Page 79 of Dark Bonds

As lunch draws to a close, a thought occurs to me. “What about Amanda and Chloe? They saw something. What if they talk?”

Leo and Matteo exchange a glance. “Leave them to us,” Leo says, a hint of steel in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “We’ll make sure they keep quiet.”

I want to ask how, but something in their expressions stops me. There’s a lot I still don’t know about the shadow shifter world and the boys themselves, but right now, I’m just grateful to have allies in this strange new reality.

As we part ways for our afternoon classes, I feel a mix of dread and anticipation building in my chest. In just a few short hours, I’m going to try to access a realm that everyone keeps telling me is home.

Home. Something I haven’t ever really had.

“Remember,” Matteo says as we’re about to separate, his voice low and serious, “we’ve got you, but Frankie... be careful. There are things in the shadow realm that even we don’t understand—things that would love to get their hands on someone with your power.” His words send a chill down my spine, but before I can ask what he means, Leo throws an arm around my shoulders, his grin a little too bright.

“Don’t worry,” Leo says, “we won’t let anything bad happen. Probably.” He winks, but there’s something in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his carefree tone. Great. More secrets. Just what I need.

He doesn’t finish because Matteo swats him.

I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as my stomach churns with nerves. As I watch them walk away, I’m struck by how quickly everything has changed. This morning, I was just another student at Shadow Locke. Now, I’m on the brink of exploring powers that defy explanation.

Chapter 25

Dorian

I’m staringout the window again, watching the snow pile up. It’s all white and gray out there, the wind howling like it has a personal vendetta against me. I perch on the sill, one leg dangling precariously over the edge, my ghostly eyes fixed on the abyss below. The scent of aged paper clings to me like a second skin, a reminder of the endless hours I’ve spent lost in the musty tomes scattered around my prison of a room.

Forever.

God, I hate that word. It rattles around in my chest, mocking me. It’s not just a long time—it’s an eternity of watching everyone else move on while I’m stuck here, same as always.

Here I am, frozen at twenty-two forever. Everyone else gets to grow old and die, but me? I’m just... here—a monster playing dress-up in a college kid’s body. It’s exhausting.

Uncle Everett’s voice, dripping with centuries of mischief and pain, whispers in the darkest corners of my memory. “That’s the fear of forever, kid. Immortality survives in time only. The mind can’t handle it—can’t even fathom it.” His words are a dagger, twisting in the wound of my eternal existence.

A wry smile tugs at my pouty lips, a mockery of joy. Uncle always has a way of stating the obvious with the subtlety ofa battering ram, hammering home the truths we both try so desperately to ignore.

The sudden groan of my door shatters my brooding, and there he stands, Uncle Everett, in all his irreverent glory, munching on what appears to be...

“Are those chickpeas?” I ask, my tone holding a mixture of curiosity and disdain, two emotions forever at war within me.

He grins, chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth like a child’s messy secret. “Chocolate-covered chickpeas,” he declares, rattling the bag with a flourish. “Brought you some for when you’re done contemplating the great abyss. Or was it moping? I can never tell with you.”

I turn back to the window, letting the icy wind bite at my skin, a futile attempt to feel something. “I’m pondering the intricacies of our eternal existence,” I mutter, the words heavy with the weight of centuries. “The burden of forever that threatens to crush us all beneath its merciless heel.”

“Ah, yes.” Everett chuckles, the sound hollow and brittle. “Back in my day, we didn’t have time for such lofty musings. We were too busy dodging saber-toothed tigers and inventing the wheel. Simpler times, really. Just survival and the occasional existential crisis.”

I’m about to retort when a heavy thud behind me catches my attention—suitcases. My eyes narrow as I swing my leg back inside and slam the window shut, the glass rattling in its frame like the bones of the dead.

“What is that?” I hiss, the storm in my eyes matching the one outside.

Everett’s eyes twinkle with mischief, a dangerous light that speaks of secrets and sins. “Stuff,” he says, crunching another chickpea. “You know, the usual family heirlooms—cursed artifacts, fond memories, and the occasional fossilized mammoth tusk. Just the essentials for eternal damnation.”

The silence between us is awkward as hell. There’s so much we’re not saying and so much history we’re both trying to ignore. It’s suffocating. My fingers twitch, longing to grab him by the collar and shake some sense into him. Instead, I take a deep breath, tasting the mingled scents of chocolate and ancient magic that always cling to my uncle like a shroud.

“Seriously, Uncle?” I groan, eyeing the suitcases. “What kind of trouble are you bringing with you this time? And don’t tell me it’s just your laundry.”

Everett kicks the door closed with a resounding thud, his smile faltering for a moment before regaining its usual impish gleam. He flops onto the empty bed across the room, the ancient springs groaning in protest like the souls of the damned.

“Can’t a humble, eternally youthful uncle drop in on his favorite brooding nephew without him assuming I have nefarious intentions?” he asks, feigning hurt. “Besides, I heard the campus cafeteria serves a mean immortal soup on Tuesdays. Tastes like regret and lost opportunities. Thought you might appreciate a taste of home.”

“Uncle,” I repeat, centuries of shared history and unspoken pain laden in that single word. “I am your only family—the last thread tying you to this wretched existence we call life.”

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