23. Frankie

Chapter 23

Frankie

I’m not paying attention. That’s my first and only problem, but it’s a big one.

With my head buried in my notebook, I trudge toward the library when I’m suddenly airborne. My books scatter across the concrete as my knees slam into the sidewalk, rattling my teeth. My palms slap the ground, and little shards of sidewalk bite into my flesh. For a moment, all I can do is focus on the pain, lassoing it and burying it deep down.

I lean back on my heels, forcing myself to take in my surroundings, but it’s the two figures before me that steal my attention, their shadows stretching unnaturally long in the weak winter sunlight.

Amanda and Chloe. Great.

Amanda’s new haircut makes her look sharper and more dangerous, and her smile is all teeth and no warmth, reminding me of a shark circling its prey. Her school uniform, a mockery of modesty in the biting January air, clings to her form like a second skin. Her bare legs defy the elements, her pale flesh pebbled with goosebumps, while her button-down shirt strains against her bra, creating a makeshift crop top that screams of desperation and misplaced confidence.

Beside her, Chloe stands like a living shadow, the evil doppelganger to Jessica Rabbit’s crimson allure. Her uniform, worn with deceptive propriety, only serves to accentuate the dangerous curves beneath. She is a study in contradictions—alluring yet repellent, beautiful yet terrifying. In her, I see the truth of nature’s most beguiling predators, such as a coral snake’s hypnotic patterns. These two are beautiful, sure, but in the way a Venus flytrap is beautiful. Get too close, and you’re lunch.

I grind my teeth, breathing through my nose as I focus on their cruel smiles. Malice practically swirls around them like an aura, and for all I know, it might be.

“Ah yes, the Kardashians of Shadow Locke,” I drawl, not even glancing at my scattered belongings. These two are the real danger here. “Pray tell, to what do I owe the pleasure of the wannabe Housewives of Shadow Locke?”

As I speak, I feel the shadows at my feet stirring, responding to the surge of anger and fear I’m trying to keep in check. This confrontation is about to get interesting, and probably not in a good way.

Amanda’s lips curl into a sneer. “Cute, Frankie, real cute, but we’re not here for your Dollar Store wit.”

“No?” I ask, slowly getting to my feet. My knees throb, but I ignore the pain. Show no weakness. “Then why don’t you enlighten me?”

Chloe steps forward, her eyes glittering with malice. “It’s simple, really. We’re here to give you a friendly warning.”

I can’t help but snort. “Friendly? From you two? That’s rich.”

Chloe continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “You see, we couldn’t help but notice how cozy you’ve been getting with Leo and Matteo lately.”

A chill runs down my spine that has nothing to do with the January air, and Blackwood’s words from class echo in my mind. Some ambitious females have been known to eliminate rivals for the powerful males they’ve chosen, not for their own position.

I force a casual shrug. “They are my friends. What’s it to you?”

Amanda laughs, the sound sharp and cruel. “Friends? Oh, honey. You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

Chloe’s voice drops to a near whisper. “They are mine, Frankie. Leo and Matteo? They belong in my pack, and I won’t let some half-rate shadow shifter with delusions of grandeur get in my way.”

I feel my shadows responding to the anger bubbling up inside me. “I hate to break it to you, Chloe, but people aren’t possessions. Leo and Matteo can make their own choices.”

“Can they?” Amanda asks, her tone feigned innocence. “Or are they just drawn to the shiny new toy? The girl with the mysterious past and the... unusual abilities?”

My blood runs cold.

Chloe steps closer, her voice low and dangerous. “Listen carefully, Frankie. I don’t care about your little crush on Bishop, or whatever’s going on with you and that freak Dorian, but Leo and Matteo are off-limits.”

I stand my ground, even as every instinct screams at me to run. “Or what?”

“Or we’ll show you exactly why female pack leaders are the most feared in our world,” Amanda hisses.

I remember Blackwood’s words. Female pack leaders face unique challenges. You must be stronger, faster, and more cunning than your male counterparts. The price of failure is not just defeat, but often death.

The weight of those words settles on me like a shroud. Is this what my life will always be now? A constant battle for survival, where even friendships are seen as threats?

For a moment, I consider backing down. It would be easier, but then I think of everything I’ve been through and everything I’ve survived. I’ve faced worse than these two wannabe queen bees.

“Here’s the thing,” I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. “I don’t want a pack, and I don’t want to lead anyone, but if you think you can push me around like some shadow puppet, you’ve got another thing coming. I won’t let you threaten me or try to control who I’m friends with. That’s not how this works.”

Chloe’s eyes narrow. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about friendship. It’s about power, about building the strongest pack possible, and I won’t let you interfere with that.”

“I’m not interfering with anything,” I insist, my voice low but steady, like the calm before a storm, “and I won’t be bullied into submission. I’ve faced worse than you two.”

Amanda laughs, the sound echoing across the now empty quad. When did everyone else leave? “Oh, Frankie. You have no idea what you’re up against.”

As if on cue, the shadows around us begin to writhe and twist, responding to Chloe’s and Amanda’s power. I feel my own shadows stirring in response, ready for a fight I’m not sure I can win.

As I stand here, facing these two would-be alphas, I realize something. This is exactly what Blackwood was warning us about—the cutthroat nature of shadow shifter society, where alliances are formed and broken over perceived power dynamics. Friendship can be seen as a threat, and showing weakness isn’t an option.

Thoughts of my complicated relationships flood my mind. Bishop’s intense gaze, Leo’s warm smile, Matteo’s protective presence, and even Dorian’s enigmatic allure—each of them stirs something within me. Would any of them stand beside me now, or would they see me as a threat too? The uncertainty of where I stand with each of them adds another layer of complexity to my already chaotic emotions. I push these thoughts aside, focusing on the immediate danger, but the ache of longing lingers.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next. “Alright,” I say, my voice low and steady. “Let’s get this over with.”

Chloe’s eyes flash with anger, and for a moment, I swear I see her pupils elongate into slits. “You better watch your back, Frankie. You have no clue what you’re messing with.”

As she speaks, the air around us seems to thicken, growing heavy with tension and unspoken threats. I can feel Amanda’s and Chloe’s hostility pressing in on me, almost a tangible force, but beneath that, there’s something else—a desire for power that radiates off them in waves.

I plant my feet, rooting myself to the spot even as every nerve in my body screams for flight. My muscles coil tight, a spring ready to unleash at a moment’s notice. “Neither do you,” I reply, my voice a low, steady rumble that belies the thunderous beating of my heart. “I’m not seeking conflict, but make no mistake—I won’t crumble before your threats.”

Amanda’s laughter slices through the air, a sound as sharp and cruel as shattered glass. It echoes in the emptiness around us, a discordant melody that sets my teeth on edge. “Oh, sweetie,” she croons, her words dripping with venomous honey. “Choice is an illusion you can no longer afford. This reckoning was inevitable from the moment you dared to exist in our world.”

As she speaks, she and Chloe begin to move, their steps a choreographed dance of menace. They circle me with liquid grace, predators sizing up their prey, their eyes gleaming with barely contained hunger. I pivot slowly, my gaze darting between them, desperate to keep both in my line of sight. My heart thunders in my chest, a war drum pounding out a frenzied rhythm of fear and defiance. Despite the biting January chill, sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my temples like icy fingers of dread.

The air around us thickens, heavy with unspoken threats and the electric charge of impending violence. Each breath feels like inhaling syrup, the tension so palpable it’s almost suffocating. In this moment, suspended between action and reaction, I can almost taste the metallic tang of destiny shifting on my tongue.

My gut screams at me to run, but I am frozen in place, torn between fight and flight. How can I defend against a threat I barely understand, with powers I’ve never consciously controlled? My abilities have always been a wild current, surging through me unbidden in moments of crisis, but now, with danger circling like vultures over carrion, I must seize the reins of this untamed force within me.

The memory of the shield incident flashes through my mind, a beacon of hope in this maelstrom of fear. I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the world, and focus inward. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I reach for that elusive energy, my mental fingers grasping at wisps of power.

Come on, I plead silently, my thoughts a desperate prayer to forces I don’t comprehend. I need you now. Be my aegis against this storm.

I remember Professor Blackwood’s warnings about the unpredictable nature of our powers, especially for untrained shifters. The possibility of accidentally breaching the veil between worlds flashes through my mind. It’s a risk, but right now, it might be my only chance.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever may come. As I reach deeper into my power, I feel something shift within me, a door unlocking to a realm I’ve only glimpsed in my darkest nightmares.

I should have pushed the guys to tutor me sooner, but with the world imploding, there was no time. Now I have to reach for my gift on my own, and I have no idea what I’m doing.

Nothing stirs, but then, like the first tremors before an earthquake, I feel a ripple of power deep within my core, a slumbering titan slowly rousing from eons of sleep. As this force unfurls within me, dread coils in my stomach. This isn’t the warm, golden light of protection I hoped for. Instead, a bone-deep chill seeps through my veins, as if winter itself has taken residence in my blood.

My eyes snap open, and I gasp at the transformation before me. The world I knew has vanished, replaced by a reality straight from the fever dreams of a mad god.

Or Nyx.

The bright January day vanishes, replaced by a twilight realm of deep shadows and muted colors. The air grows heavy, smelling like a thunderstorm mixed with something old and wild. The campus fades away, replaced by a world of shadows that make my head spin just from trying to make sense of it. Colors bleed and warp, muted yet somehow more intense, as if viewed through a prism of shadow. The air thickens, becoming a tangible entity that presses against my skin, heavy with the scent of ozone and something far older—a primordial musk that speaks of forgotten epochs and nameless terrors.

Our surroundings flicker and undulate, reality seeming to ripple like the surface of a dark, bottomless lake. The January chill I felt moments ago pales in comparison to the bone-deep cold that now seeps into my very essence, as if the warmth of life is being sucked away.

Amanda and Chloe stand frozen, their eyes wide with a fear so palpable I can almost taste it. Their earlier bravado evaporates like morning mist before the harsh light of this new, terrifying reality.

“What did you do?” Chloe’s whisper barely carries, the usual venom in her voice replaced by naked terror.

I shake my head, my own bewilderment a mirror to theirs. “I... I don’t know,” I say, the words feeling foreign in my mouth, as if the very act of speaking is an aberration in this otherworldly realm.

As the truth of my words sinks in, so does the magnitude of what I’ve unwittingly unleashed. This isn’t the protective shield I sought to summon, but something far more vast and perilous. Somehow, I’ve torn open the veil between worlds, calling forth the shadow realm Professor Blackwood warned us about—the wellspring of our powers and the abyss of our greatest fears.

The shadows begin to coalesce around us, taking on forms that mock the concept of physical existence. These are creatures born of nightmares and madness, beings of pure darkness with a geometry that defies euclidean logic. Limbs sprout and multiply in impossible configurations, while eyes blaze with an inner fire that seems to consume light itself. Their movements are a jerky, unsettling dance, each twitch and undulation a violation of natural law that sends shivers cascading down my spine.

These shadow entities swarm around us, their curiosity a palpable force. I can feel their alien minds probing at the edges of my consciousness, hungry to understand this being who has bridged the gap between realms. Their very presence is an affront to reality, each moment of their existence threatening to unravel the fabric of my sanity.

Amanda recoils, her face a mask of ashen terror. “This defies all laws,” she whispers, her voice quavering like a leaf in a storm.

“Seems Frankie didn’t get the memo,” Chloe snaps, but her usual venom is diluted by the tremor in her voice, fear bleeding through every syllable.

I’m paralyzed, a statue of flesh and bone, overwhelmed by the cosmic horror I unwittingly unleashed. The shadow creatures draw closer, their attention focused on me. I can feel their desire to comprehend this anomaly that has breached the barriers between worlds. Their scrutiny is a physical weight, pressing down on me from all sides.

Suddenly, the swarm of shadows parts like a dark sea, making way for a presence that dwarfs all others. One shadow, vaster and more ancient than its brethren, glides toward me. As it approaches, it begins to take on a more defined shape, fusing into something hauntingly familiar yet utterly alien.

Tall and regal, with a feminine grace that belies its otherworldly nature, the being towers over us. Its eyes are twin voids that seem to swallow all light and hope. My breath catches in my throat, lodging there like a shard of ice as realization dawns. I’m standing before Nyx herself—the primordial goddess of night, and the mother of all shadow shifters.

Her gaze pierces through me, stripping away all pretense and baring the very essence of my being. All my fears, doubts, and hidden strengths are exposed before her cosmic scrutiny. I feel naked and vulnerable before the vastness of eternity.

When Nyx speaks, her voice is soft yet all-encompassing, a whisper that resonates through the very fabric of reality. “Child of shadow and light,” she intones, each word heavy with the weight of eons, “you tread a path fraught with peril.”

I swallow hard, finding my voice despite the terror that threatens to choke me. “I... I never meant to summon you. Any of you. I was merely trying to defend myself.”

Nyx tilts her head, the gesture eerily human. “Your intentions don’t change what you’ve done, child. You can walk between worlds. It’s a rare gift, but it’s dangerous. It could make you powerful, or it could destroy you.”

I nod, words failing me in the face of such cosmic truth. Around us, the shadow creatures continue their ballet, their movements weaving complex patterns in the air that hurt the eyes.

Nyx turns her unfathomable gaze to Amanda and Chloe, who shrink back as if trying to disappear into themselves. “And you,” she says, her voice hardening to obsidian sharpness, “who would threaten one under my aegis. Do you truly comprehend the forces you so carelessly toy with?”

Amanda and Chloe shake their heads, abject terror evident in every line of their bodies.

“The true strength of a pack,” Nyx continues, her words echoing with primordial wisdom, “lies not in domination, but in harmony, in recognizing and embracing the unique strengths of each member. This is a lesson you would do well to inscribe upon your souls.”

With those words, she begins to fade, her form dissolving like smoke in the wind. The shadow realm follows suit, melting away like a fevered nightmare in the light of dawn. In the span of a heartbeat, we find ourselves standing once more in the familiar surroundings of the campus quad, the January sun a pale disk in a colorless sky.

For a long moment, none of us speak. We stand frozen, our minds struggling to process the cosmic horror we just witnessed.

Finally, Amanda breaks the suffocating silence. “This isn’t over,” she says, but her voice lacks its earlier venom. She grabs Chloe’s arm and practically drags her away, both casting fearful glances back at me as if I might summon unearthly horrors at any moment.

As they disappear around a corner, the strength leaves my body. I sink to my knees, exhausted and overwhelmed as the weight of this new reality crushes down upon me. What have I done? And more importantly, what does it mean for my future?

I can still see the fear in Amanda and Chloe’s eyes, a stark contrast to their earlier bravado. Will they back off now, or will this drive them to more desperate measures? As for me, the enormity of what just happened begins to sink in. I touched something ancient and terrifying, something I barely understand. The power thrums through my veins, both exhilarating and terrifying.

I need to talk to someone—Bishop, Leo, Matteo, even Dorian. I need answers, and I need them now. First, I need to pull myself together and figure out how to navigate this new reality without accidentally summoning eldritch horrors every time I feel threatened.

One thing is certain—the world as I knew it has irrevocably changed. This new power feels too heavy, like I just picked up a burden I wasn’t sure I could carry. I survived Valerie and endured the shield incident, but this is something else entirely, something bigger, more terrifying, and infinitely more dangerous.

She called me child of shadow and light…

Who the actual fuck am I?