Page 10 of Blood Loss (The Obscura Saga #2)

KY L O

Arms full with as many grocery bags as they can carry in one go—as if attempting to outdo one another—Kylo and David bring their haul up the steps and into the house, which David unlocks and opens skillfully with a few free fingers. Kylo took Lathan up on his offer and has made sure they stocked up on quality ingredients and delicious goodies they can all enjoy—even at the cost of their arms, weakening with each step toward the kitchen, threatening to spill food from either of their grips.

“You drop a single item and you’re the one paying next time,” David jokes just before a carton of eggs nearly slides off its throne of goods in his bag, and he has to dance to rescue it.

“You didn’t pay this time !”

They both laugh and carefully shove their collection onto the kitchen island as Maria enters the room from the hall with a serious expression. When Kylo sees her stoic nature, he inhales and his cheerfulness drops, all joy draining from his body.

Wrong. Scared. Burn. Sad. Pain.

No words need to be shared, because he knows—it’s Lathan.

Maria opens her mouth, but Kylo beats her to it for once. “ Where is he?” he demands, every hair on his body beginning to stand.

“Mijo,” she starts, caught off guard for a moment, but she seems to collect her thoughts before continuing, “we had a visit from his mother. She wanted to take him home, but he didn’t want to leave. I tried to intervene, but she bit him, and I—”

“She WHAT?” Kylo roars. His muscles feel like they’re on fire, as if begging to shift, to fight, to protect.

“He’s safe! He’s safe. The gods know she won’t be coming back here if she knows what’s good for her.”

Teeth clenched tightly, he forces the fury down to focus his efforts where they’re needed. “Where is he?” he asks again, calmer. Maria just glances up and points to the ceiling.

Kylo throws himself into a sprint, racing up the stairs so fast he nearly trips. Pushing the door to his old bedroom open, he doesn’t stop, rushing over and onto his knees at the side of the bed where Lathan rests. He can smell it on him. The venom, the pain. It’s sharp in his nostrils, despite being hard to describe.

The commotion startles Lathan from his sleep. His eyes pop open and it takes him a moment before he finds Kylo pouting like a puppy at his side. He can sense the rhythm of Lathan’s heart start to calm when he sees him.

“Hey,” he says, a bit gravelly, tired. Lifting his arm to rub his face, he winces and drops it to use the other. “Did you just get back?”

“If she comes back here, I’ll rip her fucking fangs from her skull,” Kylo growls through his tensed jaw, nostrils flaring as he reaches a gentle hand to Lathan’s cheek, thumbing it softly. Lids closing, he lets out a long breath in an attempt to calm down. That bitch hurt her own godsdamned son—my mate—again.

Lathan places his hand over Kylo’s and takes him in for a few moments. Then, without any particular emotion, he says, “I had forgotten, somehow, that she’d do that when I was a kid.”

Kylo opens his eyes to search Lathan’s with even more heartbreak. “I’ll never let them touch you ever again,” he breathes. Though it’s not likely she’ll show her face in this neighbourhood again after such a public demonstration, Kylo won’t be underestimating her again.

“Did…did they hurt you a lot growing up?”

Lathan swings his legs off the bed and leans onto his knees, mirroring Kylo’s position, his swollen wrist with his mother’s fang marks—clean, waiting to scar—facing the ceiling. His nod is small as he traces the pink irritation line. “I think I blocked it out. I don’t know how, but I didn’t remember until today.” He cocks his head thoughtfully. “How she used to bite me into submission. It’s paralyzing, as a vampire, to be bitten by another. So she’d use it to control me.”

That fateful night in W Block, after Trevor’s downfall, Kylo overheard Lathan’s conversation with his parents, followed by the slap that ricocheted down the hall. And that was apparently nothing in comparison to what he’s been subjected to. “I didn’t know it was that bad. If I had… ”

I might’ve fought her then and there. I might’ve taken you away from them before any of this could happen.

He looks down and shakes his head, disappointed in himself, his weakness. He wants to be strong for Lathan—he needs to be strong for him.

“Hey.” Lathan hooks a finger under Kylo’s chin and forces his head up. “I’m okay,” he says, and bodily, sure, he’s mostly recovered from the venom. Though, Kylo can tell his heart is badly bruised from their mistreatment, even if he doesn’t say it.

Lathan’s eyes go a bit distant, and a sadness washes over his face. “I don’t think my parents actually care about me.”

Kylo looks over him again, how small he appears, as if it’s a realization that’s taken years to acknowledge. “People don’t abuse the ones they care about,” he whispers, his voice ringing with a sad truth. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through that… You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and you’re worthy of so much more.”

Lathan forces a half smile. “I’ve got a new family now anyway, right?”

Kylo pushes to his feet and wraps his arms around Lathan’s shoulders, bringing his head into his chest, his fingers gripping gently against his thick hair. “Forever and always,” he whispers against the top of his head.

After a few moments of soaking up each other’s warmth, Lathan pulls back and looks up at Kylo inquisitively. “Do you think I need a haircut? ”

“What?” He automatically swivels his head, taken aback. “No. Never. I love your long hair.” His face softens as he watches his fingers run through the soft, dark strands. “Makes me want to grow mine out, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Lathan smirks, chuckling. “It was the first thing my mother said when she saw me.”

Kylo rolls his eyes with a groan of disapproval. “Fuck her. Your hair is beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Lathan slides his hand from Kylo’s back to rub his arm lovingly in response to his compliments. “If it helps,” he says, “I pointed out her grey roots.”

“Good.” Kylo lets out a laugh at the comeback. “But I would’ve said much worse.”

◆◆◆

Mondays are usually busy during the school year, but after everything that’s happened, and the subsequent week off, today is especially chaotic. Both Kylo and Lathan have themselves set up in separate rooms of the guest house for their online classes. Meanwhile, Kylo’s retired parents are busy prepping for the night ahead—the full moon approaching with each passing hour.

Kylo peeks over his screen as Lathan’s head pops around the corner from the bedroom.

“Can they hear me?” Lathan whispers, nodding to Kylo’s computer sitting on the dining table in front of him .

He shakes his head before exposing his left ear from his headphones. “Nah, I’m muted. What’s up?”

“Just mute? Or is your camera off, too?” Lathan inches forward, eyeing the laptop. “Will your class see me if I climb into your lap?”

Kylo’s eyes widen, face flushing bright red, as he chokes on his own saliva. Coughing, he fumbles with his keyboard and clicks off the camera, keeping one of his wireless headphones on to hear if his professor calls on him for a bit of class discussion.

“Climb aboard,” he says, moving his chair back to make room, a lame attempt at being smooth after his fluster.

Lathan smirks and moves to him, kicking a leg over his lap to sit down on his thighs. Facing him, he slides his arms around his waist and buries his face into the side of Kylo’s neck with a comfortable sigh. “Too bad I don’t get you tonight,” he says into his skin.

Kylo returns his embrace, tipping his head to the side to rub his cheek against Lathan’s. Gods, I’m lucky to have him , he thinks, taking in his classic citrus musk.

“As much as I crave to relive our last full moon together”—Kylo kisses the top of his hair—“and believe me, I crave it,” he adds, purring into his head, “I don’t think my parents would appreciate being subjected to that.”

A rumble of a laugh vibrates through Lathan. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He lifts his head to meet the russet eyes looking down at him. “You crave it, hm?”

“To mate you all over again? Gods, yes. That was the second best night of my life.”

Lathan cocks his head, black hair falling down his shoulder. “Second best? What’s the best, then?”

“The night of our first date, when you became my boyfriend.” Kylo’s hands find Lathan’s face, pulling him down as he leans forward to kiss him.

Lathan lifts a brow, amused. “Boyfriend trumps mate?”

“It doesn’t, but that was the night we started. Our first date, our confessed love, the love we made . I know it’s corny, but I’ll cherish it forever.”

Lathan nuzzles his face into Kylo’s, almost like he’s a werewolf too. He shows his love differently than Kylo—he isn’t as vocal about it, but that doesn’t mean his love is any less bright, nor does it mean he doesn’t like hearing Kylo’s hopeless romanticism. “So will I,” he breathes. “Though, I don’t know if our dorm neighbours would call your screams from that night making love .”

“I think they’d say the same about yours when we mated.” His voice is charming and sly. “But our love has always been different. It’s fierce”—he kisses his cheek—“and dangerous”—he kisses his nose—“and beautiful.” Then he kisses his opposite cheek, finishing the line of affection across his face.

“Except campus was empty that night,” Lathan reminds him, then he redirects the conversation, sitting back a bit. “What happens tonight? Do you, Maria, and David go somewhere?”

“Some werewolves will take the risk and head into the great outdoors, but most will go to a facility in the city that’s kind of like a cross between W Block and a community centre. But my parents actually have their own accommodations in the basement. They built it when I was about”—he pauses, squinting his eyes and looking to the side—“ten, I think? Or maybe nine? I was younger.”

His eyebrows jump. “In the basement? Who usually lets you out when you’re lucid?”

“No one! The shackles are on an automatic timed release system. It’s actually pretty handy.”

“Hm.” Lathan’s eyes wander off, thinking. “Can I come see you?”

“Uh.” Kylo’s face scrunches in uncertainty. “Maybe not while we’re chained. It’ll let us out after Power Hour, so it’ll be safe for you then.”

In truth, Kylo doesn’t want Lathan to see him feral again. Not after the attack. Not after everything Lathan witnessed. Everything Kylo has done—the extent of which he doesn’t even know.

“I’ll wait until then,” Lathan agrees. He kisses him softly, warmly, and then dons a proper smile.

“Oh, and Kylo was the next to give a presentation. Kylo, are you still there?”

Kylo freezes like a deer in the headlights, peering over Lathan’s shoulder at his computer. Quickly moving his hands from Lathan’s waist to the mouse and keyboard, he clicks on his mic. “Y-yes, I’m here.” He clears his throat in an attempt to ignore his partner still straddling his lap. “I was almost finished my presentation before the break, so I will have it ready to go for Thursday, as rescheduled.”

The professor continues as Kylo mutes himself once more, falling back in his seat with an exasperated sigh.

Lathan chuckles into Kylo’s neck and sits up. “I’ll leave you to it.” He peels himself off his lap and runs his fingers through his long hair to comb it out of his face.

“See you later, alligator.” Kylo winks with a cheeky grin before Lathan walks back to the bedroom, presumably back to his own class, with a grin of his own plastered to his face.

◆◆◆

A knot has Kylo’s stomach in a vice, nerves wracking his limbs as he helps Maria prepare an array of late night snacks. Roast chicken, blue steaks, a glazed ham, two loaves of fresh baked bread, and an array of cheeses cut into large cubes—a feast for three beasts. While their larger forms require a lot more nutrients and proteins to maintain, if the tension in Kylo’s gut doesn’t resolve, food won’t be on his mind at all—the fear of harming Lathan will be. He’s already hurt him while shifted—unbeknownst to his parents, only Lucas holds that information—and with how the attack has changed his body, he’s terrified he’ll unknowingly gut the person he cares about most.

“Do you want me to bring the food down later?” Lathan asks, moving across the dining room and snapping Kylo out of his trance as he covers the last plate with plastic wrap.

“Oh! Uhm.” Maria glances between the platters and the fridge. “You know what? That would be lovely! It can be a little tricky to get into the fridge and cupboards with those pesky paws.” She chuckles, nodding to the kitchen behind her. There are scratches on some cabinet doors, though it’s hard to tell under the touched-up paint. The buffed-out gouges near the fridge handles are easier to spot.

“Are you going to be alright tonight?” Maria pipes back up after putting the last tray away, to keep cool until later. Kylo leans against the counter, facing the two, also eager to know his answer in hopes to ease his troubled mind. “I realize you’ve already seen Kylo”—she tips her head to her son, who struggles to hide an embarrassed expression at the notion—“but we want to make sure you’re comfortable. Especially after… Well. You know. So, you’re more than welcome to ignore us for the night.”

Lathan runs a knuckle over a thick scratch mark on the fridge and smiles softly. It’s as if Kylo can feel his warm thoughts as butterflies disperse the tangle of anxiety in his core with the tug of his lips.

“Yeah,” Lathan says, and looks over at her, “I’ll be fine, as long as you’re fine with me being around you.” He crosses his ankles as he leans against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. “I want to help. I only sleep a few hours every night, so I’ll be up anyway.”

“Oh, of course. And the help is greatly appreciated, thank you. Did mijo fill you in about our arrangements during Power Hour?” The nickname originated from her and David to teach Kylo and his siblings about what happens to a werewolf under the full moon. Still feels nostalgic to hear them use it.

“He told me about the preprogrammed restraints. Is there anything else I should know?”

“Okay, good. Yes. While the restraints are on a timer, if any of us were to break them or get out during that hour, the system would send a message to the police with the details. Then someone would come to take care of things. But it’s never happened before, and we’ve had the updated model for two years now, so you won’t have to worry about that. Promise.” She smiles reassuringly. “Now why don’t you two go see if David needs any help in the basement before it’s time? I’ll be there shortly.”

They both nod, push off the counter and head toward the stairwell to the basement. Though it’s less decorated than the rest of the home, it’s still cozy in its own right. The floor is polished concrete—a little cold on the feet but nice on the eyes. The walls are painted an off-white, except for a navy blue accent wall on the far left of the room, where a seating area with a TV, couch, coffee table, and floor lamp resides. A laundry nook occupies the doorway beside the bottom of the stairs, and on the far right of the room is an industrial area. The concrete floor extends up the wall to the ceiling where thick chains are secured with varying heights and lengths. Only a few feet away, on the connecting wall, is a large, recessed, digital panel embedded with a few buttons beneath the screen.

Tinkering away at the panel, David is shirtless, barefoot, and speckled in light grey chest hair that creeps toward his shoulders.

“Hey, Dad, need any help?” Kylo calls as they pad closer. Lathan walks slowly behind him, cautiously looking around at the emptiness, the very specific use of space. The house is large enough that they don’t need a basement for extra living space, so they’ve kept most furniture from the basement in case of damage during Power Hour, with a select set that show their intended wear.

David turns to see the two. “Nope, I’m alright. I’ve got everything set up down here, so we should be good to chain-up in about”—he glances over to the clock on the panel’s screen— “five minutes.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Kylo asks, reaching his hands to Lathan’s, his nerves creeping back in as it nears midnight.

Lathan’s attention is drawn back to his partner. “I’ll be fine. I’ll stay upstairs until the coast is clear, then I can get you anything you need.”

Kylo smiles up at him, then lifts onto his toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.”

It’s obvious David saw his son kiss Lathan and, to give them a moment of privacy, he silently and awkwardly spins back to admire the concrete wall with a hand on his chin in contemplation.

Maria’s hurried steps drip down the stairs as she joins the crowd, clapping her hands. “Chop, chop, time’s a-tickin’! Lathan, honey, if you don’t want to see us strip to our undies, you might want to head upstairs now.”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Lathan says gently, pulling out of Kylo’s hands and backing away.

After the three indeed strip down to their underwear, David presses the ARM button and gets Maria and Kylo clicked into their shackles first, before tending to his own. After a few minutes pass, the system beeps and the shackles set: the mechanism inside has locked. It’s not long before pained grunting, growling, and clattering chains echo up the stairs as they shift. But there’s one difference tonight—Kylo.

He braces himself as his parents’ limbs crack and lengthen, yet, as his own begin to change, it isn’t nearly as painful, or as slow , as the two werewolves to his right. Inside, rather than his wolf desperately tearing its way to the surface, he feels the intense urge to appease it willfully, the need to embrace it, as the moon sits heavy and full above their home .

His body sprouts fur in quick, uneven bursts from his pores. His fascia and sinew loosen like ribbon untied, making way for his muscles and bones to grow and expand with ease.

All the while, he’s conscious.

What the fuck? his mind whispers, heart racing with this new, uncomfortable experience. He flinches and tenses, low growls escaping his throat with each burst of bearable pain. Bearable. Unlike before. Unlike his parents who are in excruciating, body-breaking pain as their wolves take over. Even with years of practice under their belts, it never gets easier—it’s not supposed to get easier. It’s the price werewolves pay to the gods to have a balanced partnership with their inner beasts. A pact made from birth or bite; pain and suffering for a short period of time each month to make up for the opportunity to walk on the earth as folk the rest of the year. That’s what Kylo has been taught by his elders his entire life, and that’s what is now being flipped on its head entirely as his parents enter the notorious Power Hour and Kylo doesn’t.

Why am I awake?

His breaths are heavy, eyes watery as he whips his fresh muzzle over to his mom and dad, snarling and ripping at their confines.

They smell of wild, and anger, and pack, and let me out.

WHY AM I AWAKE?!

He lets out a roar filled with fear and confusion.

His heart thrums faster, an antsy unease itching his body. Looking over himself, he’s fully shifted. Russet brown fur coats his abdomen, his thighs, his doglike legs, his clawed feet, his entire animalistic form. He stares and stares and stares, listening to Maria and David gnash their teeth at one another, the sound of metal against concrete, the heightened sound of Lathan’s quiet footsteps creaking the floor above. He barely blinks as the minutes pass, waiting for black to wash him over, but his mind stays put.

This isn’t normal—this shouldn’t be possible. But there was nothing normal about the frequency attack. I knew it fucked with my brain, changed the way I smell things—feel things—but this?

Since waking up in W Block a week ago, the world has felt sharper , as if he has a deeper connection, a reactive pull, to the things around him—to his mate.

As the hour ticks by, as the snarls and tugging chains die down, as his parents slowly come to, as he calms to the terrifying fact that his body is forever changed, one nagging question doesn’t leave his mind:

What price do I pay to stay awake?