Page 29 of Blood Loss (The Obscura Saga #2)

KY L O

Stepping out from the main campus library—a massive building filled to the brim with books for the entire student body—the sun is warm on Kylo’s face. He takes a moment to breathe it in, be present, and make a conscious note of how grateful he is to be in school again. He hadn’t really been to the campus library that often before, but now it serves as a safe space where he can go to read, study, or hang out in the peace and quiet. That’s why he wanted to become a librarian in the first place. But now it just feels right .

Eunice said we’d meet nearby…

Two books pressed to his chest, and two more filling his messenger bag, he scans the forking paths ahead for the familiar duo. Not spotting them, he steps off the ramp and heads toward an empty bench.

I’ll just text her and see where—

“Ky!”

Spinning around on his heels, Eunice is waving her hand wildly above her head—sitting with Ellie on a checkered blanket in a small clearing of grass and trees between pathways. Seeing them immediately brings a smile to his face. It’s been so long, and so much has happened.

Ellie.

His stomach knots, but he breathes through the discomfort as he makes his way to their adorable setup in the shade.

Eunice’s fuchsia dress mushrooms around her petite hips. Beside her, little Ellie sports a softer smile, her leg and new prosthetic draped to the side—half her limbs now made of ivory and gold detailing, only adding to her doll-like appearance. He wonders if that’s the intended effect of the aesthetic choice—and then wonders if it’d be rude to ask.

“You’re late!” Eunice scolds.

“Sorry! I got a little distracted.” Kylo smiles sheepishly, gesturing with his books. “Hi, Ellie.”

“Hi, Kylo,” she peeps, smile growing despite anxious fingers fiddling with the fabric of her sage sundress.

He gestures at their cute little picnic, reminding him of the impromptu date he put together for Lathan last year. “You guys look comfortable.”

“We both burn easily—for different reasons,” Eunice teases, looking at her fair-skinned girlfriend, “so the shade it is!”

He grins and takes a seat at the edge of their blanket, where a sliver of sunlight fractures the fabric, placing his things beside him. “How have you both been?”

“It’s been…,” Eunice starts, the two women glancing at each other in solidarity. “Slow. Since spring. But every day gets a little ea sier.”

Ellie nods in silent agreement.

Kylo can only imagine what Ellie’s been through, from what he’s heard. Which is exactly why he’s worried about being here, with them, even if he wants to be. He doesn’t want to scare her, pressure her. He knows all too well how that feels.

“And…you’re sure it’s okay that I’m here?”

“Yes,” Ellie is quick to blurt out, before shrinking in what looks like embarrassment.

Eunice giggles under her breath, rubbing Ellie’s leg lovingly. “We talked it over plenty. We’re taking baby steps, but she really wanted to see you again.”

Ellie nods at Eunice again, then meets Kylo’s gaze. “I trust you.”

His heart clenches and his eyes sting with the threat of tears. He doesn’t know what to say. Even though her wounds weren’t made by his beast, he doesn’t feel like he deserves her trust. But he’s grateful. So unbelievably grateful.

“How have you been?” Eunice asks earnestly.

“I, uh”—pulling his knees into his chest, he swallows down the sting—“I’m doing better. I was pretty scared to be sent away, but I needed it. Rehab.” He tips his head in memory. Lathan shared what happened, why he wasn’t at school the first few weeks, but he’s not ready to share everything himself just yet. Just like Ellie—baby steps.

“My professors have all been really great about it, though. Gave me extensions for all my assignments without hassle. It’s only been a week, and I’m already back in the full swing of things. Not entirely sure I’m doing my best work, but I’m catching up.”

“That’s really good to hear. But don’t push yourself too hard. Like they say, ‘Cs get degrees.’ And if you need some extra help, don’t hesitate to ask! We can have study nights or something.”

“Only two terms to go. You’ve got this,” Ellie adds sweetly, causing Kylo’s entire body to relax.

Leaning back, he props himself up with his hands, fingers slipping between blades of grass as he sighs into the breeze. “Thanks, guys.”

“And how’s Lathan doing?”

“He’s okay.” Kylo shrugs. Though he’s loved being back, being with his mate again, now that he’s clear-headed, it has been different between them. Distant, in a different way than before. “What I did was hard on him, so we’re taking it slow, trying to find our rhythm again. My first night back was kinda rough, though. He had an accident with his fangs.”

With their bond disappearing almost entirely while on stardust, his flatline, and the distance pulling between them, he knows it was as hard for Lathan as it had been for himself, so he doesn’t blame his mate for needing time. They both do.

Eunice stares at him a little too long, her smile faltering slightly, morphing into slight concern with the dip of her brows. “An accident with his fangs?”

“Yeah, he accidentally bit his arm in his sleep or something. Not gonna lie, it was pretty rough.” He scratches his arm, remembering how scary it was—how that fear made him want to use again, just to calm down. “But I got him ice and tried my best to help him through it.”

Eunice is quiet. Averting her eyes, she brushes out her skirt, folded from the wind. “Right,” she says, her voice duller than he’s ever heard it. “Well, we’re a little worried about him. Haven’t heard from him since the first week of the term, and then he sent us a text this morning that was kind of weird.” She picks up her phone and opens the conversation, a group message; he sent to both Ellie and Eunice together. “I think you should read it,” she says, and holds out the phone.

‘Thank you both for being good friends. I’m grateful to have met you and seen your relationship work so beautifully together. Be careful, and take care of each other.’

“Oh, woah,” he breathes, heart sinking.

It sounds like a goodbye.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him.” He hands the phone back and looks down at the grass flowing in the wind.

It wasn’t an accident, was it?

The thought is hard to digest. How had he not noticed his mate struggling so badly?

Because he was also struggling, that’s how.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath before reaching over to collect his things. “Thanks, guys. Text me later and we can plan a study date, okay?”

◆◆◆

In rehab, he’d seen a vampire dealing with the effects of self-inflicted bite wounds—unable to withstand her withdrawal symptoms, she took it out on herself. It never occurred to him that Lathan could be doing it, too.

Everything he learnt at ARC replays in his head as he walks back to their apartment—the only thing keeping him levelheaded and unreactive.

I can’t relapse. Not ever. And especially not now. Lathan needs my help.

He blows out one long breath to gain the courage to open the door. When he does, his nose is hit with the mouthwatering aroma coming from the pan sizzling in the kitchen.

Lathan looks up from his work. His hair is all pulled back into a messy bun, bigger than it used to be with how long it’s getting, and smiles brightly when he sees Kylo, even flashing his teeth.

“Hey,” he says, glancing back at the stove to stir his ingredients. “Getting hungry? I’m making some stir fry. Have both noodles and rice—your choice.”

His smile hurts his chest with the knowledge that his mate is in pain behind the mask he’s presenting. “Smells great,” he offers, walking around to the peninsula. He sets his things down on the bar chairs across from Lathan. “Hey…can we talk? ”

“Yeah.” Lathan puts down the wooden spoon and takes the kitchen towelette off his shoulder to wipe his hands. He faces Kylo and leans against the counter beside the stove. “You okay?”

He nods, then takes another deep breath, remembering what he’s learnt in counselling. “I love you and I will never judge you. No matter what.” He speaks slowly and calmly, twisting the promise ring on his finger as an outlet for his nervous energy. “Eunice showed me your text, and with what happened Sunday night, I’m worried about you, baby.” His gaze lifts with dipped brows. “You’re not alone, I’m here for you. Always.”

Lathan smiles at Kylo. “There’s nothing to worry about.” He spins on his heel and plucks a jar of spices from the cupboard. “So do you want rice or noodles? We have those udon noodles you like. Or ‘the fat ones,’ as you always say.”

“Lathan…it sounded a lot like a goodbye.” His chest shudders, causing him to hiccup an inhale. He’s worked so hard to come back to his mate, but Lathan hasn’t been himself. He came back to a shell of the man he loves, and that terrifies him. Though his eyes are becoming glassy, he tries his best to hold it together, to be strong for him.

With his back to Kylo, he continues to cook, seasoning the beef and vegetables in the pan. “Why would it be a goodbye? I was just saying that I appreciate them.”

Kylo walks around the counter to stand behind him. “A vampire at ARC bit herself to deal with her drug detox… I should’ve known you were hurting.” Reaching out a hand, it falters as th eir bond pulses ; just as it had when he woke up his first night back; just as it had when he stood outside the bathroom door.

This whole time.

Our bond. It’s just like Charlie theorized. We’ve been a fucking feedback loop of pain. Hurting each other for months.

He’s been hurting this whole time and I didn’t know because I was on so many godsdamned drugs I thought it was all my own.

But I can feel it now. Like black rot poisoning our point of connection.

How much worse did I make it for him?

Fuck . How could I have been so blind?!

“Baby, I-I’m so sorry. For everything.” He swallows, now too aware of their bond, focused in on the invisible line connecting them. “I’m here for you, if you’ll let me in.”

“I told you it was an accident.” His tone borders on defensive, and he still doesn’t face Kylo. His agitation is growing, cornered like a mouse.

“Then look me in the eye and tell me what happened.” Though his words are firm, his tone hasn’t wavered from the softness of a worried loved one. His chest is heavy, scared to watch Lathan lie to his face, but he stands strong—clutching his ring, subconsciously box-breathing to keep calm.

Lathan takes a deep breath through his nose before whirling around. His eyes are dark, no longer bright like when Kylo walked in. No longer faking a mask. “You already know . I bit myself in my sleep. It happens.”

They had promised, back in their dorm room, they’d never lie to each other again.

And this lie stings more than he was prepared for.

Lips in a tense line, he shuts his eyes tight for a moment to stay centred, but a tear slips out. Kylo’s always been emotional, an easy crier, but right now is not the time. So he pulls himself together, and looks back up at him.

“Then why was there no blood on the bed?” His voice is almost a whisper. The answer is obvious, and he feels stupid he hadn’t seen it before, but he was so hopeful for things to go back to normal after rehab that he neglected what was right in front of him. “I’m not upset with you, I just want to help.”

Lathan’s brows knit with annoyance. “I don’t need your help,” he says flatly, then flicks the burner off, shoves the pan of hot food to the cool side of the stove, and storms out of the kitchen.

Lathan walking away feels like he’s slipping through his fingers.

Like this is the end.

But he’s not ready for that. They can’t end, not after everything. Not like this.

He follows after him. “ Please , just talk to me. We can figure this out together,” he begs, desperate for honesty, for a conversation, for Lathan .

“How?” Lathan snaps. “How can I possibly say anything to you?”

Kylo stops in his tracks, caught off guard by his anger, even if it’s justified. “I know. You have every right to be upset with me.”

“No, you don’t know,” he says desperately. “You have no fucking idea, Ky. Everything comes back to me. What I’ve done. You wanna hear it? Fine. I used to sleep with Trevor, and I can’t fucking take it, knowing what he did to you to get back at me. I can’t vent to you about what my mother told me when I didn’t get the internship this term, or how the doctor said I’m never getting my full hearing back. I’m fucking terrified of saying the wrong thing to you and finding you on the ground again.” His eyes have become wild; his pupils have shrunk, a panicked bodily response to his racing heart, the echo of the literal heartbreak he felt through their bond that day. “I can’t kill you again. I can’t feel you die again. So I can’t fucking tell you I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Kylo stands still as a statue, shocked to hear exactly how he affected him. His unblinking, round eyes overflow, spilling onto his cheeks, down his neck, soaking into his shirt. He wants to talk, to apologize until his lungs give out, to make it up to him, but he clings to Lathan’s last seven words.

You don’t want to be here?

It’s barely a whisper in his mind—or was it said out loud? Either way, it solidifies the fear he didn’t want to acknowledge when reading Eunice’s text.

Don’t go! I need you! Please, gods, don’t let him die! Don’t leave me! I’ll be better! I promise! Please!

The addict inside him screams behind the ivory walls of his skull, scratching, begging to come out, to plead, to cry, to make him stay. On the outside, he takes one last calculated breath and nods with a saddened smile. He can see the light inside Lathan dim, as if he has retreated inside, disappearing like Kylo had after Trevor.

“Why don’t we sit down, okay?” he forces through a tightened throat, gently easing him to sit on the couch.

Lathan’s silent. Even his steps back to the living room barely make any sound. Sitting on the couch, arms resting on his knees, his eyes are fixated on a spot on the floor, showing no emotion, just exhaustion. A depleted vessel.

Kylo pulls his phone from his pocket and dials the only person he can think of. As the phone rings, he chews on the nail of his thumb and huddles to the far side of the room, next to the balcony door, to keep the conversation somewhat private while still in eyesight of his mate.

“My shift ends in a few hours,” Lucas’ regular semi-annoyance palpates through the speaker. “Is this important?”

“It’s Lathan. I don’t know what to do.” His voice is trembling with the strength it’s taking to not properly sob.

There’s a short, casual pause, and the sound of papers or a clipboard as Lucas works. “Kylo, I’m not the right person to talk to about your relationship problems. Especially when I’m at work.”

“He’s been self-harming and he just said he’s suicidal. Luc, he’s shut down. I-I don’t know how to help him.”

The papers stop shuffling in the background. There’ s another pause, but this one is longer, feels serious; Lucas is thinking, switching from Big Brother to Medical Professional .

“You can’t. If he’s actually suicidal, he needs to be in a crisis unit. Forget calling the campus emergency line, they’re shit. The school’s clinic isn’t equipped for psychiatric care. But the General Hospital in Ridley is. Is he still talking?”

Kylo looks over to the husk of a person staring at the floor. “No, he’s not,” he says, this time it’s easier—Luc’s casual yet firm attitude bringing him back down. He wipes his cheeks of salty brine, rubbing the excess from his vision.

Lucas sighs. “Okay, don’t force him to. I know you like your answers, but pushing him right now isn’t going to help. If you can’t get him to go to the hospital, there’s a mobile crisis centre you can call, and they’ll come to you. And Kylo”—something shifts in Lucas’ voice—“you shouldn’t be handling this right now. Do you want me to call for you?”

A wave of emotions crashes over Kylo with Luc’s words. His hand covers his mouth, as if to keep it in, but his lungs struggle and shake as if he won’t. Softly pressing his forehead to the glass window, he takes a moment to let it simmer.

Last week he was in rehab. Though he was released, he’s still recovering. Though he wants to be strong, he has to admit when he himself needs help. Or this will all continue to tumble downhill.

“Yes, please,” he peeps through his fingers. Lowering his hand to the windowsill, he realizes how much he’s trembling .

“Keep your phone by you, I’ll text you after I call.”

Kylo can tell there’s more Lucas wants to say. He refrains—though Kylo’s sure he’ll hear it later. Lucas doesn’t hold things back unless he has to.

“Okay”—a smudge is left behind on the glass as he looks at Lathan, still unmoved—“thanks, Luc.” His brother is abrasive but reliable. And while Kylo won’t say how much this means to him, he thinks he knows.

The phone call ends without a goodbye.

Lathan’s still sat with a curved spine on the couch. Eyes shifting ever so slightly with thought, still transfixed on the floor. The bite from the other night is still healing, peeking out from his long sleeves; because he didn’t seal the wound, it’s likely to scar, just like the bite from his mother is still pink from the summer.

Kylo keeps his phone clutched in a tight grasp, fingers rigid around the silicone case, unsure if it’s due to the anxiety of hearing back from Lucas or to keep his hands from trembling.

Taking a seat next to Lathan, he hesitates but ultimately gives in and leans over, wrapping an arm around his back, resting his head on his shoulder. He’s cold. Colder than normal. As if his body is ready to give in. It feels like ice on their bond, freezing his chest. His heart aches and pulls as if he were back in Arizona, yet physical distance is no longer the issue.

It must’ve been so hard.

He nuzzles against him, as if to spark any warmth. His scent is dull, muted.

Your whole life you’ve suffered. A suffering I didn’t realize I was aiding in. You held on for as long as you could, but it was too much. I know that now. As much as I want to blame myself for not noticing, for not helping sooner, I can’t. I was gone. Gone for a long time—a lot longer than thirty days…

But, I’m here now. And I’m not leaving you ever again.

6:03pm

They’re on their way

He can’t bring himself to reply to Lucas, leaving only his read receipt as confirmation he’s seen the message, continuing to cradle his wounded mate.

Time feels as if it has stopped—despite the sun beginning to lower on the horizon, shining in through the windows with golden orange light, extending the shadows on the floor. Lathan is hardened like stone beneath him as Kylo waits, waits, waits. Unthinking, unmoving, as if he too is becoming statuesque.

Their apartment, a place between life and death. Frozen, grey, and painfully numb.

Limbo.

Eventually, there’s a knock on the door. Kylo peels himself off Lathan to let the crisis team in; they barely greet him, quickly asking where the affected individual is. Then the two responders move into the apartment and to the couch with the unmoving vampire. One stands, the other crouches before him, asking questions. Lathan barely answers, offering a single word here and there. His voice is phantom-like, not his own, like the wind has to bring it out of his depths. He confirms he’s been harming himself when they ask. And then, the worst question of all:

“Have you made plans?”

Lathan doesn’t budge for a long moment, and the team is patient. It’s The Question to answer. And then slowly, he lifts his exhausted, hollow gaze from the floor for the first time to look at the man crouched in front of him.

“Yes.”

That one word solidifies what Kylo already knew after reading Eunice’s message. He knew it when Lathan lied to his face. He knew, but he didn’t want to believe it. Because believing it hurts. Reality is painful—but necessary. Necessary in order for change.

After writing some things down, the woman standing behind her crouched partner steps forward. “Okay, Lathan, we’re going to take you to the General and get you a bed. Is that okay?”

Lathan is silent as the man lifts and slowly encourages him to his feet. The woman turns to Kylo. “If they have space and admit him, you won’t be able to go in with him. The ward’s protocol is to assess the patient on their own and monitor them before any visitors are allowed.” She gives him a sympathetic look and touches his shoulder with cautious fingertips. “We’ve got him.”

His fists clench, the desire to protest and stay with him screaming inside every fibre of his being.

This must be how he felt when I was admitted.

The thought ultimately eases his mind. Rehab was the best thing for him, and this will be the best thing for his partner. “Okay,” he exhales. “Can I say goodbye?”

She nods. “Of course.”

Lathan, back on his feet, looks almost off balance. Like he has no centre of gravity. Like he forfeited it.

Kylo walks up to him like a nervous child, wringing his hands. “Baby, I know this is scary—it was scary for me too—but everything will be okay. And the second I can come see you, I’ll be there. I promise.” As slow as he approached, he steps in close and holds him in a gentle embrace. “I love you,” he whispers to him, hoping those three words burrow their way through the bond, into Lathan’s chest, and plant themselves there to blossom over time. Just as they once had.

In the final moments of their embrace, Lathan manages to rest a hand on Kylo’s lower back—the most he can do to reciprocate the gesture.

Though the touch is brief and barely there, it burns like fiery validation.

He’s still in there .