Page 109 of Dark Bonds

For a long moment, we sit in tense silence, neither willing to back down. The ticking of an unseen clock counts out the seconds, each one stretching into eternity. Then, Blackwood sighs, seeming to deflate slightly.

“The truth, Francesca,” he says, leaning forward with an intensity that makes me want to shrink back, “is that a cataclysm approaches. The veil between the human world and the shadow realm frays, and when it tears…” He pauses, his eyes boring into mine. “Well, let’s just say that those who aren’t prepared will be swept away in the flood of darkness.”

“And let me guess, you’re here to tell me which side that is?” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice, sharp enough to cut.

Blackwood’s smile returns, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. They remain cold and calculating. “I’m here to warn you. Untamed shadow powers are a dangerous thing. They consume, Francesca, and destroy. Without proper guidance, you could lose yourself entirely. Just look at what happened to your mother.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. My mother? What does he know about her? The shadows around me roil and surge, reacting to my shock and confusion.

A chill runs down my spine, but I refuse to let him see how his words affect me. The shadows whisper at the edges of my consciousness temptingly.

Is that concern in his eyes, or am I just seeing what I want to see?

“Thanks for the warning. Is that all?” I keep my voice level, but inside, my mind races with implications and possibilities.

He studies me for a long moment then nods. “For now, but remember, Ms. Vale—my door is always open. When the storm breaks, you’ll need allies. Choose them wisely.”

I stand, my legs shaky but my resolve firm. The chair scrapes against the floor, the sound harsh in the silence. As I turn to leave, Blackwood calls out one last time.

“Oh, and Francesca?” Blackwood’s tone is deceptively casual. “Do give my regards to Dorian. I’m sure he’s finding his… living arrangements quite enlightening. After all, blood is thicker than water… or shadows.”

My blood runs cold. How does he know about Dorian living with us? And what’s he implying about blood? I think of Dorian’s curse and his struggle with his heritage. Does Blackwood know something about that too? God, it’s like he’s always ten steps ahead, and I’m just fumbling in the dark. I don’t respond, simply nodding curtly before stepping out of his office.

The hallway feels too bright and normal after the intensity of that encounter. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, their harsh glare a stark contrast to the shadows that still cling to me, reluctant to retreat fully beneath my skin.

My mind races, trying to process everything I learned. As I make my way out of the building, the weight of Blackwood’s warnings and the secrets still left uncovered press down on me, creating a suffocating blanket of doubt and fear.

What am I going to tell the others? How much danger are we really in? And what did he mean about my mother?

Lost in thought, I don’t notice the figure approaching until it’s too late. The click of heels on tile breaks through my reverie. I look up, and my heart stops, the world grinding to a halt around me.

Valerie.

Her smile, once warm and comforting, now sends ice through my veins. The shadows are getting darker. It’s like they can sense how messed up Valerie is. My breath catches in my throat, memories of pain and betrayal flooding back in a dizzying rush.

“Hello, Francesca,” she purrs, her voice a silken noose as her fingertips trace an icy path along my arm. The shadows beneath my skin recoil at her touch, hissing and spitting like angry cats. “It’s been far too long. We have so much to catch up on, don’t we?”

Chapter 35

Frankie

Everything blursexcept Valerie’s face. It’s all I can see, all I can focus on. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat screaming danger, and the sounds of the present fade away like mist before the sun. I feel dizzy, and my legs are shaking so badly I think I might fall.

Suddenly, I’m not here anymore. I’m back there, in that room, reliving a nightmare I’ve tried so hard to forget...

The room materializes around me,its soft pink walls a sickening parody of innocence. Shadows writhe and pulse in the corners, as if the darkness is alive and hungry. The air feels thick, charged with malevolent energy that makes my skin crawl. The bed looks huge, like it’s going to swallow me up. Those metal bars feel like a cage. Its cold bars press against my skin, leaving imprints like brands of ownership.

I’m back in hell after a delicious respite, after tasting freedom, and now… now I’m chained again.

The air is heavy with a miasma of conflicting sensations. I can smell Valerie’s perfume, but there’s something else, something that makes me want to gag. Beneath it, the sharpbite of antiseptic burns my throat. The constant hum of fluorescent lights grates against my ears, while the taste of fear, metallic and bitter, coats my tongue. Even the shadows seem to have weight, pressing against my skin like a cold, damp shroud.

“There’s my girl,” Valerie coos, her fingers tracing patterns on my arm. Her touch is gentle, almost loving, but I know better now. I’ve learned the hard way that gentleness is just another weapon in her arsenal, as sharp and deadly as any blade.

I try to speak, but my throat is dry, my tongue heavy and useless in my mouth. How long has it been since I’ve had water? Days blur into weeks, maybe months. In this shadowed hell, time stretches and warps like the shadows themselves. How long have I been here? Days? Weeks? Not knowing is driving me crazy.

Valerie’s smile widens, predatory and cold. Her teeth gleam in the harsh light, too white, too perfect. “You did so well today, Francesca. Mr. Jameson was very pleased.”

The name sends a shudder through me, ice flooding my veins. Mr. Jameson, with his meaty hands and sour breath. He looked at me like I was a piece of meat to be devoured, his eyes roaming over me with a hunger that made me want to claw my skin off. I close my eyes tight, trying not to remember, but it’s stuck in my head. I can’t get it out.

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