Page 17 of Dark Bonds

Just when I thought I was free…

“Is she…” My voice trembles, and the question hangs in the air between us, heavy with implications. I hold my breath, both dreading and needing his answer in equal measure.

“No,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. The single word is a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge of panic. “That’s enough for now. Will you accept my comfort? Sleep, and I shall chase away all your nightmares.”

The offer is so tempting. I want to say no. I want to push him away and protect myself from more hurt, but exhaustion weighs heavily on me, and the promise of safety, even if it’s temporary, is too alluring to resist.

I nod because I’m fucking weak. I lie back down, knowing everything is complicated and he probably won’t be here in the morning.

That’s okay.

I don’t know if I will be here either.

Survival means always being ready to run.

As I close my eyes, I feel Matteo’s arms tighten around me, his presence a silent promise that, at least for tonight, I am not alone. In that small comfort, I find a semblance of peace amidst the chaos of my mind.

The room around us settles into a hushed quiet, broken only by the soft sounds of our breathing, and the sheets beneath me are cool and smooth. In the darkness, I can only make out the vague shapes of furniture—a dresser, a chair, the outline of a window with curtains gently swaying in the night breeze.

As sleep tugs at the edges of my consciousness, my senses seem to sharpen. Matteo’s arm drapes across my waist, heavy and warm. The steady rhythm of his breathing against my back should be soothing, but it sets my nerves on edge. I’m hyperaware of every point where our bodies touch, each a potential threat or comfort—I’m not sure which anymore.

The pillow smells of generic laundry detergent, a scent that should be neutral but now feels cloying. It mingles with Matteo’s cinnamon cologne, creating a blend that’s oddly comforting yet makes my stomach churn. My mind races, trying to reconcile the comfort I feel with the danger I know lurks in trust.

A car passes outside, its headlights briefly illuminating the room. The shadows dance across the walls, and for a heart-stopping moment, I swear I see a figure standing in the corner. I blink, and it’s gone. It’s just my imagination, right?

Matteo shifts slightly, his breath warm against my neck. I tense, waiting for… something. An attack? A revelation? Nothing comes except the maddening tick of a distant clock and the wild pounding of my own heart.

It’s strange how comfort can feel so foreign yet so necessary, and how necessity can feel like a trap.

Just before I drift off completely, a fleeting thought crosses my mind—am I dreaming this? Is Matteo really here, or is this just another trick of my traumatized brain?

Then he shifts slightly, his breath warm against the nape of my neck, and I know this is real. For better or worse, this moment is real.

As consciousness fades, I make a silent promise to myself. Tomorrow, I’ll start demanding answers. I’ll confront the truth about who I am, and this world of shadow shifters I’ve been thrust into. For now, though, I’ll allow myself this brief respite from the storm of my life.

The last thing I’m aware of before sleep takes me is the gentle thrum of Matteo’s heartbeat, steady and strong, that seems to whisper, “You’re safe. You’re not alone.”

For the first time in years, I believe it.

Tomorrow may bring chaos, but tonight, I’ll cling to this peace. As I drift off, I can’t help but wonder what other secrets liehidden in the shadows, waiting to be revealed. What other parts of myself have I yet to discover?

The questions swirl in my mind, but for now, they are muted by the comfort of Matteo’s presence. In this moment, I’m not a survivor, a victim, or a shadow shifter—I’m just Frankie finding solace in the arms of someone who seems to genuinely care.

And maybe that’s enough for now.

As I finally drift off, teetering on the edge of sleep, a sound cuts through the silence—a soft tap at the window. My eyes snap open, my heart racing. There, silhouetted against the moonlight, is a familiar figure—a figure I hoped never to see again.

Valerie.

Her lips curve into that sickly sweet smile I know all too well as she raises a finger to her lips.

“Shh, little shadow,” she whispers, her voice carrying through the glass. “It’s time to come home.”

Chapter 5

Frankie

The shadowsin my room writhe and twist, forming grotesque shapes that vanish when I blink. My mind is a labyrinth of dark corridors, each turn revealing a new horror. I’ve weathered storms before and adapted to new worlds, but this… this feels different.

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