Page 14 of Blood Loss (The Obscura Saga #2)

KY L O

The world slows into a blank void, cancelling out every sound, every person—except for Ethan and Lathan.

Red.

The impact of his cousin’s fist sends a stinging sensation ripping through Kylo, like boiling static singeing every pore.

Red.

Blood stains his mate’s face—sticky and wet on his fingers. And Ethan’s to blame.

Red.

Dirt kicks up from the earth as he pushes into a sprint. Fur thickens the hair on his skin; legs grow and contort into a werewolf’s bent state; chest muscles fill loose fabric; arms grow with clawed hands; face extends into a partial muzzle with higher-set ears. It’s as if his body shifts halfway to his werewolf form, creating a bulkier, taller, stronger version of himself. A few buttons pop from his shirt, his slacks are tight against his thickened thighs, his shoes destroyed and left behind the clawed paws that remain in their wake.

Tackling Ethan to the ground, the two roll before Kylo shoves him away, crouching defensively in front of Lathan and letting out a protective roar. Huffing furiously, animalistic eyes dart between each pack member as they flinch and move away, their faces strained in either shock or horror.

Ethan picks himself up and spins around to fight, but what he finds stops him. His submission is instant, withdrawing into himself, ears flattening against his head.

“Touch my mate again and I’ll shred your fucking hands,” Kylo growls to Ethan, and Leonard for good measure; his voice an odd blend of his normal alto and a sandpaper baritone.

The rest of the pack backs away from Kylo. Mateo whines into Kianna’s hair, hiding behind it like a curtain, and a handful of aunts and cousins have stepped in front of the pack’s elders to fortify a wall of protection.

“Kylo,” Maria hiccups, covering her mouth. David holds her shoulders steady, keeping her from moving.

Kylo’s right ear twitches behind him, hearing Lathan breathe quickly, chest pumping shallowly below a protective Alpha, but he keeps his unblinking eyes trained on the threats mere feet away.

“What the fuck is this?” Leonard says, and looks at his brother. David shakes his head in shock, lips parted without an answer to give.

Deciding to creep back to his father, Ethan sidesteps cautiously toward the group, but a warning vibrates out of Kylo’s throat, stopping him once more. Those pathetic, cowardly eyes pass between the two in the grass, searching for help.

They hate us. They’re enemies. I won’t let them hurt Lathan. I won’t let them touch my mate. Not again. Run, you fucking cowards, before I rip you all apart.

Cowards. Hypocrites. Liars.

They talk about pack unity, talk about strength and respect. I’ll show them strength.

All these years I dulled myself for them, for their fucking traditions. No more. Not now. Not after you shamed him, after you beat him. He did nothing, and yet you attacked .

He’s bleeding because of you.

I wanna know how much you bleed.

His hair begins to stand on end, every swirl of thoughts taking him deeper and deeper into a blind rage fuelled by years of trauma at the hands of his so-called pack.

As if sensing the level of red through their bond, Lathan reaches a shaking hand to touch, ever so carefully, the fur spurting in tufts on the arm closest to him. “Ky,” he breathes.

Kylo snaps around, snatching Lathan’s hand. Maria gasps sharply, but Lathan barely reacts. Instead, he studies him with a profound amazement that Kylo can feel—a wave of warmth radiating between them, causing his grip to relax and his pupils to dilate, contract, and dilate again.

Gentle fingers brush Kylo’s cheek and he closes his eyes against the sensation, breathing into the delicate exploration gliding along his jaw, around his mouth, and nose.

“It’s okay,” Lathan whispers to him. “I’m okay.”

Mate. Home. Safe, safe, safe.

Snuffing out the fires of rage, Lathan’s voice lulls him back into the present moment. Blinking the red from his eyes, his vision clears and his hackles soften. Releasing his partner’s arm entirely, Kylo nuzzles his head into his hand. All the while, the pack looks on silently, watching how Lathan touches him without fear.

A gritty woman’s voice pops out from the crowd with a snort. Patty tips her alcohol at Ethan, who has cautiously returned to his family’s little huddle. “You say we don’t want a vampire in the pack, but if we didn’t have one right now, you’d be dead.” She chuckles to herself and sips from her cup.

Kylo chooses to ignore her comment, ignore the scent of fear—the same smell as was from the man in W Block—wafting off everyone, and focuses on the injured face before him. Raising a hand, he uses a knuckle to gently remove the blood dripping from Lathan’s nose, wiping the excess onto his pants.

“They’ll never hurt you again,” he promises quietly, confidently.

Lathan winces at the soreness, but allows Kylo’s gesture. “I’m okay,” he reassures once more under his breath.

The sound of footsteps brushing the grass pierces through Kylo’s focus. Whipping his head around, he finds Lucas holding up his hands lazily.

“Just thought I’d check if his nose is broken.” He stops a couple paces away from them, waiting for his brother’s permission.

Kylo relaxes his shoulders and his ears turn down as he nods. “Please.” He shifts his body around to kneel behind Lathan.

Lucas places a knee in the grass and looks at Lathan’s face, turning it from side to side.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Lathan says, trying to brush it off.

“And you would know because you’ve had a broken nose before?”

Lathan hums. “I have.”

“Of course you have.” Lucas taps around the reddened cartilage and Lathan closes his eyes against the ache. Then Lucas motions a hand in circles at Kylo. “You might want to fix whatever the fuck this is before Mom or the elders throw you in a hospital or something.”

Kylo cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

Lucas just eyes him up and down in a silent signal to the issue.

Looking down at his lap, Kylo’s eyes lock onto his hands, brows furrowing as his brain processes what he’s staring at. The thicker fingers that his promise ring is clamping down on, the tufts of fur mixed with his body hair, the darkened claws extending from his fingers. It’s dysphoric and almost dissociative to realize the body he’s in no longer looks the way it should.

I’ve shifted?

He inspects his clothes barely clinging to his larger frame. Shifting his legs out in front of him, he sees his bent wolf-like joints which have torn the seams of his trousers, his shoes gone with his clawed feet on display. If he were fully shifted, all his clothes would lay in tatters on the grass.

No, this is different.

“How?” he breathes, eyes wide.

“I don’t know, but you’d better come up with something fast. They’re all discussing what to do.” Lucas drops his hands from Lathan’s nose and stands back up. “Not broken. Put some ice on it at home.”

Lathan partially faces Kylo, looking at him in a way he is now much too aware of.

Lifting his hands, he feels his face—the protrusion of a snout that wishes to grow into a great maw, the ears now velvety and stretched upward on his head as if paused in their full moon migration.

“You didn’t notice?” Lathan asks gently. “That’s why I was touching you.”

With that, it dawns on him that everyone noticed except for him—too blinded by the need to protect, to attack. The red.

He glances up at his pack, all huddled and eyeing him as they talk amongst themselves. Looking at their horror now, with a clear head, is much more distressing.

“Do werewolves…ever have control like this? Without a full moon?” Lathan asks his caretaker.

“No,” Lucas answers, crossing his arms. “Not that I’ve ever heard of.”

“I—I didn’t know. He punched you, and all I could see was red. All I wanted was to keep you safe from them,” Kylo admits, struggling to grapple with what’s happening, until a chill runs down his spine along with a flash of memories.

Football game. Headache. Searing pain. Missing time. Blood. Rage.

Full moon. Awake, awake, awake.

“The frequency,” he breathes.

Lathan’s quiet with confusion, but Lucas looks over at Kylo. “You think it changed something?”

“It must have. It forced me to shift without a full moon. I think whatever effect it had… stayed .”

Lucas ponders for a moment before looking at the rest of the pack, discussing in small cliques. “My charge nurse has a nephew who goes to Obscura. Also a wolf. I’ll call her, see what I can find out.” He pulls out his phone, already walking away from everyone.

Lathan sniffles the remaining wet blood in his nose that hasn’t quite coagulated. “So much for appearances,” he mumbles, then lifts his eyes to Kylo. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I feel normal, but…stronger. Like every sense—every instinct —is crystal clear.” He turns his head to Lathan and his eyes dilate again, heart palpating at the mere sight of him now that his wolf is partway out of its containment.

“Mijo?” Maria asks hopefully, interrupting them.

“Yeah?” he replies calmly, looking up at her cautious approach.

His response sparks a palpable sense of relief in her as she bends down and hugs him, brushing back his perked canine ears. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She pulls back and holds his soft face. “What is this? Have you done this before?”

Her embrace is warm and welcomed from how cold everyone else has felt. “No. First time. Might be related to the frequency attack. Luc is looking into it.”

“Okay. Okay.” She bobs her head like a dashboard figurine. “I’m going to take you home. Both of you. The pack’s going to keep figuring things out and we’ll try again tomorrow with you. I’m so sorry, Kylo. I expected better from them.”

“I did, too.” Back on his feet, he holds out a half-shifted hand for Lathan.

Once he’s pulled up, Maria puts a hand on Lathan’s cheek. “Is it broken?”

He offers the smallest curve of his lips to her. “No.”

She smiles back sadly. It’s obvious she doesn’t know how to apologize for her pack’s behaviour—especially when they’re not her blood relatives—but an air of understanding is shared between them nonetheless.

As they make their way down the field once more, Kylo stands between Lathan and the pack defensively, glancing back at the crowd as they leave. Ethan stares at them from beside his father, who is flailing his arms as he yells about something to David. Though Chloe didn’t speak up earlier, she gives him a pained, apologetic look before turning to scold her dad and brother for their bigoted spectacle. And Patty raises her cup in the air to salute her farewell, to which Kylo gives a smirk and a nod in thanks. They’ll have much to talk about tomorrow.

Right now, his priority is getting Lathan home safe and making sure he’s well taken care of. Then figuring out how in the name of the gods to return to normal.

Climbing into the SUV, he has to duck his head and curl his limbs into himself. He’s five-foot-nine on a good day, and near seven feet during a full moon, so he assumes he’s somewhere in between the two measurements with the tight fit in the backseat.

As the vehicle rolls into motion, Maria tries to fill the air with light chatter, but it only lasts for a few minutes before it tapers out, presumably too exhausted by the day’s events to continue. Kylo catches her peeking back at the boys through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign to make sure they’re okay.

Clawed hand resting on Lathan’s thigh, Kylo watches mindlessly out the window, replaying the events in his head.

Hatred and anger had gripped his heart, and the visceral reaction his body went through when he felt Lathan’s pain through their bond was instantaneous. He shifted without even noticing—much quicker than any shift during the full moon, and, like the last full moon, it was mostly painless. Shifting under the full moon before the frequency felt muddy, but this felt pure .

That being said, he still can’t shake the deep-seated guilt and sorrow from the cost. A life taken by his own hands. His brain rewired by an attack of terror.

It’s sickening.

And the way his pack looked at him—the petrified stares, as if he were a monster—only solidified how unnatural this is. It’s wrong. He’s wrong. And the unknown consequences dangling above his head leave him with only one question:

What happens now?