Page 67 of Shadows of Change

"Alekir," Malrik says, the name falling like stone. "The Soulbinder."

My necklace flares sharply, and my shadows coil tight. Even Mouse lifts his head, suddenly alert.

"Easy," Finn murmurs, reaching out to steady me as the room seems to tilt. His hand finds mine, warm and grounding. "Maybe we should save the spooky history lesson for tomorrow."

"No," I manage. "I need to know. Everything you know about this Alekir, about my shadows, about the necklace—all of it."

"Not everything tonight," Malrik says firmly. "Some knowledge needs... context."

"Then give me context," I challenge. "Because right now, all I know is that my magic attracts dangerous attention, my necklace reacts to weird alignments, and apparently there's some ancient shadow-binding guy who might be relevant to all this."

"Don't forget your grumpy shadow army," Finn adds helpfully. "And their cookie addiction."

As if on cue, Bob swipes another treat. Finnick is buried in a pile of them and Patricia is daintily nibbling on one.

"The point is," Torric cuts in, "you're not facing this alone anymore. Whatever's coming—whether it's Darian, Thorne, or something bigger—we've got your back."

"Whether you want us or not," Aspen adds with a faint smile.

"Very reassuring," I mutter, but I'm fighting a smile too.

"Oh please, you love us," Finn declares. "Even Bob agrees. Look at him nodding."

"Bob is eating another cookie."

"Multitasking!"

I laugh, and some of the heaviness lifts.

"We'll figure it out," Malrik says quietly. When I look at him, his expression is intent. "All of it. Just... trust us?"

The question hangs in the air, weighted with more than just tonight's revelations.

"I do," I realize, surprising myself with how true it is. "I trust you. All of you. Even if you're terrible at sharing important information."

"In our defense," Finn says, "we were going to tell you everything tonight. You know, after the ball. Preferably over snacks and with less magical drama."

"Since when do our plans ever work out that smoothly?" Aspen asks dryly.

"Fair point. New plan: expect chaos, bring snacks."

"That's your plan for everything," Malrik points out.

"And has it ever failed?"

"Constantly."

"But entertainingly!"

As they bicker, I lean back against my cushions, letting their familiar voices wash over me. My shadows have settled into comfortable patterns: one draped across Finn's shoulders, another curled near Malrik's feet, the rest scattered among the twins like lazy cats.

Mouse, still in Finn's lap, catches my eye and lets out a quiet chirp that somehow manages to sound smug. It’s a sound that seems to say, “See? Trust isn’t so hard.” For a moment, I let myself wonder if Mouse understands more than he lets on—a tiny, furry reminder that letting others in might not be the worst thing.

"Yeah, yeah," I whisper. "You were right."

The necklace glows warmly, like a gentle laugh, as if it’s offering comfort in its own mysterious way. It feels almost alive, a steady presence grounding me in the midst of all the chaos. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if it’s telling me I’m not alone. And for the first time in a long time, I believe it. I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I don’t need anyone, that it’s safer to keep people at arm’s length. But tonight, with all their ridiculousness and chaos, they didn’t leave. They stayed, even when I pushed them away. Maybe... maybe they’re not like the others.

Even if my allies are ridiculous, shadow-seeing, snack-stealing idiots.

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