Page 63 of Dark Bonds

As we exit Blackwood’s office, a sense of unease settles in my stomach. The darkness enveloping us whispers eerie secrets, and I feel a sudden desire to comprehend their cryptic messages.

I pause in the deserted hallway, catching my breath before speaking. “Dorian,” I begin, “I need to know the truth about my abilities, Blackwood’s motives… everything.”

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and something else—something that gives me hope. “We’ll find the answers, Frankie, together, but we need to be careful. Don’t trust a single person.”

I never did.

“Okay,” I say, my voice stronger now. “Where do we start?”

Dorian’s lips curl into a small, enigmatic smile. “With a book. It always begins with a book.”

His words break the tension, and a smile plays on my lips. “Speaking of…” I trail off. “Bishop was asking about the library.”

“Of course he was. He’s been itching to get in there for a while now.” He shakes his head. “I’ll text him.” He pauses on the walkway, the cold air burning my lungs.

“You really think we’ll find answers in a book?”

“Don’t doubt me, Francesca.” Dorian gives me a cocky grin that curls my toes. “You can find anything in a book.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if we are still on for our lunches, but for some reason, I don’t.

As we head toward the library, I feel the weight of the decision I just made, but beneath the fear, there’s a spark of excitement. For the first time since coming to Shadow Locke, I feel like I’m taking control of my destiny.

The shadows around us seem to pulse with anticipation as we walk, and I can’t help but wonder if they are reacting to my determination or if something darker is at play.

Only time will tell.

Chapter 20

Frankie

The chillof the library’s basement seeps through my sweater as Dorian and I descend the worn steps. Our footsteps echo in the quiet. So much has changed since we first started coming down here. I trail behind Dorian, my mind racing with questions I’m not sure I want answers to.

“Watch your step, Francesca,” Dorian murmurs, his intense gaze flickering back to me. Even in the dim light, I can sense his brooding energy, coiled and ready to spring.

“You know, I wasn’t supposed to be at Shadow Locke,” Dorian says suddenly. “I was at Nightshade Academy first, going through their library.” He glances up, a wry smile on his face. “But their collection paled in comparison to what’s here. When I tried to transfer, though…” He trails off, his expression darkening. “Let’s just say my family name isn’t exactly welcome in some circles. It took a lot of convincing—and probably some strings pulled by Blackwood—to get me here.” I catch a glimpse of old pain in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it.”

My mouth opens and closes, and I choose to say the first thing that comes to me. “Well…” I take a breath of musty air. “I’m glad you are here.”With me.

Our usual alcove comes into view, a hidden sanctuary in this labyrinth of ancient tomes. The stuffy smell of old books hits me. It’s weirdly comforting, like an old friend I’m not sure I should trust anymore. How many hours have I spent here, blissfully unaware of the secrets lurking in the shadows?

It’s been a long couple of months since I’ve been in the real Shadow Locke library. I’d forgotten how peaceful and magical it is down here, filled with books written by those who came long before me—those who may have gone through exactly what I’ve had to go through up to this point.

Maybe there is something to be said about Dorian’s little quip about always finding answers in books, and even if we don’t find anything we’re looking for, I get to spend time with Bishop and Dorian.

I’ll never admit that, of course. I’m still supposed to be mad at them, and yet so much has happened that it feels like that version of me no longer exists. I don’t want to just forget it, and I don’t want to excuse their behavior—or hell, even mine—but I’m ready to work past it.

As we approach our usual alcove, I catch sight of Bishop already there, poring over an ancient-looking tome. He glances up as we advance, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Frankie, Dorian, you won’t believe what I’ve found,” he says, his voice low but intense. “There are references here to shadow beasts, creatures of immense power tied to the very fabric of our realm.” He turns the book toward us, revealing intricate drawings of beings that look disturbingly similar to the eredar beast we encountered. “These texts are thousands of years old,” Bishop continues, “but they describe something eerily familiar, don’t they?”

I exchange a glance with Dorian, a chill running down my spine.

“Francesca.” Dorian’s voice cuts through my thoughts, low and urgent. “We need to start looking now. Every second counts.”

I nod, pulling myself back to the present. “Right. Let’s get to it.” Bishop scans the shelves, trailing his fingers along the spines of ancient books with practiced ease. He’s probably looking for more like the one he just mentioned. The sight of him, so focused and determined, stirs something within me. Maybe it’s admiration, or maybe it’s something more.

“Where do we even begin?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The vastness of the library suddenly feels overwhelming.

I look longingly at the baskets of snacks and sodas lining a bookshelf that Dorian brought in. All my favorites are there—chocolate Pop-Tarts, salty pretzel twists, and even my favorite mango peach juice.

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