Page 23 of Dark Bonds

For now,my mission is clear. Simple objectives with complex execution. Just another day in the life of a shadow shifter.

As I move through the darkness toward the fading night, one thought echoes in my mind, a mantra that keeps me focused.

I’ll always find my way back to Frankie, no matter the cost. Our world is nothing more than shadows and beasts, and she’s become my light.

I’ll be damned if I let that light go out.

Chapter 7

Frankie

I jolt awake,my heart racing as shadows dance at the edge of my vision. For a moment, I’m not sure if I’m still dreaming or if the darkness is real. My body aches, a reminder of recent events, but there’s also a lingering warmth, a ghost of Matteo’s embrace from the night before. The contrast is jarring—the comfort of his memory versus the harsh reality of waking up alone. I feel raw and bare, like a nerve ending exposed to the air. Part of me craves Matteo’s presence, his steady strength, and his analytical mind that somehow makes sense of the chaos, but another part, the survivor in me, whispers caution. Attachment is dangerous, and trust is a luxury I can’t afford. The internal conflict leaves me feeling adrift, caught between the desire for connection and the instinct for self-preservation.

The first thing I feel is the emptiness beside me. The warmth that enveloped me through the night is gone, replaced by the cool, impersonal chill of morning air. My eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I’m disoriented. The soft light filtering through the curtains casts a serene glow over the room, a stark contrast to the chaos in my head.

I sit up slowly, my body protesting every movement. Memories from the night before flood my mind—Dorian’sprotective embrace, Matteo’s comforting presence, and the heart-wrenching conversation with Tori. Each memory is like a sharp needle, pricking at the fragile shield I tried to build around myself. The lingering scent of Matteo’s cologne, a mix of pine and something darker, clings to the sheets, a bittersweet reminder of his absence.

“I am stronger than my emotions,” I remind myself, but just as quickly, Valerie’s voice follows,Good girls don’t cry.I clench my fists, a spark of defiance igniting within me. “Well, guess what, Valerie? I’m not just a good girl anymore.”

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I take a moment to gather my thoughts. Matteo’s absence causes a strange ache in my chest, a feeling of loss that I can’t quite explain. I know he stayed with me all night, watching over me even when I didn’t know it, and now he’s gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the ever-present nightmares that cling to me like a second skin.

I glance around the room, noting the small details that bring a sense of comfort—the soft throw blanket draped over the chair, the framed photos on the dresser, and the faint scent of lavender.

These are Tori’s touches, reminders of the friendship that has somehow survived despite secrets and betrayals. There’s even a picture of us. I have no idea when she took it, but I feel distant from the young women smiling in the picture. It’s a far cry from our sparse dorm room at the academy, where textbooks on code sit alongside novels and fashion magazines.

What catches my attention most is Matteo’s lingering scent on the pillow next to me. I find myself leaning into it, inhaling deeply. It’s comforting and terrifying all at once. He has quickly become a source of solace for me. The realization makes my heart race with a cocktail of longing and fear.

Pushing myself to my feet, I shuffle toward the bathroom, wincing as the cool tiles meet my bare soles. The mirror reflects a face I barely recognize—pale, drawn, and eyes shadowed with exhaustion and something deeper, a persistent fear that refuses to let go.

“Let it go, Frankie,” I whisper to my reflection. As I say it, I notice a flicker of determination in my eyes, a spark of the girl who survived Valerie’s torment.

I splash water on my face, trying to wash away the remnants of the nightmares that cling to me. Valerie’s face haunts me, her cruel smile a constant reminder of the darkness I’ve endured, but as I look into my own eyes, I see a glimmer of something else—strength. It’s the resolve not to just survive, but to thrive. I wonder briefly if I could use my emerging shadow abilities to shield my mind from these invasive memories. Professor Blackwood mentioned something about mental barriers in last week’s psychic defense class.

With a deep breath, I step into the bedroom. The soft rustle of paper catches my attention, and I find a note on the nightstand. Matteo’s handwriting is unmistakable, bold and steady.

Frankie, I had to leave early, but I’ll be back. You’re safe here. Rest and heal. I’m only a shadow away.

Matteo

A small smile tugs at my lips despite the turmoil inside me. His words are a promise and a lifeline that I desperately need. I tuck the note into my pocket, letting the warmth of his words seep into my heart. For a moment, I recall the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the strength in his arms when he held me, then I shake my head, reminding myself of the secrets he kept.

After dressing in the muumuu Tori gave me last night, I head downstairs. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through theair, leading me to the kitchen where Tori is bustling about, her back to me.

“Morning,” I say softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turns, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Morning, Frankie. How are you feeling?”

I hesitate, searching for the right words. “Better, I think.” I prod at my scars that only ache slightly, but they are nowhere near as painful as they were. “Thanks for last night.”

Tori nods, her eyes full of understanding. “Anytime.”

I take a seat at the kitchen island. “It’s… a lot to process.”

She places a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, sitting down across from me. “Take your time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

I wrap my hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my cold fingers. As I take a sip, I instantly think of Leo and his coffee puns. The memory brings a smile to my lips, quickly followed by a pang of anxiety. These guys—Leo, Matteo, Bishop, and Dorian—are becoming important to me—maybe too important. The thought of letting them in, of being vulnerable with them, sends a wave of panic through me. What if they hurt me like Valerie did? What if I’m not strong enough to survive that kind of betrayal again?

Fuck it.

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