Page 18 of Echoes From the Void
“Of you?” He laughs softly. “Never. Even when we were kids, and you’d get that look in your eyes—the one that made everyone else back away? I knew you’d never hurt me.”
“I wanted to hurt plenty of people who hurt you.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t. You controlled it. Like you always do.” His lips brush my jaw. “But control doesn’t mean denial anymore, does it?”
“No,” I growl, the sound deeper with my new fangs. Years of memory flash between us—Leo defending my anger issues to teachers, me threatening anyone who mocked his endless optimism, both of us pretending our lingering touches were just friendship.
His hands slip under my shirt, finding the shadow marks that spiral across my skin. Unlike everyone else’s hesitant touches, he traces them with reverence. “Remember when you first showed me your shadows?”
“Junior year. Behind the gym.” I drag my fangs lightly along his neck, feeling his pulse jump. “Three years after I moved here, and you’d just taken a beating defending your sisters from those seniors who mocked your Spanish. You understood what it was like, being different.”
“And you went all dark avenger on them.” His laugh catches as I nip at his collarbone. “Got suspended for a week.”
“Worth it.”
“Your mom was so mad.”
“No, she wasn’t.” I pull back enough to meet his eyes. “She’s always understood you were different. Special.”
The potential bond between us pulses with years of shared history, of unspoken devotion. Leo’s sunshine energy wraps around my shadows like it belongs there, like it always has.
“Speaking of special,” he murmurs, pressing closer, “these new fangs are really doing it for me.”
“Everything does it for you.”
“Not everything. Just you.” His smile turns wicked as his own shadows start to curl around mine, golden-tinged darkness that’s uniquely Leo. “Want to see what else they can do?”
I’ve always loved this about him—how he can shift from sunshine to shadow without losing his essential warmth. His power feels like twilight, that perfect moment between day and night.
“Your shadows are showing,” I murmur against his throat.
“Only for you.” He arches as my fangs graze his skin. “Well, and the pack. But this—” his shadows tangle with mine, creating patterns of dark and light that mirror our history, “—this has always been ours first.”
He’s right. Long before Frankie and her wolves, before Bishop’s politics or Dorian’s mysteries, we had this. Secret moments of shared power, of understanding what it meant to walk the line between light and dark.
“Remember the first time your shadows emerged?” I ask, running my hands down his back where I know his own marks spiral. “During that championship game?”
“When that guy from Aurora tried to break your leg?” Shadows flare with the memory. “Yeah. Kind of hard to explain to the coach why the field suddenly went dark.”
“You’ve always been protective.”
“Says the guy who literally just grew fangs to defend us better.” His fingers trace my jaw again. “We match now. Both of us changing, becoming more.”
I press him against the window, enjoying how his shadows dance with the moonlight. Even in darkness, Leo finds ways to shine. “You never did tell the others about that game.”
“Didn’t seem important.” His breath hitches as my fangs find his pulse point. “Besides, I liked having secrets with you. Like that summer after graduation...”
“When you climbed through my window every night?” My shadows wrap around his wrists, pinning them above his head. “Nearly gave my mother a heart attack.”
“Please, she left the window unlocked.” His shadows twist free of mine playfully, a game we’ve perfected over years. “She knew I kept you balanced.”
It’s true. Even at my darkest, Leo’s twilight energy could reach me. Now his shadows chase mine across our skin, leaving trails of warmth where they meet.
“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. “I can feel it through the bond.”
“Someone has to think in this relationship.”
“Rude.” But his smile is soft, knowing. “At least I got you to admit it’s a relationship. Only took what, six years?”
