Page 101 of Dark Bonds

The moment we hit the floor, I realize my mistake. Dorian’s body goes rigid beneath me, and the temperature in the room plummets. Shadows explode outward from his form, writhing tendrils that reach for me with hungry, grasping fingers. Whenhis eyes meet mine, they are as black as pitch, endless voids that threaten to swallow me whole.

“Leo!” Frankie’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp with fear and command. “Get back!”

I scramble away, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Dorian remains on the floor, his body convulsing as he fights for control. The shadows dance around him, forming nightmarish shapes—snarling beasts, reaching hands, and faces twisted in eternal agony.

“I’m sorry,” Dorian rasps between clenched teeth. “I can’t... I can’t control it. You need to... to...”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Frankie says firmly, though I can smell the fear rolling off her in waves. She takes a step toward Dorian, her hand outstretched. “Fight it, Dorian. You’re stronger than this curse. You’re one of us now.”

Matteo moves to flank her, his body tense and ready for action. I pull myself to my feet, ignoring the trembling in my limbs. We form a protective circle around Dorian, a living barrier between him and the rest of the world.

“Remember who you are,” Matteo says, his voice low and steady. “You’re not just the curse. You’re Dorian Gray, shadow shifter, scholar, and friend. Focus on that.”

I watch in awe as Dorian’s body arches, a silent scream tearing from his throat. The shadows around him pulse and throb, as if caught between two worlds, and then, slowly, painfully, they begin to recede. Color returns to Dorian’s face, and his eyes, when they open, are their normal stormy gray.

“I... I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to... I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t,” Frankie says softly, kneeling beside him. She reaches out, hesitates for a moment, then places her hand on his shoulder. “You fought it. You won.”

“This time,” Dorian says bitterly. “But what about next time? Or the time after that? I’m a ticking time bomb, Frankie. You should run while you still can.”

I feel a laugh bubble up in my throat, slightly hysterical but genuine. “Buddy, if we ran from every ticking time bomb that walked through our door, we’d have no pack at all. Have you met us? We’re all disasters waiting to happen.”

Matteo nods, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “Leo’s right for once. We all have our demons, Dorian. Yours are just a bit more... tangible than most.”

Frankie helps Dorian to his feet, her touch gentle but firm. “This is what pack means, Dorian. We face our demons together, no matter how dark they might be.”

As Dorian leans into Frankie’s touch, and Matteo’s eyes soften with understanding, I feel that weird connection between us all. It’s like an invisible rubber band, stretching and snapping into place, and it’s stronger now with Dorian.

And yet darker.

In this moment, I know that nothing will ever be the same.

We just let a walking curse into our pack. It’s crazy, but hey, maybe that’s our brand of normal. Maybe it’s exactly the kind of crazy we need, because in this world of shadows and secrets, sometimes the only way to fight the darkness is to embrace it.

As we settle back into the living room, the tension slowly bleeding away, I can’t help but wonder what new horrors tomorrow will bring. For now, though, we’re together, we’re pack, and come hell or high water, we’ll face whatever comes next as one.

Even if it kills us all.

Chapter 32

Frankie

I gripthe steering wheel of my red Jeep, my knuckles white against the worn leather. The road to Morrow Bay feels different now, like I’m walking a tightrope between my old life and this new shadow shifter craziness that’s taken over. How long before everything goes to hell and I’m caught in the middle?

Months have passed since I discovered my true nature as a shadow shifter, and still, the weight of this new identity sits heavily on my shoulders, a crown of darkness I never asked to wear.

Only months ago, I worked hard to stash cash away in a small safe provided to me by the school. Though I still have that money, the old impulse to keep it growing drives me across the bridge to the Grotto.

As I pull into the Grotto’s parking lot, the salty breeze carries the scent of the ocean, mingling with the ever-present aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries from the cafe next door. I inhale deeply, letting the familiar scents calm my frayed nerves, but beneath it all, I catch a whiff of something darker, earthier—the scent of shadows, always lingering just beyond the edge of normal perception.

The sun’s going down, making these crazy long shadows. I swear they are moving when I look at them. The air is thick with the briny scent of the nearby ocean. Seagulls cry in the distance, their harsh calls a counterpoint to the soft indie rock spilling from the Grotto’s open windows. I can almost taste the salt on my tongue and feel the rough texture of the shadows as they brush against my skin like living things.

I clench my fists, willing them to be still. Not here. Not now.

Breathing deeply, I calm my nerves and walk inside the dimly lit bar.

I find Andi wiping down tables, her curly hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looks up as the bell above the door chimes, and a warm smile spreads across her face, crinkling the corners of her eyes.

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