33. Bishop

Chapter 33

Bishop

My fingers trace the spine of a volume so old it threatens to crumble, the scent of musty parchment and melting wax a bittersweet comfort in the chaos of my fractured world.

Frankie’s face burns in my mind—her fierce determination and the raw agony in her eyes when she discovered the depths of my betrayal. I feel sick with guilt. It’s eating me up inside, and I can’t shake it off. It’s been consuming me for weeks, a constant reminder of how spectacularly I’ve shattered everything.

And I’ve done nothing but ignore her.

“There has to be a way to fix this,” I mutter to myself. The silence in my study is deafening. The worn carpet beneath my feet bears witness to countless hours of torment, of searching for redemption in a realm that only offers more damnation.

The room feels heavy, like the darkness is closing in. It’s like everything’s watching and waiting for me to screw up again. Shadows writhe in the corners of my vision, a constant reminder of the power that courses through my veins—power I’ve only begun to comprehend, both terrifying and intoxicating me.

Power amplified by my love for Frankie, a fact I noticed last semester.

As if in answer to my desperate plea, my gaze falls upon an ornate medallion nestled among the detritus of my research. The symbol of the guardians—ancient protectors of the shadow realm and its inhabitants—pulses with an otherworldly light, calling to something primal and dangerous within me. A thought takes root, growing and twisting until it becomes a decision that both exhilarates and condemns me.

I need to find Frankie. Now.

My hands shake as I gather my coat, and my mouth tastes like pennies. I’m so nervous, I could puke. The drive to the Grotto is a blur of streetlights and racing thoughts, the cool night air whipping through the open window doing little to calm the storm raging inside me.

Am I just jumping from one mess into another? The weight of the guardian’s oath already presses down on me, a promise of both salvation and damnation.

When I arrive, the warmth of the Grotto hits me like a wall, driving back the chill that seems to have seeped into my soul. I smell beer, salt, and whiskey, but there’s something else too, something... off—a hint of ozone, of power barely contained. It’s as if the air knows something is about to irrevocably change.

The low hum of conversation blends with the distant crash of waves, while the rough texture of the weathered bar beneath my fingers grounds me in this moment of impending chaos.

And there she is.

Frankie’s behind the bar, moving so fast she’s practically a blur. She’s mixing drinks like a pro, her hands moving so swiftly I can barely keep up. A silver shaker flashes through the air, spinning once, twice, before landing perfectly in her waiting hand. Her laugh rings out, bright and sharp as breaking glass, but as she turns, I catch the tightness at the corners of her eyes and the way her smile falters when she thinks no one’s looking.

“Frankie.” Her name escapes my lips like a prayer, barely audible over the pounding of my treacherous heart. She turns, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, the world stops spinning. “I... Can we talk?”

Surprise and wariness flicker across her face like shadows in candlelight. After a moment’s hesitation that feels like an eternity, she nods and calls to her coworker to cover for her, sliding a freshly mixed drink across the bar to a waiting customer.

We step outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the suffocating warmth of the bar. Frankie crosses her arms, her posture a fortress against further devastation. “What is it, Bishop?”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. The salty breeze carries the faint scent of her wildflower perfume, a painful reminder of happier times that now feel like a distant dream. “Frankie, I... Gods, I’ve royally fucked up. All those secrets I kept? I thought I was shielding you, but I just ended up pushing you into the line of fire. I owe you more than an apology, but it’s a start.”

Frankie’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting this raw honesty. Her fingers tap against her arm, a telltale sign of her mind working overtime to process my words. “Bishop, I?—”

“Please,” I interrupt gently, my words as fragile as spun glass. “Let me finish. I was wrong, Frankie. I should have trusted you with the truth from the beginning—about the shadow realm, about your heritage, about... everything. I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

The emotion in my voice catches her off guard. Her arms uncross, and her stance softens like ice thawing in spring. “Why now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes search mine, probing for hidden truths or any sign of deception. “What changed?”

The shadows around us seem to deepen, as if eager to hear my response. I swear I can feel them pressing against my skin, testing for weaknesses, waiting to devour us both.

“I’ve been going back and forth on this for weeks,” I say, looking her in the eye. “It’s been driving me crazy.”

I pause, clearing my throat when she doesn’t say anything more.

“After everything happened, I realized I needed to do more, so I made a decision. I’m going to become a guardian,” I say, watching her reaction carefully. “It’s... It’s not an easy path, Frankie. The guardians are ancient, older than Shadow Locke itself. They are the ones who’ve been holding back the decay of our realm, fighting things that would make shadow beasts look like puppies.” I run a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the decision. “It means giving up teaching and dedicating my life to protecting our world. The oath changes you, binding you to the shadow realm in ways I don’t fully understand yet, but if it means I can keep you—keep everyone safe, then it’s worth it.”

Frankie’s brow furrows, confusion and curiosity warring in her expression. Her fingers twitch, as if itching to solve this new puzzle I’ve presented. “A guardian? What does that mean exactly? And why now, Bishop?”

“I just… Fuck, I just need to do more. The guardians have been around for centuries. They’ve been doing all they can to push the decay back, to push the beasts back, and I want to be a part of something amazing.” As I speak, I can see the wheels turning in Frankie’s mind, her quick intellect processing this new information with a speed that both impresses and terrifies me.

“It’s dangerous, isn’t it?” she asks, a hint of concern coloring her voice. Her eyes narrow, that sharp mind of hers already connecting dots. “There’s more to this than you’re telling me.”

I nod, unable to lie to her again. “It’s dangerous, yes, and lately, I’ve been having these dreams... Gods, Frankie, they are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The point is, it’s not a decision I’ve made lightly, but it’s a chance to make a difference and to protect you and the others in a way I should have been all along.”

Frankie falls silent, her expression as unreadable as a still pond. After what feels like an eternity, she speaks. “I get it, Bishop, I really do, but every time I think I understand what’s going on, another bombshell drops. How am I supposed to trust you when I feel like I’m constantly walking through a minefield of your secrets?”

The weight of my actions settles on my shoulders, heavy as a gravestone. “I know,” I reply, reaching into my pocket. “That’s why I want you to have this.”

I pull out an intricately carved wooden puzzle box, its surface etched with shadow realm symbols that seem to writhe in the dim light. It’s similar to the ones I’ve given her before, but this one’s different, more complex and revealing. My heart races as I wonder if she’ll solve this one as quickly as the others and finally unravel the twisted knot of my soul.

Frankie takes it, her fingers tracing the patterns with a reverence that makes my heart ache. The tension between us is so thick you could cut it with a knife. There’s so much we need to say but can’t.

“Inside is a letter,” I explain, my voice rough with emotion. “It’s everything I’ve wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. My regrets, my hopes... All of it. When you’re ready, I hope you’ll read it, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Frankie nods, clutching the box to her chest like a lifeline. For a moment, I see a flicker of the old Frankie in her eyes—the one who used to look at me like I hung the moon. It makes my heart ache with a pain so sharp I can barely breathe.

“Bishop,” she says softly, and gods, the way she says my name still makes my pulse race. “I... I can’t pretend this doesn’t change things, but...” She bites her lip, and I have to force myself not to stare. “Just... be careful, okay? Whatever this guardian thing is, whatever’s happening with the shadow realm, don’t you dare get yourself killed trying to play the hero.”

Her words, tinged with a concern she can’t quite hide, give me a spark of hope I know I don’t deserve. “I won’t,” I promise, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “I have too much to live for.”

Cass shows up, killing the moment.

“Bishop!” she calls out, striding toward us with the confidence of a lioness. “I just heard about your decision to join the guardians. I think it’s brilliant!”

I watch as Frankie tenses, her grip on the puzzle box tightening until her knuckles turn white. There’s a flash of something in her eyes before she masks it with a neutral expression that would fool anyone but me.

“Cass,” I greet, suddenly aware of the tension crackling in the air like static electricity. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Cass grins, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the somber mood. “Well, when I heard the news, I had to come congratulate you in person. Oh, and to fill you in on our little side project, of course.”

Frankie’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing. “Side project?”

I wince internally, knowing this isn’t how I wanted to broach the subject. “It’s... complicated,” I begin, but Cass, oblivious to the delicate balance, barrels on.

“Oh, it’s absolutely thrilling!” Cass gushes, her eyes shining with excitement. I wince, knowing this isn’t how I wanted Frankie to find out.

“Cass, maybe we should—” I start, but she’s already talking.

“We’ve been tracking these incredible shadow realm fluctuations,” she continues. “It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. The boundaries between realms are... well, they are almost fluid.”

I watch Frankie’s expression darken, her fingers tightening on the puzzle box. Damn it. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.

“And you didn’t think this was something the rest of us should know about?” Frankie’s voice is sharp enough to cut glass.

Cass continues, undeterred. “We think there might be a way to stabilize the boundaries between realms, maybe even prevent more eredar beasts from crossing over. Don’t you think it’s exciting, Frankie?”

I need to intervene. “We believe someone is controlling it.” I glare at Cass, mentally willing her to shut up. “We didn’t want it to get out and have anyone accuse anyone.”

I watch as Frankie’s expression cycles through surprise, hurt, and finally a determined curiosity that I recognize all too well. Her fingers drum against the puzzle box, a rhythm that speaks of barely contained energy. “And when were you planning on telling the rest of us about this?” she asks, her voice as tight as a bowstring.

“We wanted to have more information first,” I explain hastily, feeling like I’m trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. “We wanted to be sure before we got anyone’s hopes up.”

Frankie nods slowly, but I can see the walls going up behind her eyes, brick by brick. “Right. Well, don’t let me keep you from your secret mission planning.”

She turns to leave, but I reach out, gently catching her arm. The warmth of her skin against my fingers sends a jolt through me, like touching a live wire. “Frankie, wait. Please.”

She pauses, looking back at me with a mixture of emotions I can’t quite decipher—a tempest barely contained behind those fierce eyes.

“I know I have a lot to make up for,” I say, my voice rougher than I’d like. Gods, how do I make her understand? The weight of my mistakes feels like it’s crushing me. “Frankie, I... I’ve been such a fool. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was push you away, and now...” I trail off, the words sticking in my throat like tar. “But I want you to know that everything I’m doing—becoming a guardian, this mission with Cass—it’s all to keep you safe… to keep all of you safe, even if it means sacrificing everything I am.”

Frankie’s expression softens slightly, like the sun breaking through storm clouds. “I understand, Bishop. I do. It’s just... a lot to process. How can I trust that there aren’t more secrets waiting to be uncovered? How can I trust that you won’t shatter me all over again?”

I nod, releasing her arm and immediately missing the contact. “Take all the time you need. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here. No more secrets, I promise, even if it kills me.”

As Frankie walks away, the puzzle box clutched to her chest like a shield, I feel a mix of hope and trepidation. The path ahead is fraught with danger and uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.

Have I just pushed her further into the darkness I’m trying to protect her from? The thought chills me more than any shadow beast ever could.

Cass sidles up next to me, her excitement palpable in the air between us. “So, shall we go over the mission details? I have some fascinating theories about the shadow fluctuations!”

I take one last look at Frankie’s retreating form before turning to Cass with a nod. “Yes, let’s, but first, we need to talk about how we’re going to involve the others. No more secrets, Cass. It’s time we all worked together.”

As we walk toward my car, I feel the weight of the guardian’s medallion in my pocket. It’s a reminder of the oath I’m about to take, not just to the shadow realm, but to Frankie and all those I’ve let down. This time, I won’t fail them.

The future is uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, I feel ready to face whatever challenges it may bring.

The shadows seem to pulse around us, as if the night is alive with possibility... and danger. Somewhere in the depths of my soul, I feel an answering call—a siren song of power and sacrifice that threatens to consume me entirely.