Page 91 of Echoes From the Void
He takes my hand with that precise gentleness I’ve come to associate with him—like I’m one of his precious first editions that he secretly lets me touch. His frost patterns wrap around us as we slip away from the party, the sounds of Leo’s sisters’ karaoke fading behind us.
The library feels different at night, moonlight streaming through stained glass windows and casting colored shadows across the stacks. Our footsteps echo in the empty space as Dorian leads me to our usual corner—the one where we’ve spent countless hours studying, arguing theory, slowly learning each other. His temporal distortions create subtle ripples in the air, responding to his growing anticipation.
“Have you ever...” I pause, gathering courage as my shadows dance with his frost. “Have you ever actually done anything besides study in here?”
His grip on my hand tightens slightly, temporal patterns shifting. “That would be highly inappropriate use of academic resources.”
“That’s not a no.” My wolves stir beneath my skin, responding to the tension building between us.
“It’s not a yes either.” But there’s a heat in his voice I’ve never heard before, his frost patterns swirling faster.
I turn to face him, backing up until I feel shelves behind me. Through our bond, I feel his careful control wavering. “Maybe it’s time to conduct some new research.”
“Frankie,” he breathes my name like a prayer, like something precious and rare. His hands come up to cage me against theshelves, frost and temporal distortions creating a cocoon around us. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, I pull him down to me, pressing my lips to his. He freezes for just a moment—that careful control wavering—before something finally breaks. His essence surges to meet mine, frost and shadows merging as his restraint begins to crumble.
The kiss starts gentle, almost hesitant, but quickly deepens as months of carefully maintained distance crumble. Dorian’s hands slide from the shelves to my waist, pulling me closer as his frost patterns swirl wildly around us. His temporal distortions pulse with each heartbeat, creating echoes of this moment.
I gasp as my back hits the books, breaking the kiss. Dorian takes advantage, trailing his lips down my neck with a precision that makes me shiver. My wolves stir restlessly beneath my skin as my fingers tangle in his perfectly styled hair, destroying his careful composure.
“We should have done this ages ago,” I manage, arching into him as he nips at my collarbone. His frost leaves cool trails wherever he touches.
“Perhaps,” he murmurs against my skin, temporal ripples following his words. “Though the library’s organizational system might have suffered.”
A laugh bubbles up, turning into a gasp as his hands roam lower. “Are you really thinking about book organization right now?”
“I think about many things,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, pupils blown wide with desire as frost dances between us. “Most of them involving you, lately.”
The admission, so simple yet so profound from someone who guards his emotions so carefully, makes my heart skip. I cuphis face in my hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones as our essences twine deeper.
“Dorian,” I say softly, feeling his curse pulse beneath my touch like a living thing. “I know what tomorrow might bring. But right now...” I pause, gathering courage. “Right now, I want to give you something.”
His breath catches as understanding dawns. “Frankie, you don’t have to?—”
“I want to break your curse.” The words come out in a rush, my shadows reaching instinctively for the darkness that’s bound him for so long. “With the pack bond—through my bite—I can share my essence with yours. Our combined power would be enough. I want to give you that, at least. While I still can.”
Dorian’s whole body stills, his frost patterns freezing mid-swirl. Through our strengthening bond, I feel the curse respond to my words, ancient magic stirring. “Frankie...” His voice carries a vulnerability I’ve never heard before.
I lean up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Let me do this for you. Let me give you this one thing.” My shadows reach deeper, testing the edges of his curse’s bindings.
Instead of answering, he lifts me suddenly, carrying me deeper into the library. His temporal distortions create a private pocket of space around us as he navigates the familiar path to our corner—the hidden nook where we’ve spent countless hours studying, arguing theory, slowly falling in love though neither of us would admit it.
The worn leather couch welcomes us as he sets me down gently. Moonlight streams through the stained glass windows, casting him in shades of blue and gold. His frost patterns dance with my shadows, creating intricate patterns in the air around us. His usual perfect composure is gone, replaced by something raw and real.
“Are you certain?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. His temporal distortions ripple with tension. “The energy required to break a curse this old?—”
I reach up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. Through our bond, I feel the curse’s dark weight, centuries of burden pressing down on him, passed through generations. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He captures my lips in a kiss that’s both tender and desperate. His essence surges to meet mine as I lose myself in it, hands roaming over the planes of his chest, the subtle strength he usually hides beneath academic propriety. When we break apart, both breathless, I see the vulnerability in his eyes.
“I’ve never let anyone this close,” he admits roughly, frost swirling faster. “Never wanted to.”
“I know.” I pull him closer, feeling the curse’s magic pulse between us. My shadows reach for his frost, testing the ancient bindings that have held him for so long. “Trust me?”
His response is a shaky exhale as I straddle his lap. Temporal distortions ripple around us, creating a cocoon of private space as my fingers trail along his collarbone. His pulse races beneath my touch, essence responding to mine.
I pull back to capture his lips again, pouring all my built-up hunger into the kiss. Our essences merge deeper—shadow and frost dancing together as the curse’s bindings start to weaken. His hands grip my hips with desperate control, temporal patterns fluctuating with each touch.
