Page 105 of Echoes From the Void
Frankie
The void doesn’t feellike darkness.
That’s the first thing I realize as Finn and I descend into that impossible space. Darkness implies absence—of light, of warmth, of substance. But this... this feels likepresence. Like hunger given form. Like the space between heartbeats stretched into infinity. My wolves bristle beneath my skin, their instincts screaming that we were never meant to exist here.
Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s heart racing in perfect synchronization with mine. His fear tastes like copper on my tongue, sharp and metallic against the void’s ancient hunger.
Our merged power creates a sphere of protection around us, my shadows and Finn’s light weaving into patterns we somehow remember from before birth. Ancient sigils of protection that our mother must have sung to us in the womb, that our father’s essence carved into our very bones. Each symbol pulses with memory—safe-protect-shield-love—in our mother’s voice, soft and sure as starlight.
The mate bonds stretch thin behind us, four distinct songs of power straining to maintain connection through impossible space. Matteo’s feels like steel cable wrapped in velvet, Leo’s like summer lightning, Bishop’s like ancient books bound in leather,Dorian’s like frost patterns on glass. Each one trembles as the void tests their strength.
“It’s beautiful,” Finn whispers, his voice already distorting in this place where sound shouldn’t exist. His hand tightens in mine as we watch our powers dance. “Like we’re remembering something we never knew we forgot.”
A flash of memory hits me—not mine, but his.A nursery painted with equations of light and dark. A woman’s voice singing protection spells in shadow-speak while her belly swells with twin life. The first time our powers touched, still safe in the womb, light and shadow playing tag through amniotic fluid.
But beneath that beauty, something writhes. The void pulses with wrong rhythms, arrhythmic hunger that makes my shadows twist uneasily. Through our twin bond, I feel Finn’s light flicker in response. My stomach lurches as reality warps around us, the very fabric of space learning to hunger.
“Something’s not right,” he says, and this time the distortion in his voice carries edge of fear. “The resonance patterns—they’re all wrong. Like-”
“Like it’s learning from us,” I finish. Around our sphere of protection, the void’s darkness ripples with impossible colors. Colors that shouldn’t exist, that hurt to look at. Colors that make my wolves howl in warning. The sound echoes through my bones, making my teeth ache with frequencies that were never meant to exist in our reality.
Finn’s foxes materialize in response, their forms wavering as they try to maintain substance in this place between places. One particularly brave kit—the russet one with the scarred ear that always makes my fiercest wolf gentle—presses against my leg, its light pulsing with determination that makes my heart ache.
Shadow-wolf and light-fox touch noses briefly, ancient enemies finding peace in their chosen family. The wolf whinessoftly, licking the fox’s ear while their powers twine together, creating something new, something that should have had years to develop naturally.
We should have had this from the beginning. Should have grown up together, our powers complementing each other naturally. Should have had years of fox kits playing with wolf pups, of light and shadow in perfect balance.
Instead, we have these final moments.
The void surges suddenly, testing our defenses. Our combined power holds, but I feel the strain in my marrow, in the spaces between cells where shadow essence lives. Feel how this place hungers for what we are, what we represent. Balance. Connection. Hope.
Through the mate bonds, I feel their desperate attempts to reach us. Matteo’s predator nature claws at reality itself, trying to forge a path. Leo’s sunshine burns against the dark, searching for any crack to slip through. Bishop’s Guardian magic maps the very architecture of the void, seeking weaknesses. Dorian’s ancient power freezes space itself, trying to give us more time.
“Frankie.” Finn’s voice carries centuries of meaning in those two syllables. His light reaches for my shadows with desperate intensity as vertigo hits us both, the void’s hunger sending waves of nausea through our twin bond. “Do you feel it? The way it’s-”
The second surge hits harder than the first. Our protective sphere wavers, ancient sigils flickering like candles in wind. Wind that shouldn’t exist here, in this place beyond physical laws. My head spins as reality distorts, pressure building behind my eyes until sparks dance in my vision.
CONSUME-LEARN-BECOME
The void’s voice feels like shattered glass in my mind, each syllable carrying corrupt harmonics that set my teeth on edge. The language is older than shadow-speak, older than the first division of light and dark. It tastes like entropy and sounds likeheat death and feels like the space between atoms learning to hunger.
“Hold on,” I growl, pushing more power into our defenses. My wolves circle tighter, forming a second layer of protection. The alpha female—the one who’s been with me since that first terrible night with my foster father—presses against my leg, lending me strength. Finn’s foxes add their light to the barrier, but I can feel them weakening. Feel how this place drains everything we are.
Through our bond, I feel Finn’s growing terror as his light starts to gutter. His foxes whimper, their forms becoming translucent as the void learns to consume their essence. The brave kit with the scarred ear tries to stand strong, but I can see void-stuff starting to seep through its fur, corrupting light into hungry dark.
The third surge brings whispers, each one carrying harmonics that shouldn’t exist.
VESSELS-PERFECT-WAITING
BALANCE-INCARNATE-CONSUMING
HUNGER-ETERNAL-LEARNING
The void’s voice twists through dimensions that have no names, each word a violation of physics itself. My bones vibrate with frequencies that make my shadow essence writhe. Beside me, Finn’s light stutters like a dying star, his body trembling as the void’s power seeps into our very atoms.
“No,” he snarls with uncharacteristic fury, his scholarly gentleness burned away by protective rage. “You don’t get to use her words. Her corruption.”
Through our bond, I catch fragments of his captivity—Valerie’s voice using similar cadences as she experimented on him, trying to unlock the secrets of our twin nature. The memory makes my wolves bare their teeth, shadow-fangs gleaming with protective fury.
