Page 13 of Echoes From the Void

“The shadow-song,” Dorian breathes, his pen stilling. “It’s not just legend. When balanced powers work together...” He trails off as another fox joins the first, their movements creating intricate patterns that make the very air hum with stability.

“Like the old matriarchal packs,” Bishop adds quietly. “Before the Guardians decided control was more important than harmony. Before we started separating twins, breaking bonds, forgetting what our magic could really do.”

“Are they... playing?” Leo asks, delight clear in his voice as a shadow wolf gently carries a light fox kit by the scruff. “My mom would have loved this.”

There is a curious note to his voice and I’m just about to?—

“Balance,” Dorian explains, not looking up from his frantic notetaking. “Predator and trickster, strength and cunning. The perfect complementary forces. Notice how their combined presence affects the realm’s stability.”

Dr. Sharma watches the interaction with professional interest, checking readings that have suddenly normalized. “Like opposite sides of the same coin. Each enhancing rather than negating the other. The barrier between realms seems stronger where they interact.”

The fox in Liliana’s lap proves this point as its light chases away her lingering asthma, stabilizing the air around her. The girl’s delighted gasp brings a real smile to Finn’s face—the first I’ve seen from him.

“Foxes,” Finn says softly, watching his manifestations weave between my wolves. His voice carries a hint of wonder. “All those years in Blackwood’s facility, I’d dream of them. Quick enough to escape, clever enough to survive, always finding light in the darkest corners.”

“While I went straight for tooth and claw,” I observe as one of my wolves nuzzles a fox. The tremors have completely stopped now, the room holding steady in reality.

“You worked with what you had,” Matteo points out, his tone protective. One of my wolves bumps his hand for attention, and he absently scratches behind its ears. The shadows around him settle, responding to the calm energy of the foxes.

“Different paths to the same survival.” Finn’s violet eyes meet mine. “You fought your way out. I had to be... craftier.”

The fox in Liliana’s lap proves his point by suddenly vanishing, only to reappear on Dorian’s stack of books, sending them toppling. My wolf abandons Matteo to help gather them, showing surprising gentleness with its shadowy muzzle. The air where they interact shimmers with stable energy.

“Traitor,” I mutter to my wolf.

“See?” Leo grins. “Even your big bad wolf knows Dorian needs looking after.”

“I do not need—” Dorian starts, but stops as both fox and wolf give him eerily similar looks of disbelief. A slight tremor shakes the room, as if emphasizing their point.

“Your readings are absolutely fascinating,” Dr. Sharma says, deftly redirecting before Dorian can work himself into a proper snit. “The foxes seem to stabilize the shadow energy, while the wolves anchor the light. A perfect symbiosis. And look—” She gestures to her monitors. “The barrier breaches are sealing wherever they interact.”

“Like they were meant to find each other,” Matteo adds quietly, his eyes meeting mine.

He isn’t wrong. Fate always finds a way.

“What about your mom?” I ask Leo during a quiet moment, remembering he whispered her name earlier. “You talk about your sisters all the time, but...”

Leo swallows hard, shadows briefly dimming around him. “She died years ago. Cancer.” The words still feel raw as he speaks them as though I can feel his pain. “She was... different. Not a shadow shifter, but she understood it better than anyone. Kept journals full of research, warnings, old family stories about shadow gifts.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, my own shadows reaching unconsciously toward his in comfort.

“She knew things,” Leo continues. “Had these moments of... I don’t know what to call them. Insights? Warnings that always came true? She’d leave these cryptic notes—avoid the beach todayorcheck on Liliana at midnight’They never made sense until after, when they always did.”

I can feel my brows pull low. “Like prophecies?”

“Not that dramatic. Just... knowledge she shouldn’t have had. Family gift, she called it. Martinez women’s intuition cranked to eleven.” His smile is sad but genuine. “Her last warning was about Shadow Locke. About all of you, I think.She made me promise to be ready whenthey need you.I didn’t understand then.”

“And now?”

He looks at the pack gathering around us, at the shadows we all share. “Now I’m starting to.”

A distant roar shakes the building—our father, drawing closer. One of Finn’s foxes perks its ears, while my wolves raise their heads in response. Not afraid, just... aware. Ready. The realm trembles again, but gentler now, almost like an echo.

“They’re not just for show, are they?” Bishop asks from his position by the door, his tactician’s mind clearly working. “The foxes’ speed with the wolves’ strength...”

“They’re protectors,” Finn says, then hesitates. “Just like your pack.” Another pause, more uncertain. “Our pack?”

“Our pack,” I confirm firmly, watching a shadow wolf curl protectively around a sleeping fox kit. The air around them stabilizes completely, reality settling into place. “Though we haven’t sealed the bonds yet.”

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