her build something beautiful despite everything we put her through.

About how many other lives we’ve ruined in the name of balance.

The ancient oath candles cast dancing shadows across the training grounds, their black flames consuming shadow essence instead of oxygen. Each tremor makes them flicker dangerously, the shadows they cast writhing like living things. Cass and I step into the chamber, the heavy door closing behind us with an echoing thud that’s almost lost in another quake.

I take my place among the other Guardians, each of them certain of their purpose. Their path. The underground chamber should feel safer, more stable, but even here I can feel the shadow realm’s deterioration. The very air seems to shiver between realities.

The Commander gestures for me to step forward, her gaze heavy with expectation. The tremors have left fine cracks in the ancient stone floor, dark energy seeping through like blood. “Bishop Mercer, come forth,” she calls, her voice echoing through the chamber. I take a deep breath, stepping into the center of the ritual space, all eyes fixed on me.

I hold my palm steady as the Guardian Commander makes the ritual cut, watching my blood mix with liquidized shadow. The droplets don’t fall—they float, swirling in patterns older than the university itself. But even this ancient magic seems unstable, the patterns wavering as another quake shakes the foundations.

“Blood of the Guardian,” the Commander intones, her voice echoing with centuries of power. “Shadow of the Realm. Bound in service, sealed in sacrifice.”

The words should feel familiar. They used to fill me with a sense of belonging, of purpose. But now they scrape against my growing awareness of Frankie and the others like steel on stone. Beside me, other Guardians undergo their own oath renewals, each of them certain of their place. Their purpose. Even as the ground trembles beneath us, warning of worse to come.

A memory surfaces: Frankie in my classroom that first day, shadows curling beneath her skin, untrained but so powerful. How many others have we left vulnerable, all in the name of control? Through our potential bond, I feel her responding to each quake, her innate connection to the shadow realm making her more sensitive to its collapse.

“Bishop Mercer,” the Commander continues, “you have upheld our laws, protected our secrets?—”

Protected secrets that should never have been kept, I think, remembering Frankie’s face when she discovered her twin. My blood swirls faster, agitated by my doubt. The tremors increase, as if the shadow realm itself responds to my uncertainty.

“—and maintained the balance.” The Commander pauses, her ancient eyes fixing on mine as another tremor rattles the oath candles. “Even in the face of... unexpected attachments.”

I feel it then—not quite a pack bond, but the potential for one. Like shadow essence before it takes form, waiting to be shaped. Through this tentative connection, I sense Frankie’s distant distress as another quake rocks the medical wing, Leo’s chaotic energy as he tries to protect his sisters from the unstable barriers, Matteo’s protective focus, Dorian’s growing concern about the manuscripts disappearing into the shadow realm. These ghost-bonds feel more real than the oath magic trying to bind my soul.

“The balance,” I repeat carefully, years of political training evident in my measured tone, “takes many forms.”

“Indeed.” She gestures, and an initiate brings forward the Prophecy Codex—a book I’ve seen exactly twice in my life. The leather binding seems to absorb light, the way the void consumes everything it touches in the collapsing shadow realm. “As do threats to it.”

My mother’s warnings echo in my mind. Watch yourself. The Commander fears change more than chaos. Another tremor emphasizes the point, making shadow essence leak through the chamber’s ancient stones.

“Commander?”

She opens the Codex to a marked page, and my breath catches. There, in ink that still moves after centuries, is an illustration of twins—one wreathed in shadow, one in light. My mother had shown me this page once, late at night when I was still learning what it meant to be her son, to be a Mercer without sharing her blood.

The image brings another memory: Frankie and Finn in the medical wing, their powers dancing between them, beautiful and terrible and natural as breathing. Nothing like the sterile traditions we cling to. Each tremor makes their combined power pulse stronger, as if they’re unconsciously trying to stabilize the failing realm.

“When shadows bleed and veils decay,” she reads, the prophecy’s words carrying more weight as the ground shakes beneath us. “Two souls torn shall find their way. Born where light and darkness meet, Twins divided, now must complete.” Her eyes meet mine. “Your potential pack bonds are noted, Guardian Mercer. But your oath came first.”

Understanding hits like a physical blow, coinciding with the strongest quake yet. The chamber groans, ancient stone protesting as more of the shadow realm’s collapse bleeds through. My mind reels, a thousand thoughts colliding at once. Everything I thought I knew—my training, my purpose, my loyalty—feels suddenly uncertain. The words of the prophecy echo in my head, each line a reminder of the impossible choice before me.

I think of Frankie, of the fragile hope she carries, the brother she fought so hard to find. How could they demand this of me? The oath I am about to take feels like chains tightening around my chest, binding me to a fate I don’t want to accept. Another tremor shakes loose ancient dust from the ceiling, the very foundations of Shadow Locke protesting as more of the shadow realm bleeds through.

“You can’t possibly?—”

“It is right here,” she cuts me off, pointing a finger at the book before her as the ground shudders. “When eclipse devours day’s last breath, and shadows dance between life and death, Their powers merge in sacrifice sweet, As light and dark at last complete.”

“The shadow realm is dying, Bishop.” My given name falls like a hammer. “The barriers between realms fracture. Shadow beasts slip through the growing cracks. The void consumes more of our world each day.” She traces the illustration of the twins with one aged finger. “And now we have twins of prophecy, one of whom may need to be... removed... for the greater good.”

The shadows around us writhe as another quake hits, responding to my fury. I think of young Frankie, alone and scared in that foster home. Of how I left her there, following orders like a good Guardian should. Of finding her again years later, watching her build something beautiful despite everything we put her through.

Of Finn, newly rescued, learning to trust after years of captivity. Of the way the twins’ powers dance together, healing the very fabric of reality around them. Each tremor seems to make their combined energy stronger, as if they’re unconsciously fighting the realm’s collapse.

“They’re barely understanding their powers,” I say, fighting to keep my voice level as the chamber groans around us. “Frankie just found her brother. You can’t?—”

“I can. And if ordered, you will assist.” She closes the Codex with finality. “The Guardians believe that if the twins are sacrificed, it may appease the void, buying us time to restore the barriers. Unless your unfulfilled pack bonds mean more than generations of duty.”

The oath candles flicker wildly with another quake, casting her face in harsh relief. In their light, I see what we’ve become—not protectors, but jailers. Not guardians, but executioners.

Before I can respond, a familiar voice carries down the stone stairs. “Actually, according to Shadow Realm Legal Code, Section 937-B, any prophecy-based execution order requires full Council approval and a hearing with all affected parties.”

The Commander whirls as another tremor shakes loose more ancient dust. “This is a closed ceremony. How did you?—”

“I let her in,” my mother says, stepping from the shadows in her full Councilor regalia. Even without a pack, she commands the darkness like it’s an extension of her will. The same way she’s commanded boardrooms and Council sessions while raising an adopted son alone. “Along with notifying the Council of this... interesting interpretation of Guardian duty.”

Luna Martinez stands beside her, legal pad in hand, looking entirely unfazed by both the ancient magic swirling around her and the way reality flickers at the edges. Trust Leo’s sister to treat supernatural law like just another day in court.

I’ve never loved my politically ambitious mother more than in this moment. Every sacrifice she made, every tradition she bucked by adopting a shadow shifter child without a mate or pack—it was all leading to this.

“Councilor Mercer,” the Commander grits out as another quake rattles the chamber, “this is Guardian business.”

“No,” I say, finally understanding something Frankie has been trying to teach me since that first day in my classroom. “This is family business. Pack business.” I turn my palm, still dripping oath-bound blood. “And if the Guardians have forgotten the difference between protection and control, perhaps it’s time for new oaths.”

My mother’s eyebrows rise, but I catch the pride in her eyes. Luna scribbles something in her legal pad, muttering about “precedent-setting ceremonies” and “progressive interpretation of ancient law” even as the ground trembles beneath us.

“You would break your oath?” the Commander demands. “For potential pack bonds that aren’t even sealed?”

“No.” I reach for those tentative connections, feeling their promise of belonging. Through them, I sense the twins working together, their combined power somehow steadying the tremors around them. Not sealed with Frankie’s bite yet, but chosen. Earned. “I would expand it.”

The ghost-bonds pulse with approval—Frankie’s determination, Leo’s pride, Matteo’s fierce support, Dorian’s reluctant admiration. Even without the bite, they’re there. Waiting. Hoping.

Ready.

Before anyone can stop me, I press my bleeding palm to the ancient oath stone. Shadow essence meets potential pack magic, and power explodes through the chamber. For a moment, the tremors stop completely, as if the shadow realm itself holds its breath. The force of it drives everyone but my mother back a step. When my vision clears, new marks spiral up my arm—the traditional Guardian sigils now interwoven with runes of choice and family.

“What have you done?” the Commander whispers, horror and fascination warring in her voice as the quakes resume.

“Created precedent,” Luna announces cheerfully, pen flying across her legal pad despite the shaking. “Fascinating. This will make an excellent test case for modernizing Shadow law. The implications for non-traditional family structures alone—” She pauses, glancing up as dust rains down. “Oh, and technically, according to Section 394-C of Guardian bylaws, this counts as a formal protest against the execution order.”

My mother actually smiles. “Perhaps it’s time for the shadows to evolve.” She moves to stand beside me, her own shadows merging with mine in silent support. “The Council will expect a full report. After we’ve ensured both twins’ safety, of course.”

“Of course,” the Commander echoes faintly, staring at my altered oath marks like they’re a personal betrayal. The black flames of the oath candles flicker wildly as another tremor hits. “You have twenty-four hours to return and plead your case for their lives. After that, we will take action without further delay.”

As if on cue, I feel Frankie’s alarm ripple through our potential bond. Something’s wrong in the medical wing, where the barrier between realms is thinnest. Even unsealed, the connection pulls at me to protect, to defend.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, already moving toward the stairs as the ground shudders, “my pack needs me.”

Through our growing bond, I feel Leo’s mix of horror and delight at his sister’s involvement. Matteo’s quiet amusement. Dorian’s resigned acceptance of more Martinez chaos. And Frankie—our alpha, our center—her determination tinged with fear as she fights to stabilize her brother against the shadow realm’s collapse.

My new oath marks burn with power, shadow and pack magic merged into something entirely new. Something that honors both my Guardian training and my chosen family.

The shadow realm may be dying, but some bonds are stronger than darkness.

Some choices reshape reality itself.

And some traditions are meant to be broken.

For pack.

For family.

For love.