30. Frankie

Chapter 30

Frankie

Red eyes stare at me from an endless void, their gaze unblinking and hungry. I jolt awake, my heart pounding, to find Umbraxis licking my fingers. The clock reads 5:47 AM. So much for a good night’s sleep.

Tori’s empty bed mocks me across the room, the sheets pulled tight with military precision. The sight twists something in my chest. It’s only been hours, but her absence makes it feel like a chasm is opening between us, a void as vast and cold as the shadows themselves.

I throw on clothes haphazardly, my mind already racing ahead to meeting the guys.

The January air slices at my exposed skin like invisible knives, its icy fingers seeming to reach straight through my clothes. The scents of frost and pine needles fill my lungs, sharp and clean, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the dorm. Students huddle in clusters, their excited whispers about the unexpected break mingling with undercurrents of fear. There’s this weird tension in the air, like the shadows are watching us, just waiting for us to screw up.

Leo and Matteo wait for me in the quad, Umbraxis padding silently at my heels. I catch Matteo’s eyes darting around, cataloging potential threats and escape routes. His protective instincts never seem to switch off. Dorian is decidedly absent, which leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Leo’s usual grin is strained, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against his thigh. “Well, well, well. Unexpected vacay time. Who’s ready for some shadow-filled shenanigans?” he quips, his trademark grin not quite reaching his eyes as he hands me a cup of coffee.

Sans pun.

I grip the steaming cup, letting the warmth seep into my skin.

As we head out, I can’t help but wonder where Bishop is in all this. He’s been MIA for days, and it’s starting to feel less like his usual mysterious act and more like... something else. A pang of worry hits me, but I push it aside.

One crisis at a time, Frankie. Right now, we have a pack house to find.

“Hey,” Leo says softly, catching my expression. “You okay? Thinking about Bishop?”

I nod, surprised he read me so easily. “Yeah, it’s just... weird, you know? Him not being around for all this.”

Matteo’s face darkens slightly. “Indeed. His absence is... concerning. Perhaps we should?—”

“Later,” I cut in, forcing a smile. “Let’s focus on not ending up in a literal haunted house first, okay?”

Matteo’s gaze never stops moving, scanning our surroundings. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. “We need a plan,” he mutters more to himself than to us. “Training regimens, research schedules, contingency plans for?—”

“Slow down, Matteo,” I interrupt, placing a hand on his arm. “One thing at a time. Let’s start with finding a place to live, yeah?”

A familiar voice cuts through the tension. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite band of misfits. Looking a bit lost, aren’t we?”

We turn to see Professor Everett sauntering toward us, his weathered face creased with a mix of amusement and concern. His eyes linger on Umbraxis, and one eyebrow arches upwards, but he doesn’t comment.

“Professor,” Matteo begins, but Everett waves him off.

“None of that formality nonsense, not with the shitstorm brewing. Call me Everett.” His expression grows serious, shadows seeming to deepen the lines on his face. “Listen up, kids. With classes canceled, I think it’s time for some... extracurricular education. What do you say to a crash course in advanced shadow shifting? And I do mean crash, because we don’t have time for gentle learning curves.”

Hope blooms in my chest, warm and unexpected. “You’d do that for us?”

Everett’s eyes twinkle, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. “Consider it my civic duty. Besides, someone has to make sure you lot don’t get yourselves killed.”

Leo’s eyes light up with a mix of excitement and relief. “Does this mean we’re trading those mind-numbing charts for some real-world shadow action? Because I’m all in for that.”

Matteo shoots him a look that could curdle milk, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I can’t promise it’ll be easy,” Everett continues, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “but I can promise it’ll be more useful than whatever is in those dusty textbooks, which is where Dorian is.” He winks, as if sharing a private joke. “Meet me at the old lighthouse in an hour. Bring snacks—nothing kills the mood like a hungry shadow shifter.”

As Everett walks away, we huddle closer. Umbraxis presses against my leg, a cool, comforting presence.

“This could be exactly what we need,” Matteo says, his voice low and intense. “Everett’s knowledge of shadows is unparalleled. If anyone can help us understand what’s happening...”

I nod, feeling a spark of determination ignite within me. “Maybe we can finally get some real answers.”

Leo throws his arms around both our shoulders, his warmth a stark contrast to the biting cold. “Look at us, about to embark on a magical mystery tour. Next stop, kicking shadow ass and taking names.”

An hour later, we climb the winding stairs of the lighthouse, our arms laden with books and enough snacks to feed a small army. The scents of salt and old stone grow stronger with each step, the air heavy with secrets and the tang of ancient magic.

Everett waits for us in the circular room at the top, surrounded by ancient tomes and artifacts that pulse with barely contained power. Oil lamps cast flickering shadows on the walls, their dance hypnotic and slightly unnerving.

“Welcome to Shadow Shifting 401,” Everett says, his voice taking on a more formal tone. “Forget everything you think you know. We’re going back to basics, and then we’re going to shatter those basics into a million pieces.”

Everett raises his hands, and holy crap, his eyes are glowing. The shadows start moving around him like they are alive. It’s cool and creepy at the same time. “Let’s begin with the basics of shadow manipulation,” he says, his voice resonating with power.

My breath catches as a tendril of darkness extends from his fingertips, twisting and coiling in the air. It’s beautiful and terrifying all at once, like staring into the heart of a storm.

“Look,” Everett says, “shadows aren’t just dark spots. They have their own... I don’t know, personality? You have to work with them, not against them.”

He gestures, and the shadow tendril splits into a dozen smaller strands. They dance through the air, weaving complex patterns that make my eyes water and my mind reel.

“Now you try,” Everett says, looking at each of us in turn.

I extend my hand, trying to mimic his movements. At first, nothing happens, but then I feel it—a cool tingle in my fingertips that sends shivers down my spine. A small shadow peels away from the floor, wavering uncertainly in the air.

“Good, Frankie.” Everett nods approvingly. “Leo, relax your grip. Shadows respond to intention, not force. Matteo, excellent form, but don’t overthink it. Feel the darkness, don’t analyze it.”

I lose track of time. We’re all sweating and cursing as we try to wrangle these stubborn shadows. Who knew darkness could be such a pain in the ass? Just when I think I mastered one technique, Everett introduces another, more complex formation. The shadows writhe and twist, sometimes obeying, sometimes lashing out with a cold that burns. Each failure feels like a step closer to the doom we’re trying to prevent.

“Shadow shifting isn’t just about manipulating darkness,” Everett explains, pacing the room. The shadows seem to lean toward him, eager for his touch. “It’s about understanding the nature of duality—light and dark, substance and void, seen and unseen.”

He waves his hand, and an intricate shadowgraph appears in the center of the room. It looks like a family tree, but the branches shift and change, names appearing and disappearing in a dizzying dance.

“Your power is tied to your lineage,” Everett says, his voice taking on a somber tone. “The triumphs and tragedies of your ancestors echo through your blood. Some of you may carry the legacy of shadow beasts in your DNA.”

I feel like someone just walked over my grave. Leo looks like he can’t decide if he wants to run away or ask for more details. Matteo has his serious face on, scribbling in his notebook like he’s trying to solve the mysteries of the universe.

“Remember,” Everett says, his eyes boring into each of us, “knowledge is power, but it’s also a burden. The more you understand about your abilities, the greater your responsibility becomes.”

As if to emphasize his point, the shadows in the room pulse, growing deeper and more complex. I swear I hear whispers at the edge of my hearing, secrets just beyond my comprehension.

When Everett finally calls for a break, I’m beat. My brain feels like it’s going to explode with all this new stuff, and I could seriously use a nap. My fingers twitch, unconsciously tracing shadow patterns in the air. I’ve never felt so drained yet so alive.

Leo pulls a thermos from his bag, the rich aroma of coffee filling the air. “Thought we might need a little pick-me-up. After all, we wouldn’t want to be caught napping on the job, would we?” he quips with a wink, his voice a welcome respite from the intensity of our training.

“Now, pay attention,” Everett says, his eyes gleaming with an intensity I’ve never seen before. “We’re going to talk about something that’s not in any of your textbooks—dark bonds.”

He waves his hand, and the shadows in the room coalesce into swirling patterns, almost like a family tree. “Shadow shifting isn’t just about manipulating darkness. It’s about the connections we forge—with each other, with our ancestors, and with the shadows themselves.”

Everett’s voice drops to a grave whisper, his eyes darting to the shadows as if they might be listening. “These bonds? They are not just for show. They come with baggage, both good and bad. All the stuff your family did, all the crap they went through, sticks with you, and sometimes, those marks can become chains, pulling you toward a destiny you never chose.”

A chill runs down my spine, thinking of my own mysterious past. I don’t even know my parents, let alone what happened to them. For all I know, they could be shadow beasts. Leo shifts uncomfortably, and Matteo leans forward, his eyes wide with fascination.

“These dark bonds,” Everett continues, “are not just metaphorical. They are tangible connections that can be strengthened, manipulated, and even severed if necessary. Learning to navigate them is crucial for any shadow shifter who wants to truly master their abilities.”

He demonstrates, drawing tendrils of shadows between his fingers like puppet strings. “Familial bonds are the strongest. They can be a source of immense power, but also great vulnerability. Understanding your family’s history—the triumphs and tragedies—is key to unlocking your full potential.”

For the next hour, Everett teaches us techniques to sense and manipulate these bonds. It’s like learning to see in a new spectrum, becoming aware of invisible threads connecting us to each other and to the shadows themselves.

As we practice, I feel something shift within me. It’s as if a door has been unlocked, revealing a vast, uncharted territory of power and possibility, but with it comes a weight, a sense of the countless lives and choices that have led to this moment.

Everett watches us with a mix of pride and concern. “This is just the beginning,” he says softly. “The path of a shadow shifter is never easy, but understanding these bonds and learning to forge new ones and mend the broken ones, that’s what will see you through the darkness ahead.”

As we lie scattered on the hardwood floor, our minds buzzing with excitement and hunger gnawing at our stomachs, we exchanged glances, knowing that everything changed after taking our first steps into the realm of shadow shifting. The thought of turning back is now a distant memory and as impossible as catching starlight in our hands.

“So,” Everett says, his casual tone belied by the sharpness in his eyes, “have you given any thought to this pack house business? Because let me tell you, it’s about more than just having roommates. It’s about forging bonds that will keep you alive when the shadows come calling.”

The weight of his words settles over us like a heavy cloak. I twist a lock of hair around my finger, a habit I thought I’d outgrown. “It’s a big step,” I say slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve only known each other since the beginning of the fall semester, but after everything...” I trail off, looking at Leo and Matteo. The memory of shadows and danger, of laughter in the face of fear, hangs between us like an unspoken promise.

Leo’s usual smirk softens into something more genuine, a vulnerability I rarely see in him. “Hey, we’ve already survived Everett’s pop quizzes and shadow boot camp. How much worse could living together be?”

Matteo’s brow furrows in concentration, his analytical mind already racing ahead. “Strategically, it makes sense—pooling our resources and coordinating our efforts—but we’d need to establish clear boundaries and protocols. Perhaps a rotating schedule for?—”

“Matteo,” I cut him off gently, unable to suppress a fond smile, “we’re forming a pack, not a military unit.”

He blinks then nods sheepishly. “Right. Sorry. I just... I want us to be prepared.”

Everett watches us, his gaze knowing and ancient. “It’s more than strategy,” he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. “It’s about finding your people, your family. Shadow shifters bond quickly, forged in the crucible of shared danger and power.”

“What?” I frown, feeling like I’m missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

“There is an innate knowing inside you.” Everett taps my chest right over my heart. “One that tells you from the moment of meeting whether or not the person before you is pack.”

Something shifts inside me, a piece clicking into place with an almost audible snap. I look at Leo and Matteo—really look at them. The boy with the ready smile and hidden depths. The brilliant mind always three steps ahead.

My friends.

My pack.

I think back to the first moment we met. I knew they were something to me, I just didn’t understand then because I didn’t have all the information. The realization washes over me like a wave, both terrifying and exhilarating.

Why am I dragging my heels on this?

“Let’s do it,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “But guys, are we sure about this? I mean, it’s a big step.”

Leo grins, but I catch a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Hey, we’ve survived worse, right? How hard can living together be?”

Matteo nods, his brows furrowed. “Statistically speaking, cohabitation does increase the chances of interpersonal conflict. However, the benefits of a unified pack far outweigh the potential drawbacks.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Only you could make moving in together sound like a research paper, Matteo.” I take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this before I chicken out.”

The grins that break out on their faces are answer enough, a mirror to the wild joy and anticipation building in my chest.

“Well then,” Everett says, straightening up with a gleam in his eye, “let’s get you lot officially registered. Fair warning—there’s paperwork involved. Even magic can’t escape bureaucracy. Here, I have some maps.”

As the sun slowly sets, we roll out maps of the island with the small dots of pack houses. Even a dorm is getting converted. We pore over potential locations, debating the merits of each with the intensity of generals planning a campaign.

“This one has personality,” Leo argues, pointing to a ramshackle cottage with a mischievous grin. “Plus, easy access for late-night snack runs. You know, for when shadow shifting gives you the munchies.”

Matteo shakes his head, ever the voice of reason. “Too exposed. We need something defensible, with natural barriers we can magically enhance. Perhaps something closer to the old growth forest?”

I’m about to suggest a compromise when Umbraxis, who has been dozing at my feet, suddenly perks up. He trots to the map, sniffing intently before placing a smoky paw on a spot I hadn’t noticed before—one close to my favorite cove.

We lean in, drawn by the beast’s unexpected input. The house Umbraxis chose is tucked away in a secluded corner of campus, run-down but spacious. Something about it calls to me, a whisper of possibility and destiny.

“Well,” Everett says, his eyebrows raised in surprise, “seems your shadow pup has good taste. That location’s more strategic than it looks—seclusion, accessibility, and some old wards already in place. Interesting choice.”

Umbraxis wags his tail, looking entirely too pleased with himself. I scratch behind his ears, wondering not for the first time just how much he understands.

Excitement pulses in me, a living thing trying to claw its way out of my chest. Now that I’ve made the decision, I need to go now, just in case the weight of everything we’re facing becomes too much and I lose my nerve.

“Let’s go right now.” I gather the map and dart out of the lighthouse, shifting out of the shadow realm as I thunder down the steps and out into the cold air. Leo and Matteo follow, while Umbraxis darts ahead, already knowing where to go.

Luckily, it’s a short walk.

As twilight descends, we stand before our new sanctuary, the keys on the doormat letting us know no one claimed this cottage yet. The old cottage is a hulking silhouette against the blood-red sky. Its weathered boards creak and groan, as if the house itself is awakening. Shadows seem to dance in the windows, beckoning us into their embrace. The air is thick with the scents of aged wood, wild roses, and something older, something that whispers of ancient magic and hidden dangers.

Leo slings an arm around my shoulders, and I try to ignore the way my heart skips. His warmth seeps through my clothes, a stark contrast to the cool evening air. “Home sweet haunted house,” he quips, and I catch a hint of nervousness under his usual bravado.

I glance at Matteo, expecting to feel guilty about my reaction to Leo, but the intensity in Matteo’s gaze as he watches us makes my stomach do a little flip. God, what am I getting myself into, living with both of them?

“Dibs on the room with the least creepy noises. Though with our luck, they probably all come with complementary ghost roommates.” Leo smirks down at me, sending my heart in overdrive.

Matteo’s already in full planning mode, his words coming out fast. “First priority is reinforcing wards, then we’ll need to implement a multi-layered security system. The basement has potential for a training area, and the attic... yes, perfect for a research lab. I’ll draw up a proposal for optimal space utilization and?—”

“Whoa, slow down there, Professor,” Leo cuts in, grinning. “How about we start with figuring out where to put the TV? You know, priorities.”

I can’t help but smile as Matteo rolls his eyes. Some things never change.

I laugh, the sound bright in the quiet evening, a defiant challenge to the encroaching darkness. “Maybe we should start with unpacking. And Leo, I swear, if I find your dirty socks on any surface not explicitly designated for dirty socks, you’re on dish duty for a month.”

“Wow, five minutes in, and you’re already laying down the law.” Leo grins, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “I like it. Very pack leader-esque.”

As we stand here, the three of us and our shadow beast, I feel something I haven’t experienced in years—a sense of belonging. This isn’t how I imagined my time at Shadow Locke, but standing here with my new pack, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s as if the pieces of a puzzle I didn’t even know I was solving have finally clicked into place.

I take a deep breath, the scents of pine and wild roses filling my lungs. The enormity of what we’re doing, of what we’re facing, threatens to overwhelm me for a moment, but then I feel Leo’s and Matteo’s steady presence beside me and the cool brush of Umbraxis against my leg. My pack. My family.

“Well,” I say, squaring my shoulders and meeting their eyes, “I guess we should head in. This place isn’t going to un-haunt itself.”

Leo grins, a spark of his usual mischief returning to his eyes. “Bet you I can find a secret passage before breakfast. Loser buys coffee for a week.”

Matteo rolls his eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. “I’ll take that bet, but only if we agree that my inevitable victory funds go toward proper security equipment.”

“Deal,” Leo says, extending his hand. They shake on it, and just like that, some of the tension dissipates.

We walk in together, not sure what we’re getting into. The key’s old and sticky, but it works. The door makes this horror movie creak when it opens. I half expect to see cobwebs and skeletons inside.

Inside, it’s like someone took an old fancy house and left it to rot. There’s dust everywhere, catching the light coming through the dirty windows. It’s kind of pretty in a creepy way, but beneath the layers of time, I see the potential. With some work, this could be pretty cool. Our own place, you know?

“Home sweet home,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

Leo and Matteo nod, their expressions a mirror of my own. Umbraxis just walks right in like he owns the place. He turns and looks at us, wagging his tail. I swear he’s saying, Come on, slowpokes. Let’s check this place out.

We cross the threshold, leaving the world we knew behind and stepping into a new chapter of our lives. The door closes behind us with a soft thud, and I swear I feel the house come alive around us, welcoming its new guardians.

I have this feeling in my gut that things are about to get really interesting, and probably not in a good way.