Page 8 of Blood Loss (The Obscura Saga #2)

LAT H AN

While Kylo can’t wipe the smugness from his face—not that Lathan can deny how refreshed he feels—as they stalk across the yard to the back door of the main house, he wonders how Maria and David feel about a vampire joining their pack. They didn’t get a say, either. I can’t imagine it’ll be an easy adjustment for anyone .

Sliding the door open to the side, Lathan enters behind Kylo to find Maria moving her son’s laptop from the dining table, now covered in an array of quick lunch options. And even then—the pickled vegetables, freshly baked bread, homemade spreads, and warm, cured meats—the smells overwhelm his salivary glands. His parents mostly stopped cooking for him—or being home to cook for him—while he was still young, so having these foods straight from the heart, no matter how simplistic, isn’t something he’ll take for granted. It almost makes him nervous, as if he doesn’t deserve the gesture.

“That looks amazing, Maria,” he says, walking up to stand behind Kylo.

She places a large aluminum bowl of greens onto the table, and looks up with a mischievous, wide-spread smile across her face, turning her eyes onto Kylo. “Mijo, you were gone for a while”—her tone is both happy and suspiciously teasing—“I guess things went better than you expected, huh?” She looks between the boys before winking.

Kylo’s nostrils flare as his face flushes with deep, russety embarrassment. His sealed lips purse tighter as he looks up, shaking his head as if wanting to have a word with the gods that gave his mother such a bold personality.

But Lathan’s impressed by the woman’s boldness, even if his eyes widen, too. She’s so unlike the personalities of his own parents. This would never be a conversation—though, hardly anything is a real talk with them. They’ve never shown any intrigue into his love life. If anything, any part of it has been discouraged.

He folds his arms over his chest and clears his throat, looking over the food on the table. “Ah, yes, well apparently you know more about our sex lives than we do,” he says, and then lowers his voice to add, “seeing how I’m in the pack now.”

Maria’s cheeks bloom as she glances up, smiling in a way now that attempts, and fails, to hide her excitement. Her eyes dart to her son. “Mijo?” she asks under her breath, as if to confirm.

“I told him everything,” he squeaks in return, and his stare is even shinier than hers.

Maria beams and drops the stack of napkins in her hands to race over to them. “Qué buenas noticias!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around Lathan. “Oh, Lathan, I’m so happy for you both.” She leans out of the excited embrace to grip his upper arms and get a good look at him. “Welcome to the family.”

Lathan blinks at her, his lips parted with way too many emotions for him to register.

Family?

Maria’s motherly warmth radiates from her touch, from her sincere gaze, and his heart flutters at the acceptance, the embrace. Family.

“I… Thank you,” he finally says, voice a bit small for his stature. “And I’m sorry.”

Her elation fades to worry, wrinkling her forehead. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

“I’m not a werewolf,” he says, and there’s a hint of shame in his words. It makes him feel like his parents have won, that he feels this way—about his own species. “I don’t know anything about pack politics. This probably messes everything up.”

I mess everything up , he corrects inside.

“Had I known any of this, I wouldn’t have allowed Kylo to be in that situation.” It doesn’t matter that Kylo’s bite was an instinctual, bodily response, because Lathan’s the one that put them in the situation for it to occur.

Kylo opens his mouth, doubtlessly to protest, but Maria’s quicker than him. “Oh, honey, we don’t expect you to know everything right away. Gods! Even our son was lacking some crucial information, and he is a werewolf. Those things take time, but it doesn’t make you any less important. My son loves you, and so do we. Besides, I don’t know a whole lot about vampires either, so we can learn from each other, one step at a time, okay?”

Like a mirror, Lathan’s soft smile reflects Maria’s. His chest is warm—he’s never felt so genuinely accepted, loved , outside of Kylo. “Okay,” he says back, and steps forward to hug her, wrapping burly arms around her short frame. He swallows around the tightness in his throat. When he pulls back, his hand lingers on her shoulder for a moment before he puts both in his pockets.

“Oh”—Maria blurts, whirling around to jog back to the oven—“the cookies!”

Lathan sways closer to Kylo. He wants to pull him against himself, hold him, give him a kiss in the midst of this wave of surreal happiness. But he’s wary of PDA and how it conflicts with respect. When he’s around Kylo’s parents, he changes his language, makes an effort to censor himself, tries to be someone they can be proud to see their son with. And now, he has to prove his spot in their pack, so he really needs to be on his best behaviour.

So he follows Maria’s pattering into the open kitchen to help with whatever she has left, but doesn’t quite make it all the way before David thumps down the stairs.

“Ria? Where are the boys?”

Maria looks up from her cookie tray as he turns the corner. “They’re right here. Why?”

David’s face isn’t as casual or friendly as it normally is. He’s dishevelled as though he may have just woken from a nap, but he’s clutching a tablet in his hands. When he sees the boys, he props it up on the island’s granite surface with its case folded underneath, his grim expression immediately tainting the joy in the room. “It’s an update from Obscura.”

“An update?” Lathan mutters under his breath.

“What’re they saying?” Kylo nearly demands, leaving Lathan’s side to perch in front of the screen, swatting his dad’s hands away to increase the volume to its max.

Nicolina is seen standing behind the same podium as her last announcement. Looking as stoic and sombre as ever, her voice is stern as she recounts the events from her first statement before adding their update.

“Our internal investigation has come to an end, with a devastating calculation of over twelve-thousand injured and eighty-seven deceased.

“The attack conducted on March first was carried out by a nephilim student and a cambion from a neighbouring Ether university, with the goal of terrorizing Obscura Academy and causing mass destruction. They managed to broadcast a high enough frequency to trigger the werewolf community as if under a full moon, but their actions caused irreparable harm toward all who attended the football game that night. These two individuals have either been detained or neutralized.

“To all the werewolves who were involved—against your will—you will be contacted in the coming days by our representatives with any details found in our investigation. Counsellors will be provided to all students come Monday—see our website for more details.

“As the President, I offer my deepest condolences to the victims and their families. The Academy pledges to ensure events like this do not repeat themselves, so that we may protect and serve our community for a better future for all.

“All those who lost their lives that day will continue tolive with us, becoming immortalized in Obscura history as brave individuals who suffered a tragic end. Their names will be released in our full report, and a virtual memorial will be held in their honour on Friday, at five P.M., via our website.

“From all of us at Obscura Academy, thank you for your patience and may you all find solace.”

With an education in legalities and victimology, Lathan’s thoughts bubble coolly throughout the statement. His anger boils, hearing that it was deliberate, even though he already knew—but not that it was friendly fire, partly done by an Obscura student. What are celestials doing working together? The thought worries him, but the University’s president said both parties were contained—even dead.

The numbers are staggering. Twelve-thousand people injured due to the attack, and Lathan is part of that statistic. His hearing is dimmed and muffled, like the left canal has feverishly sprouted cotton, but it is returning. His right is still plugged, and has begun to ache on and off. It was the first to blow, and so he assumes it took the brunt of the frequency and is struggling to heal.

But the other number—

Eighty-seven.

Eighty-seven people died that night. And that’s assuming the number doesn’t continue to climb, that those hospitalized don’t succumb to their injuries.

He sways back onto his heels, thinking of Ellie. His hand grips the back of one of the stools tightly, his knuckles becoming white, pale skin straining. His jaw is clenched hard without him being aware of it. He tries to watch Kylo’s reaction out of the corner of his eye, without directly looking at him, because he knows he’s going to be terrified hearing the death toll.

And he doesn’t hide it well. While refusing to look up at anyone around him, his eyes are big and scared, and he rubs a spot on his collarbone raw and red while Nicolina enunciates the findings.

David shakes his head, arms crossed. “Why us?” he muses. “Why were the werewolves targeted?”

Lathan almost speaks, but decides to bite his lip instead. It was smart. Wolves are predictably unpredictable in their frenzies. If it was carnage they were after, the wolves were the right choice.

He rationalizes it like a lawyer, but that isn’t his true opinion. He’s gutted. Every day, he finds himself more comforted by the likes of wolves than vampires; every day, he wants to distance himself from who he is in his basic biology. His people—people like his new family—were forced to shred through their skin and viciously render others helpless. The attack was too smart, and that’s what’s even more sinister and terrifying underneath the reality of what happened.

“Oh, I’m so glad you boys are okay.” Maria stretches her arms to encompass both Lathan and Kylo, though just barely capable of it, squeezing them close.

Kylo gasps as he’s pulled into his mother, as if holding his breath. He closes his eyes, and Lathan knows it’s so he doesn’t have to face any of the people in the room yet.

Are we okay, though? he asks himself.

“You’ve had some time to settle in and recover from what’s happened, but, with this out now”—David speaks softly behind the group hug, placing a hand each on Lathan and Kylo’s shoulders—“it’s time we talk about what happened.”

Lathan touches the small of Kylo’s back gently as Maria gives them space, watching him shrink into himself before they take seats at the dining table. They’re both quiet, like they’re about to be interrogated. But he hasn’t done anything wrong in this situation. He was a victim. So was Kylo.

And everyone else.

“Dig in, guys!” Maria says, sitting across from Kylo. She smiles, but it’s strained, because she, too, knows they all need to talk.

Lathan forks some salad onto his plate and builds a sandwich. When he looks at Kylo’s plate, it’s more of a sad charcuterie of a couple cubes of cheese, some sweet pickles, and slices of capocollo, none of which he really touches.

After a few minutes of silence, everyone having taken a couple bites of food, David speaks up again. “This isn’t an easy conversation to have.” He pauses to take in a breath, eyes crinkling at the corners. “We can’t imagine what you two have been through, but we worry for you—both of you.”

Maria places a supportive hand on David’s as he frees the gathering phlegm from his throat. “Mijo, do you remember what happened to you?”

Kylo stares at his plate, picking up a hunk of cheese and rolling it between his fingers. “I, uh—no…not when I shifted.”

Lathan’s eyes flick between his plate and Kylo’s parents. He wants to be respectful and present, but guilt rises up from his stomach like acid, as if he should have tried to stay with Kylo during the event. Watch over him. Protect him from himself.

But he would have gotten himself killed—and almost did anyway—if he didn’t run away from him.

He stabs at some arugula in front of him.

“And after, when you came to?” David presses, slicing some salami to lay it on his bread.

“I…” The vowel slips out of Kylo’s mouth before he’s ready for it; he shuts his eyes, and the cheese in his pinch grip begins to shake. “I woke up in W Block. Obscura had us tranquilized and brought there for a few hours. Then I was released, and I walked back to the dorm.”

Lathan knows the details he’s leaving out, and he understands why. Being separated. Covered in blood. Tasting it in his mouth. Not knowing who he hurt, and stuck wondering if it was his mate.

David looks over at his son as he squishes down the top of his second sandwich. He nods and doesn’t pry—likely doesn’t suspect anything further—his shoulders seeming to relax a bit with relief.

“Lathan, honey, do you want to talk about what happened? That must’ve been so scary,” Maria says, her brows dipped with worry. Kylo might not have been conscious, but he was. “You don’t have to share—I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—but we are always here for you if you would like to.”

He looks up at her, almost startled. He knows how Maria is, but is still getting used to a parental figure actually bothering to ask questions. The stitched bite mark on his side is now sealed, though still healing. Maria and David, to his knowledge, don’t know he was attacked, just that he lost his hearing.

“I…” He hasn’t stopped to reflect on that evening, how it’s affected him. He went into survival mode, and there are gaps in his memory because of it. Losing his hearing was so disorienting that the chaos around him blurred together. But he doesn’t forget Ellie, or the state of her leg.

His face glazes over as he recalls the details, the bloodshed, the pain. The fear. And he loses himself for a moment at the dining table.

“It’s alright, dear,” she offers softly. Taking another bite of her lunch, she leans back in her chair and looks over to David with giddiness. “In other news,” she sings, “Kylo has talked to Lathan, and he has chosen to stay with us. Our son has found his mate.”

David sets down his knife—a bit too firmly—and croaks, “Oh!” with his mouth full of food. The word teeters between both excitement and worrisome, but he continues to chew, which leaves an awkward air between everyone. Lathan shifts when Kylo seems to notice and manages to look up at his dad, searching for a proper response.

“David!” Maria exclaims, slapping the hand she has hers resting on.

“Mm!” He shakes his head and waves his hands, swallowing his food dryly so he can speak. “No, no, that’s great.” He looks between Lathan and his son. “It’s great. It’s just… Well, you know how Grandpa is, Kylo. I just worry for you two.”

Kylo sighs under his breath; the cube of cheddar finally makes it into his mouth. “Yeah, I know,” he says, tucking the cheese into his cheek, “but we have you two. And probably Aunt Pattie. If Gramps doesn’t like it, too bad. They live three hours away anyway, so it’s not like we’ll see him often.”

Lathan looks at Kylo and David curiously. “Should I be prepared for something in particular?” He assumes he already knows the problem: he, himself. What he is. But David’s particular diction of ‘you know how Grandpa is’ makes him wonder if there are more documented triggers.

“Grandpa’s a conservative old man with nothing better to do than criticize others,” Kylo mutters to Lathan, rolling his eyes.

“My father,” David interjects, in a defeated sort of tone of voice, “one of the pack elders, is…challenging at times. He values tradition, much more than we do, but he means well. He just wants what’s best for the pack.”

Lathan nods out of respect, but logs the conversation and warning in his head. ‘Conservative’ is all he really needs to hear to understand the implications. While they’ve faced some prejudice in their relationship, it hasn’t been of that kind yet, but it was bound to arise at some point.

“I understand,” Lathan says, his eyes falling to David’s plate as a clump of sauce and veggies fall out of the backend of his sandwich. “Is there anything I’m expected to do? As a new pack member?”

“Oh, no.” Maria flicks her wrist in friendly reassurance. “There are ceremonies around mating and welcoming pack members, but we’ve never followed them—David and I, or Kianna and her mate, Bruce—so we wouldn’t expect you and Kylo to either. We will need to introduce you formally at some point, since you and Kylo are bonded, but there’s no rush. We will let you know anything you need to, don’t you worry.”

Kylo nods along as his mother talks, then looks over to watch Lathan take in the information, placing a hand on his thigh, squeezing softly in solidarity. Lathan cracks a half-smile at everyone, exchanging looks with the whole table, and tries to act casual, picking a piece of pickled radish on his plate. How big is this pack? How many people are going to know…that a wolf can mate with a non-wolf? He mentally sighs at the idea, but hopes it comes much more naturally as an institution to werewolves than himself, the whole mating process. But if the wolves at Obscura are any example, he’s going to have to brace himself for weird looks, curious whispers, and outright judgemental questions from the Garcia pack. The one he’s now biologically a part of. It’s embarrassing that a kinky little thing he wanted to try with his boyfriend is such a public notion now, but it doesn’t change how he feels for Kylo or what they did together.

“Does anyone else know yet?” he asks, bringing that poor, mauled radish up to his lips. “That Kylo has a mate?”

“Well, I didn’t tell anyone,” Kylo grumbles, looking over at his parents. David nearly chokes on his sip of water at the implication.

Maria gives her husband an unamused side glance as she responds herself. “Gods, no, we haven’t told anyone. Kylo hadn’t talked with you yet, and it wasn’t our place to say anything without your permission.”

“They’ll need to know eventually , but how they are told is up to you two,” David adds after successfully clearing his throat.

“Right,” Lathan says, “okay.” He almost expected Maria to excitedly run her mouth—at least to her other two children, Kianna and Lucas. Oh , he thinks to himself sarcastically, I’m sure Lucas is going to be thrilled .

He shoves more leaves into his mouth. Maria’s comment earlier about not knowing about vampires weighs in his bones, and he knows both of Kylo’s parents must have their own concerns about a different species joining the pack. They’re sweet and supportive, but this is essentially their family he’s spontaneously a part of, and they have the right to ask questions.

“Do you have any questions for me ?”

“Oh. Well.” Maria looks over to David with eyes wide with wonder, and then shrugs before turning back to Lathan. “Do you bite?”

Kylo erupts in a fit of coughs, and though predictable, Lathan is very grateful for his lack of blood volume, so his face doesn’t light up like his partner’s and give away how he very much does bite.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Maria shouts at the paled faces around the table. “Sheesh, tough crowd.”

Lathan actually smirks and releases a chuckle, which surprises Kylo beside him, chugging down water, because usually he shies away from this sort of conversation. After everything they’ve been through, Lathan’s become more and more ashamed of being a vampire, feeling awfully akin to a monster. But Maria’s innocent joke makes him laugh, and it isn’t forced.

“I can ,” he says once Kylo has mostly collected himself. “I do have fangs, but it’s considered impolite to show them. It’s a threatening gesture.”

“Oh!” Maria’s little canine ears perk up with intrigue. “See? Wasn’t a bad question after all! I’m learning!” She gives a single nod as she gestures to Lathan, as if he’s a teacher and Kylo and David are disruptive students.

Kylo sends Lathan a pathetic smile that says ‘I’m sorry this is what you signed up for.’

“So, hidden fangs, sensitive to the sun and heat, and blood drinking. I’ve got those covered. Are there any other facts we should know about your people? Biologically or socially? Or any vampire traditions you would like us to take part in?” Maria leans forward in her seat, eagerly crossing her arms on the table in front of her empty plate.

“Ah, no, not really.” He sets his fork down, pushing his plate a few inches away from himself. “Culturally, we’re quite a solitary species. We don’t have traditions that have stayed from our ancestors. None that my parents ever shared with me, at least.” He meets Maria’s eyes with a certain look, basically opening the door for her to inquire about his family if she wants to.

“And, your parents…” Maria speaks slowly, treading delicately as to not set off the bomb Kylo’s probably warned her of. “They’re not so present, I gather. What are they like?”

Lathan nods a couple times, sitting up straighter, as if he has to prepare himself. “You’re correct. They’re quite distant. I don’t speak with them often. They’re both international lawyers, and they’re very busy, but…” He considers how much to share, what language to use. “My mother calls the shots, and my father follows. It’s how it’s always been.” He shrugs. “I’ve never been close with either of them.”

He doesn’t mention the full truth. That his mother rarely speaks directly to Lathan, commanding his father to pass on information like Lathan is below her in rank. That his father never intervened when she’d hit their only child, or scream at him, or threaten him. They’re both terrible parents, and should have never had a child.

He can tell by the look on her face that she’s fighting to not voice her opinion—likely one of judgement toward his neglectful parents, despite his lacklustre description of them. “Well, I hope this isn’t too forward, since you’re new to the family, but I hope we can be close one day.”

His heart rattles in his chest. Once again, his smile is genuine as he offers it to her. Me too.

David twists to face Kylo. “The others can find out in due time, but you should call Kianna and Lucas. It’ll be better if they know first.”

Better to have more backup when confronting Grandpa, he must mean.

Lathan tenses his jaw to keep his smile from slipping. He doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, yet has stepped into that exact role.

He nods minutely at Kylo, granting him permission to tell his brother and sister about the new status of their relationship.