Page 100 of Dark Bonds

“How is that possible?” Matteo asks, his voice tight with barely contained excitement and fear. “The implications for genetic inheritance of magical abilities?—”

“Matteo,” Frankie cuts him off gently, her tone brooking no argument. “Let Dorian explain. I have a feeling we’re only scratching the surface of this nightmare.”

Dorian shoots her a grateful look, though it’s tinged with a sadness that makes my heart ache. “It’s complicated. The shadow shifter abilities are unpredictable in me. They arebecoming more and more volatile, feeding off the darkness of the curse. I came here to look for a solution, a way to break free from this legacy of pain and corruption.”

“But?” I prompt, sensing there’s more to the story.

A flicker of something crosses Dorian’s face. “I can do more, much more, but it comes at a price that might be too high for any of us to pay.”

“The curse,” Frankie says, her voice steady despite the tremor I can see in her hands. It’s not a question, but a statement, an acknowledgment of the doom hanging over us all.

Dorian nods, his eyes clouding over with a darkness that seems to dim the lights in the room. “The darkness that was once contained in the painting... It’s part of me now. Always there, always... hungry.” His voice drops to a whisper that seems to echo in the sudden stillness. “Sometimes, I’m not sure where the curse ends and I begin. Sometimes, I’m not sure there’s any difference at all.”

The scent of his fear spikes, sharp and acrid, filling the air with the stench of despair and barely contained violence. I resist the urge to gag and flee from this harbinger of doom we’ve invited into our sanctuary.

“So what exactly can you do?” I ask, partly out of morbid curiosity and partly to distract from the oppressive atmosphere.

Dorian hesitates then holds out his hand. The shadows in the room seem to deepen, coalescing around his fingers like living ink. They twist and writhe, forming shapes—a rose that bleeds black petals, a skull with eyes that follow our every move, a wolf with jaws that snap at the air—before dissolving back into formless darkness that seems to pulse with malevolent life.

“That’s... intense,” I remark, my voice a bit higher than usual, betraying the fear that claws at my insides.

“It’s not just parlor tricks,” Dorian says, his voice tight with a mixture of pride and revulsion. “I can... I can use shadows likedoorways and walk right through them. Sometimes I can make the dark stuff real. Like, your worst nightmares come to life kind of real. It’s as messed up as it sounds.”

A chill runs down my spine at his words, and ice spreads through my veins. Holy crap. That’s something else. Part of me wants to saycool, but the rest of me is screamingrun for your life. This could save our butts or get us all killed. Probably both.

“But you can control it, right?” Frankie asks, her voice gentle but firm, a lifeline in the sea of chaos we’re drowning in.

Dorian’s silence speaks volumes, a confession more damning than any words could be.

“That’s why I’m here,” he finally says, his voice cracking under the strain of his confession. “I need help. I thought I could handle this on my own, but... I can’t. The darkness is getting stronger, and I’m afraid of what might happen if I lose control. Of what I might become. Of what I might do to those I care about.”

The weight of his confession settles over us like a shroud, smothering any last vestiges of hope or normalcy. I look at my packmates, seeing my own mix of emotions reflected in their faces—fear, sympathy, determination, and, beneath it all, a fierce love that burns brighter than any darkness.

Frankie takes a deep breath, and she squares her shoulders, taking on the mantle of leadership that sits so naturally on her. God, she’s beautiful like this—all fierce determination and quiet strength. I catch Matteo’s eye and know he’s thinking the same thing. The air between us crackles with unspoken tension, a reminder of the complicated web we’re all tangled in, but now’s not the time for that particular can of worms. We have bigger fish to fry, or bigger shadows to... whatever. You get the idea.

Frankie’s scent changes, getting that edge to it that means she’s in full alpha mode. It always makes me shiver a bit. The girl has some serious presence when she wants to. “Dorian,” shesays, her voice steady despite the tremor I see in her hands, “thank you for trusting us with this. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been carrying this burden alone.”

She pauses, her gaze sweeping over us before settling back on Dorian with an intensity that makes him flinch. “I’ve made a decision. If you’re willing, I’d like to offer you a place in our pack.”

The hope that blossoms on Dorian’s face is almost painful to witness, a fragile thing that could be crushed with a single wrong word. “You... You’d do that? Even knowing what I am? What I might become? The danger I pose to you all?”

“Because of what you are,” Frankie corrects him gently, her voice carrying a strength that seems to make the foundation of the house tremble. “You’re one of us, Dorian—shadow shifter, cursed heir, whatever label you want to use. You’re family, and family doesn’t abandon each other, no matter how dark the path ahead might be.” Frankie’s voice carries the steel I’ve come to rely on, the same strength that got us through the beast attacks and that whole Nyx fiasco. “We’ve faced some serious shit already—shadow beasts, crazy professors, my own out-of-control powers. Your curse? It’s just another bump in our very weird road.”

I feel my chest swell with pride at her words, even as fear gnaws at my insides. This, right here, is why Frankie is our alpha and why I’d follow her into the depths of hell itself.

“But,” she continues, her voice taking on a tone of quiet authority, “there will be conditions. No more secrets. No more lies. We need to be able to trust each other completely if we’re going to face what’s coming, and we will find a way to break this curse, Dorian, together, even if it kills us all in the process.”

Dorian nods eagerly, tears shimmering in his eyes like liquid shadows. “Of course. Anything. I... Thank you. All of you. I don’t deserve this chance, this... redemption.”

As Dorian’s words hang in the air, I can’t help but feel a maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me—pride in Frankie’s leadership, concern for Dorian’s predicament, and an undercurrent of excitement at the prospect of a new pack member. Beneath it all, though, there’s a nagging worry that we might be signing our own death warrants, inviting a darkness into our lives that we may never be able to banish.

“Well,” I say, plastering on my best reassuring grin even though my heart’s doing the cha-cha in my chest, “welcome to Casa del Chaos, Dorian. We have movie nights, midnight snack runs, and a strict no summoning Cthulhu in the living room policy. Think you can keep your tentacled friends on a leash?”

Dorian lets out a surprised laugh, the sound raw and rusty, as if he’s forgotten how. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders, but the shadows around him seem to pulse and writhe, a reminder of the beast that lurks just beneath his skin. “I’ll do my best, Leo. Though I can’t promise I won’t slip up now and then. The darkness has a mind of its own sometimes.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Matteo chimes in, his voice warm but eyes sharp and calculating. “To catch each other when we fall or to put each other down if we go too far.” The words hang in the air, a promise and a threat rolled into one.

I feel a shiver run down my spine at Matteo’s words, but I push through it. This is what family means in our world—love tempered with the knowledge that we might have to destroy what we hold dear. “Welcome home,” I say, and before I can think better of it, I lunge forward and tackle Dorian to the ground.

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