Page 9 of Echoes From the Void (Shadow Locke Shifters #3)

Chapter 8

Leo

I’ve always been good at juggling chaos. Growing up with five sisters kind of makes that a survival skill. But watching Lyra and Liliana map out shadow-safe zones while trying to keep everyone alive and relatively sane? That’s pushing even my legendary multitasking abilities.

“Blue tape means safe zones,” I explain for the third time, because apparently my baby sisters inherited my attention span. “Stay inside them unless you want to become shadow beast snacks. Which, by the way, is not covered by our family health insurance.”

“That joke wasn’t funny the first time,” Luna calls from behind her wall of legal documents.

“I’m hilarious and you know it.” I move to correct Lucia’s protection sigils before they accidentally summon something nasty. “Counterclockwise, sis. We want to repel shadow beasts, not invite them to dinner.”

Through our potential pack bonds, I feel Matteo’s amusement at my teaching style. He’s been extra protective since his transformation last night, those new fangs appearing every time someone moves too quickly. Not that I’m complaining—the fangs are seriously hot.

“Your aura fluctuates when you think about Matteo,” Lena observes, scribbling in her ever-present notebook. “The shadow patterns suggest a deep-rooted emotional connection possibly stemming from shared adolescent experiences?—”

“If you’re writing another paper about my love life,” I warn, “remember the Luna’s divorce incident.”

“This is different! The psychological implications of supernatural pack dynamics on familial bonds?—”

“Can we focus?” Luna interrupts, but I catch her fighting a smile. She’s been doing that more since arriving, like watching me with my potential pack helps her believe in love again after her divorce. “If Father’s claiming the girls need ‘specialized care’ for their ‘unique conditions,’ we need something stronger than the Richardson case.”

My head spins trying to keep up with five sisters, four mates, and about fifteen different crises. But hey, that’s what sunshine personalities are for, right? Keep smiling, keep joking, keep everyone else from falling apart.

“Leo.” Matteo’s voice carries a warning. Even before the pack bonds, he could always tell when my cheer was more shield than truth. Seventeen years of friendship—and several of those spent pointlessly denying we were more—gave him a PhD in reading my deflections.

Before Matteo can call me out on my I’m fine face—which stopped working on him somewhere around tenth grade—Lyra’s violin case bursts open. Notes spill into the air—literally spill, visible as shadowed light that resonates with the shadow energy saturating the room. It’s beautiful and terrifying, kind of like watching Matteo discover his fangs last night.

“That’s... new,” Lyra whispers, staring at her hands. My usually confident sister looks small and scared, reminding me of all the times I’d chase away monsters under her bed. Except now the monsters are real, and they’re part of us.

Liliana’s inhaler clatters to the floor as she gasps, “Look!”

Shadow marks spiral across both girls’ skin, identical to mine. Marks that definitely weren’t there yesterday. Fear spikes through me—not of the power, but for them. I’ve spent my entire life protecting my sisters, being the man of the house, making sure they never felt our father’s absence.

“Well, shit,” Luna says eloquently.

“Language,” I remind her automatically, falling into big brother mode even as my mind races. If the girls are showing shadow shifter traits now... Dad didn’t just abandon us. He left us completely unprepared for our inheritance—hid the fact that his shadow shifter bloodline would activate in his children. Mom was fully human, which meant our powers should have manifested gradually, with guidance. Instead, we’re all awakening at once as the shadow realm deteriorates.

“The custody case just got more complicated,” Bishop observes, already pulling out his phone. His new oath marks pulse with power, and through our bond I feel his strategic mind working overtime. “We need to?—”

The building’s shadow alarms shriek.

I move instinctively between my sisters and the door, my own shadows rising. Matteo appears at my side, his presence as natural as breathing. We’ve been protecting people together since we were kids—him with his fierce strength, me with my ability to make others smile even in darkness.

“That’s it!” Dorian bursts into the room, looking unusually disheveled. For our resident perfectionist to have his shirt untucked, this must be big. “The frequency patterns in Eredar beast calls—they’re musical. The beasts aren’t just roaring, they’re trying to restore harmony between the realms! Look—” He gestures to where Lyra’s violin notes hang visible in the air. “When your music hits the right frequency, it naturally aligns shadow essence, just like when the twins’ powers work together. The realms are meant to resonate in harmony, but they’re falling out of tune. That’s why everything is destabilizing!”

A new sound cuts him off. A car door slamming. Familiar footsteps that still feature in my nightmares, though I’d never admit that to Lena.

“No,” Liliana whimpers. “He’s here.”

My youngest sister’s fear hits me like a physical blow. I was twelve when he left, old enough to understand but young enough to break. Liliana was barely walking. She doesn’t even remember him, just knows the shape of his absence.

“Leo.” Matteo moves closer, solid and real. His twilight shadows reach for mine instinctively, a habit formed long before we understood what we were. “What do you need?”

What do I need? I need my sisters safe. I need my pack stable. I need to not fall apart when everyone’s counting on my sunshine to light the way. I need...

I need to stop pretending I can handle everything with a smile and a joke.

Lyra’s violin strings hum, responding to the rising tension. The shadows in the room dance, and I remember all those nights after he left, playing music with Lyra to help her sleep. Using laughter to dry tears. Finding light in darkness.

Maybe that’s been the point all along.

“Luna, get the girls behind the protective barriers,” I say, voice steadier than I feel. My shadows might hold a golden tinge, but they’re just as strong as Matteo’s darkness. “Bishop, we’ll need those Guardian wards. Matteo?—”

“Already on it.” He moves to guard the door, shadows gathering around him. The bond between us pulses with years of shared protection—him guarding my sisters while I made them laugh, me keeping him human while he kept us safe.

“What about Father?” Lena asks, still taking notes because of course she is. Even facing family trauma, my sister’s scientific mind never stops. “Your aura suggests?—”

“Time for truth,” I cut her off gently. Through our potential pack bonds, I feel their strength flowing into me. Not just their power, but their acceptance. Their understanding that sometimes the brightest lights cast the deepest shadows.

I open the door.

Our father stands there, expensive suit and practiced smile exactly as I remember. But something was different about him. His expensive suit couldn’t hide how his shadows moved wrong—writhing beneath his skin like living things trying to escape. Each time he shifted position, darkness rippled unnaturally, leaving trails that seemed to bend reality itself. When his gaze met mine, I saw something ancient and hungry looking back—something that wasn’t entirely my father anymore.

“Leonardo,” he starts, then freezes. Shadow marks swirl across my skin, matching my sisters’ new patterns.

“Hello, Father,” I say, keeping my voice light. The same tone I used to comfort my sisters after his calls stopped coming. “We need to talk about genetics. Maybe start with why your children are manifesting shadow powers? Or why you left six untrained shifters alone?”

His face pales as Lyra’s violin music swells, visible notes twining with shadow essence. “You... all of you...”

“Inherited your shadow shifter genes?” Luna supplies helpfully from behind her legal fortress. “Yeah, funny how that works. Almost like you should have mentioned it before abandoning your children. There’s precedent for criminal negligence in supernatural inheritance cases, by the way. I checked.”

“I was protecting you,” he whispers. “The shadow realm?—”

“Is falling apart,” I finish, letting my shadows dance with Lyra’s music. “Yeah, we know. But guess what? We’re handling it. As a family.” I gesture to the pack, to my sisters, to the visible proof of our strength. “A real one. The kind that stays.”

The last words hit him like I meant them to. Through the pack bonds, I feel their approval—especially Matteo’s. He’s seen every scar my father’s abandonment left, helped me hide my own pain while I helped my sisters heal.

Something changes in our father’s face. Recognition, maybe. Or regret. His own shadow marks begin to show, responding to the power in the room.

“The Martinez line was always strong,” he says softly, his neck twitching oddly. Dark veins pulse beneath his expensive collar. “I should have...”

“Yes,” Lena interjects, though I catch her gaze tracking his unnatural movements. “You should have. But psychological analysis of your failures as a father can wait.”

I love my sisters so much.

Lyra’s music shifts, finding a pattern that makes the shadow essence dance. Like all those nights I’d sing her to sleep, finding light in darkness. The realm alarms quiet.

“How...” Father stares at the display of magic, at his children wielding power he never taught them to use. And yet the longer I look at him the more I notice there is something off. He continues to grit his teeth. His head jerking every now and again.

“Family harmony,” Lucia says, adding a final sigil to her protection circle. “Literally. Turns out when you don’t abandon your family, amazing things happen.”

“Ouch,” I grin. “And here I thought I was the one with the sharp tongue.”

“The thing is, Father,” I say, letting my natural warmth carry an edge, “you left us thinking you were protecting us. But look what we became without you.”

Luna, the lawyer who fought her way through school while helping raise her sisters. Lucia, whose protection sigils rival any Guardian’s. Lena, turning her need to understand our trauma into a career. Lyra, whose music literally bends reality now. And Liliana, my baby sister, standing tall despite her fear.

And me? The class clown who held us together with jokes and midnight stories? I’ve got shadows that dance like sunlight and a pack that loves every part of me.

“Your mother,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“Worked three jobs to support us. Never missed a recital, a game, a parent-teacher conference. Never made us feel like we weren’t enough.” I feel Matteo move closer, his presence steadying me. “She didn’t know about the shadow shifter genes either, did she? Not until you disappeared.”

His silence is answer enough.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” I continue, still smiling because that’s who I am, who I chose to be despite everything. “You’re going to drop the custody case. You’re going to provide Luna with everything you know about shadow shifter inheritance rights. And then you’re going to watch from a very safe distance while we save the realms without you.”

“You don’t understand the danger?—”

“Actually,” Bishop steps forward, his new oath marks glowing, “as both a Guardian and a member of Leo’s pack, I can assure you we understand the danger perfectly. We also understand family loyalty, which seems to be a concept you struggle with.”

“And if you’re worried about the girls’ safety,” I add, watching Lyra’s musical notes dance with our shadows, “you should see what happens when someone actually threatens my family.”

As if on cue, Matteo lets his new fangs show. Just a flash, but it’s enough to make our father step back.

“The pack bonds,” he whispers, finally noticing how our energies intertwine. “You’ve found... but how?”

“Because Leo brings people together,” Lena answers, her clinical tone softening. “While you were running away, he was building something stronger than blood.”

Through our bonds, I feel their agreement. Frankie’s quiet understanding, Bishop’s firm support, Dorian’s reluctant affection. And Matteo—always Matteo—his twilight shadows wrapping around mine like they have since we were kids.

“It’s actually fascinating from a psychological perspective,” Lena continues, because of course she can’t help herself. “The way trauma can either break familial bonds or?—”

“Later, sis,” Luna interrupts. “Right now, Father needs to sign these papers.” She holds up a stack of documents. “Relinquishing all custody claims and acknowledging the girls’ right to choose their own guardians. Which, spoiler alert, isn’t you.”

“And if I refuse?” he asks, his gaze flicking from Luna to the rest of us, almost pleading.

Lyra’s violin strings hum a warning note. Shadow essence ripples through the room, responding to our combined will. Five sisters, four potential mates, one unbreakable bond of chosen family.

“Then,” I say pleasantly, still smiling because that’s my strength, not my weakness, “you get to explain to the Shadow Council why you abandoned six untrained shifters, endangering both them and the realms. Bishop’s mother would be particularly interested in that conversation, I think.”

Our father looks around the room—at the protection sigils Lucia crafted, the notes Lena’s taken about shadow shifter psychology, the legal precedents Luna’s gathered. At Lyra’s music made visible and Liliana’s quiet strength. At the pack that stands with us, making our shadows stronger.

“You protected nothing by leaving,” I say softly. “But we protected each other. We’re still protecting each other.” I gesture to my pack, my sisters, the family we’ve built. “That’s the difference between running away and standing together.”

A shadow beast roars in the distance, but Lyra’s music shifts, harmonizing with the sound until it fades. The power in her, in all of us, isn’t just inherited—it’s earned through years of holding each other up.

“You know what I remember most about when you left?” I continue, feeling Matteo’s pure darkness support my twilight shadows. Where his shadows are deep and predatory, mine have always held that hint of light, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. “Not the pain or the anger. I remember sitting with Liliana when she cried, making shadow puppets on her wall to make her laugh. I remember helping Lyra practice violin at midnight because the music kept the nightmares away. I remember every single moment we turned pain into something better.”

“Leo,” Luna warns softly, but I need to say this.

“So thank you,” I tell our father. “Thank you for leaving. Because it taught us how to stay. It taught us that family isn’t about blood or power or duty. It’s about choice. Every single day, we choose each other.”

“The papers,” Luna says into the heavy silence, holding out a pen.

Our father stares at his children—not broken by his absence, but strengthened by it. At the pack that stands with us, making our shadows brighter.

“I...” he starts.

“Choose wisely,” I say, still smiling. “It’s kind of our family specialty now.”

He sighs, then takes the pen and signs the papers. Luna immediately whisks them away, already talking about filing procedures and supernatural law precedents. Lena scribbles final notes about resolution patterns in abandonment scenarios. Lucia adjusts her protection sigils to account for our father’s lingering shadow energy.

And me? I feel the tension finally leave my shoulders as Matteo’s arms wrap around me from behind.

“You okay?” he asks in that tone that’s been caring for me since we were teenagers.

“I’m good,” I say, and for once it’s not a deflection. “Really good.”

Lyra’s music shifts to something lighter, her notes dancing with our shadows like celebration made visible. Liliana joins her, humming harmony, and suddenly the room fills with light and shadow and sound—all the pieces of us coming together.

“Did you see it too?” Lyra whispers when Dad finally leaves. “The shadows under his skin—they weren’t right, Leo.”

“I know,” I reply, reaching into shadow space to pull out a chocolate bar for Liliana. “Mom warned me this might happen. That’s why she made me practice so much.”

“So,” Lena says, clicking her pen. “About that therapy session...”

“Not now,” Luna groans.

“Thursday works,” I say, laughing at their surprised looks. “What? Even sunshine needs maintenance.”

Matteo’s twilight shadows curl around mine as our father’s car drives away. And yet a nagging thought swirls in the back of my mind. Darkness swirls underneath the car.

Something tells me this isn’t the last we will be seeing of him, and something else tells me that he’s been corrupted as well.

Only time will tell.