Page 12 of Blood Loss (The Obscura Saga #2)

K YL O

The morning after the full moon, Kylo wakes, shifted back into himself, naked atop the covers, limbs intertwined with Lathan’s. It’s the most comfortable he’s been in a while. Peace filling his being with each breath of his mate into his lungs.

The scent takes him back to the moment Lathan accepted him as his mate—the excitement that rushed through him. The promise ring was a beautiful commitment—one he hasn’t removed since the day he received it—but as an accepted mate, he feels confirmed in a way he can’t describe. It’s beyond words and deeper than skin, burrowing into what he can only assume is his soul. And no matter what happens now, Lathan is love, Lathan is family, Lathan is pack.

Exhaling long and slow, he huffs his own scent onto the vampire. His body isn’t as exhausted as anticipated from the new shift. It’s still odd to think about: how different it felt, how clear his mind was the entire time—how clear the initial fear and confusion was. He would’ve thought it was a dream if he didn’t wake up still cocooning Lathan in his old bed.

It’s not long until Lathan rolls over, planting a kiss on Kylo’s forehead before untangling himself from their shared warmth, slipping from the bedroom as quiet as he tends to be. His first class starts earlier, which leaves Kylo another hour to lay and think before attending his own.

The changes forced upon him make him feel like a pup learning what it means to be a werewolf all over again, except this time he’s foreign, different, leaving him feeling displaced amongst his own family. A vile sensation lingers on his skin with the thought.

I should talk about it. Admit how I’ve changed… Gods, I don’t even know the extent to that. A knot ties itself in his gut, sinking it down, down, down, like an anchor cast to sea.

Nope. Not now. I’ve got class soon. I don’t wanna feel like shit. I’m not thinking about this now. I’ll deal with it later.

And with that, he stuffs the fear, the anxiety, the sheer fact that he has changed into that box in the back of his mind to be sealed away until he’s ready.

◆◆◆

By midday, Kylo’s computer science class is in full swing. The biggest downside: the professor is a huge bore. His monotone voice drones on like static noise as he rants about the latest news between instructions on their upcoming assignment. It’s hard to pay attention when half of the garbage leaving the old man’s mouth isn’t even pertinent to the class syllabus .

His mind wanders aimlessly—head held up by his hand, elbow propped up on the table—wishing he didn’t have another hour of this. To his delight, a high-pitched ping notifies him of a new email. Happy for a distraction, no matter how brief, he clicks his student email. The window pops up overtop the video call of his professor alone in his home office, with small black squares to the right identifying him and his classmates with their cameras turned off. Viewing his inbox, the subject line of the new message catches his attention.

‘CONFIDENTIAL: March Incident Report / K. A. Garcia’

The lock icon on the right of the subject line means the email is encrypted, which only makes Kylo more curious and confused. His brows furrow, eyes squinting as he opens the message. Inside, it appears to be an embedded PDF. Scanning over the official document, his eyes catch the highlights:

‘ March 1, 2024’

‘frequency attack targeting werewolves’

‘Autopsy’

‘DNA of Kylo Alexander Garcia was found on the victim’

‘report has been forwarded to the police’

His heart drops to his stomach, which waves with nausea. Adrenaline pumps through his body, making his hands shake above his keyboard. The room feels as if it’s spinning around him; the sound of his professor ranting away through his headphones drowns out into background noise as darkness encroaches on his vision.

Shoving himself to standing, his headphones clatter to the floor as he stumbles away from the table in the main room and into the bedroom where Lathan is in his online class. The more his mind flashes between the email and the blood he was drenched in after the attack, the more his stomach churns. The unknown events of the football game come back to haunt him more than they already do.

When Lathan looks up from his screen, it takes less than a second before he’s on his feet, abandoning his laptop on the bed and hurrying to his mate’s side. “Ky? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I…killed someone.” As he pushes the words out, the memory of that sweet, metallic tang returns to the back of his tongue, causing a violent wave of acid up his esophagus.

Dodging Lathan, he turns abruptly, bracing himself on every wall and surface he passes to keep himself upright as he rushes to the bathroom. Dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, he flings open the lid just in time for his tensed muscles to curl him forward, emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain.

Sweating through his clothes, his heart races as he grapples with the chunks of time he’s missing between bouts of dry-heaving.

We hadn’t eaten that whole night. We were waiting for halftime. But when Lathan offered me food after W Block, I was full .

“I fucking ate someone.” Another wave of nausea has him gripping the toilet bowl as he starts to cry. His abs ache as they tighten like a vice, forcing up whatever’s left in his stomach, acid burning his throat in the process. He gasps for air and coughs to clear his throat, spitting out the vile taste that lingers on his palette.

All the while, Lathan lingers in the doorway of the bathroom, giving him space and letting his body go through the motions. Once Kylo turns away from the porcelain, pressing his back against the vanity, Lathan enters, crouching down to his level. Brushing overgrown curls out of Kylo’s eyes with the back of his hand, Lathan studies his saddened face with a gentle expression, waiting patiently.

“Email,” Kylo exhales, catching his breath as the adrenaline tapers off. “I got an email…” His chin and lower lip quivers, and his eyes raise to meet Lathan’s briefly before migrating up to the ceiling. “An autopsy found my DNA on one of the victims. That night, I didn’t wanna believe I could, but there was blood in my mouth… I-I think I ate them.”

Yet, Lathan remains calm. A rock. His expression doesn’t waver, his body doesn’t react. “I need you to breathe,” he says, voice silken and smooth. “Slowly. Come on.”

Kylo’s inhale is stuttered and shaky, throat bobbing as he tries not to cry, but his exhale is long and slow. He doesn’t open his eyes, but follows Lathan’s instructions without hesitation.

“Good.” He brushes tears off the ridge of Kylo’s chin, and then takes the side of his face in one hand. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again: this is not your fault.”

Lids lifting, he searches Lathan’s stare. “I know,” he breathes, admitting it to himself—that he was forced, unconscious, unaware of the actions that occurred. “What am I gonna do? They were a person, w-with goals a-and loved ones.” He looks to the side, horrified as he thinks out loud. “Oh, gods, their family… Do I find them and give my condolences? Fuck. No, I fucking killed their child! I can’t talk to them, there’s no taking that back! What am I gonna do?” he repeats, intentionally hitting his head back against the vanity, his mind spiralling, reaching out desperately for an answer.

“You don’t do anything,” Lathan says softly, rubbing Kylo’s leg. “You can’t do anything. And I know that hurts. I know you want to. I know you need to. But this…affects too many people. It’s a tragedy , which means it was an accident . You and the other werewolves didn’t do anything out of malice.”

As Lathan speaks, Kylo’s mind continues to reach, and grapples onto the one thing he can find.

“I know it’s not the same, and I know he deserved it, but we haven’t talked about it either… How did you handle this with Trevor?” He hesitates before saying his name, knowing it would leave his mouth feeling slimy and bitter—more than his own vomit. But Lathan killed him. His body, his instincts, took over and it just happened .

Lathan stiffens. They watch each other for far too long, silent, until finally Lathan’s hands fall to his sides, dropping from Kylo.

“I didn’t,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t have support for…that. It’s something we don’t talk about. Something we hide. Pr etend it doesn’t exist. So that’s what I did.”

“What?” Kylo exhales. “I thought that was just your family’s views. A-are you okay? Fuck. I should’ve asked you that months ago. You were just so calm afterward, I didn’t think…I didn’t know…”

That you were hurting, too.

“Stop,” Lathan says, and his voice is almost authoritative. “That’s not on you. I didn’t say anything.” He leans back against the wall, an arm resting on his bent knee. “You’re right that it’s different. Werewolves can’t control it. Not right away. But I—” He swallows. “Kylo, I knew what I was doing.”

Kylo’s heart races as he stares and stares and stares.

He knew.

He already saved me, but…he still killed him.

He killed Trevor for me.

The fact is terrifying, but woefully comforting—even though it shouldn’t be. The events of that night have been shoved far back into the recesses of his mind and he doesn’t plan on reaching out for them, but even with keeping his distance, he knows he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Lathan.

He can’t bring himself to talk about it further. Instead, he slides himself across the tile floor and pulls Lathan into a tight embrace. His own sweaty limbs wrapping around the vampire, soaking up the faint warmth on his skin. It’s all too much, weighing down Kylo’s head like lead while his body shakes from the absence of adrenaline.

After a few moments of silence, holding each other through the sadness of their actions, Kylo pipes up in a hushed tone. “I need to show my parents the email.”

“Do you want me to go get them?”

Kylo shakes his head against Lathan’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you. I don’t want to be alone.” With my thoughts.

Slowly, Lathan lifts from the ground, helping Kylo to his feet. He walks him out to the overcast backyard—which feels oddly sombre and fitting—and through the sliding door of the main house. David is napping on the couch, as he often does. Maria is not in the general vicinity.

Kylo tries to breathe slow, steady breaths to avoid a repeat of his panicked spiral—or vomiting. Reaching into his pants’ pocket with trembling hands, he pulls out his phone and brings up the student email, choosing not to open the message himself again.

“Dad,” he forces out as they approach the living room.

David startles, wide eyes flaring as his body jerks. He blinks absently at Kylo and Lathan, hovering over him, for a few seconds before gathering himself. He clears his throat and rubs his face. “Mm. Yeah?”

“It’s the attack.” His throat tightens, causing his voice to sound forced and squeaky as he holds the phone out to his father. “I didn’t read it all, but…I read enough.”

David looks from Kylo to the phone. He takes it from his son and grabs the narrow reading classes from the coffee table. With them perched on the ball of his nose, he tilts his head back and reads over the contents of the email.

His face hardens.

“Maria is upstairs,” he says without removing his gaze from the device in his hands. “Could you go grab her, Lathan?”

Lathan nods and swiftly disappears. Kylo can see the reflection of the report in his father’s glasses until he lowers the phone to meet his son’s eyes.

“I’m calling in the pack.”