Page 5 of Echoes From the Void

Leo’s laugh carries a hint of nervousness. “Well, we’ve been best friends since Matteo moved here. Some things just... evolve naturally.”

“Like how you took the blame for my broken vase?” my mother says softly. “Even though it was clearly Matteo’s terrible aim?”

“Still is,” Leo teases, his shoulder brushing mine. “You should see him trying to play darts at Andy’s.”

“I hit what I aim for,” I growl, the sound making my mother’s steps falter.

“Down, boy,” Leo murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. The familiar phrase carries layers of meaning, memories of nights spent tangled in sheets, of passion barely contained.

We reach the medical wing doors just as another alarm sounds. Through the warded windows, I catch a glimpse of Frankie sitting with her brother, shadows and light dancing between them. My hands ache to hunt down threats, to eliminate anything that might harm them. Leo’s presence beside me steadies the violent urge, like sunshine cutting through storm clouds.

My mother’s healing energy flows between us, testing, sensing. Her eyes widen as she registers the bond forming—not just between Leo and me, but reaching toward Frankie. Toward pack.

“The twins need a healer,” I say as we walk through antiseptic-scented halls that remind me of watching her work miracles in Delhi. “But they also need protection. Sometimes... sometimes healing isn’t enough.”

“And sometimes,” she says, watching how Leo unconsciously shifts to guard my blind spot, “protection takes many forms. Your father and I taught you ahimsa—non-violence—but perhaps we should have taught you balance instead.”

A roar shakes the building. Through the windows, I see a shadow beast materializing—too close to the medical wing. Too close to my mother, to Leo, to our future alpha. My shadows surge, recognizing corruption that needs to be eliminated.

“Oh shit, that’s a big one,” Leo mutters, then quickly adds, “Sorry, Mrs. Sharma.”

“I’ve worked in emergency rooms for thirty years, beta,” my mother says dryly. “I’ve heard worse in six different languages.”

The beast’s corrupt energy makes my mother’s healing aura flicker. Choice made, I shove her behind me as shadows gather around my hands. “Get inside. Leo?—”

“Like hell I’m leaving you,” he snaps, his usual playful tone gone. Shadows start to gather around his fingers—his own abilities awakening in response to the threat.

“Protect my mother,” I growl, letting her see what I truly am now. “Please.”

It’s the please that does it. Leo knows how rarely I use that word.

“Fine,” he says, clearly unhappy. “But if you die, I’m telling Frankie. And you know how she gets about her pack being idiots.”

“Noted.”

I move to meet the beast, but my mother’s hand catches my arm. “Beta,” she says softly, “show me what you’ve learned from my healing forms.”

Understanding clicks. Where she channels energy to mend, I can use it to destroy. The same movements, opposite purpose. Perfect precision aimed at protection instead of healing.

The beast charges. I meet it with shadows that move like scalpels, cutting with surgical accuracy. Each strike mirrors a healing form she taught me—the motion for mending bones now shatters corrupted limbs, the energy flow for cell regeneration now disrupts the beast’s essence.

“Ya Allah,” I hear my mother whisper, but there’s wonder mixed with her shock.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Leo’s voice carries pride, and something more intimate that makes heat crawl up my neck despite the battle. “You should see him when he’s really letting loose.”

Through the medical wing windows, I catch Frankie watching, her own shadows stirring in response to the violence. Her presence, even at a distance, makes my own shadows sharper, more focused. This is what I am now—her protector, Leo’s anchor, my mother’s son. Violence and healing, darkness and light.

The beast dissolves under my precisely targeted shadows. As its essence dissipates, I turn to find my mother staring at me with healer’s eyes that see everything.

“Your shadows,” she says wonderingly. “They move like my healing. Wild and violent, yes, but... the same patterns. The same heart.”

“I am your son,” I say quietly. “Even if I’m not what you expected.”

“You’re exactly what you need to be.” She steps forward, and this time when she hugs me, her healing energy doesn’t recoil from my shadows. “Though your technique could use work. Your left side was completely open.”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Leo chimes in, coming to stand with us. His presence feels right, like completing a circuit.

My mother looks between us, a knowing smile touching her lips. The same smile she wore when arranging marriages for my cousins, seeing compatible souls. “Now, tell me about these twins who need both healing and protection. And perhaps explain why you both smell like the same cologne?”

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