Blood Marked: The Bone Moon Alphas

CHAPTER 7 - The Storm In His Chest

Kieran didn't stay. He looked at the mark blooming on Rhys's throat, looked at my swollen lips, and left without a word. But his shadows stayed for a second longer, and they slammed Rhys's medicine cart into the wall so hard glass shattered everywhere.

Rhys didn't even flinch. He just kept staring at the little silver-and-blood moon on his skin like it was a miracle.

"We should cover that," I said quickly, my heart hammering.

"No," he said, touching it reverently. "Let him see."

That was the problem with Alphas. They never wanted to hide. They wanted everyone to bleed knowing.

I skipped breakfast. I couldn't face the dining hall after last night. Instead I went to Combat Theory, because Lira had to be there and I had to take her notes, and because Jax Wilder would be there.

He was. Shirt off.

Nocturne's combat dome was a pit of black sand inside the volcano. No shirts allowed for advanced sparring — they said it was to prevent wolves from hiding injuries. Really it was so the Alpha girls could stare.

And they stared at Jax. Lightning scar running from his left shoulder down to his hip, like God had tried to strike him and missed. Muscles moving like water. Gold eyes always angry.

He was fighting three fourth-year Alphas at once. He was winning.

"Come on!" he snarled, grinning with blood on his teeth. "Is that all the North has?"

The three circled him. One shifted his claws. Jax laughed — and the sky inside the dome, which was supposed to be controlled weather, went black.

Lucien, watching from above, stood up sharply.

"Jax! Enough! Ground yourself!"

But Jax couldn't hear him. I could see it happening. His breathing went wrong. His hands started sparking uncontrollably. The scar on his neck lit up like a live wire.

His wolf was taking over and his power was feeding it, a loop. Storm eating storm.

"Jax!" his opponent shouted, backing away. "Man, calm down!"

Lightning struck the sand. Then again. Then again. The temperature dropped 20 degrees. Wind howled out of nowhere.

The other students screamed and ran for the exits. Kieran vaulted over the railing, shadows flaring to try to contain it. Silas was shouting something in Jax's mind that clearly wasn't working.

Rhys grabbed my arm from behind — when had he gotten there? "We have to go! When he storms like this, he blacks out! He almost killed Kieran last year!"

Jax fell to his knees in the center of the dome, clutching his chest, lightning pouring out of his mouth, his eyes, his hands. He looked like a dying star.

And I was running.

I don't remember deciding. One second Rhys was holding me, the next I was vaulting over the railing into the pit.

"KAIA!" three voices shouted at once.

The sand was hot, then freezing. Lightning hit me as I ran. It should have killed me.

It didn't. It sank into my skin and into the silver lines, which lit up like lightning rods. Nyx howled in triumph.

More! Give me more!

I slid to my knees in front of him.

Jax couldn't see me. His eyes were pure white, filled with storm.

"Jax," I said, touching his cheek. His skin was burning and freezing at the same time. "Hey. Hey, feral boy. Look at me."

He snarled, a sound not human, and grabbed my wrist, hard enough to bruise. Sparks jumped between us — but instead of hurting me, they flowed into me. I gasped as my whole body lit up.

I did what I had done with Rhys, but in reverse. I didn't give. I pulled.

I pulled the storm out of his chest.

It hurt. God, it hurt. Like inhaling lightning. My back arched, my mouth opened in a silent scream as power flooded me, too much, too fast.

Then — silence.

The black clouds above us cracked. Warm rain fell, but only in a perfect circle around us. It sizzled on the hot sand.

Jax's eyes cleared. Gold, wide, shocked. He was breathing hard, staring at me like he'd never seen me before.

His grip on my wrist softened. He turned it over and saw the bruise forming — and made a wounded sound.

"Did I — I hurt you?"

"I'm okay," I whispered, though my whole body was trembling. My silver veins were now faintly blue, crackling.

"You shouldn't be here," he choked out. "Everyone leaves when I storm. Even my own mother leaves."

"I'm still here."

I brushed wet hair from his forehead. The rain was soaking us both.

Something broke in his face. The cocky, mean champion mask fell off and underneath was just a 20-year-old boy who was scared of his own skin.

"They all think I like it," he whispered. "Being the weapon. I don't. I can't sleep when it rains because I think I'll call lightning in my dreams and kill someone."

I leaned my forehead against his. The rain made our skin slide.

"Then don't be a weapon with me," I said. "Be Jax."

He stared at my mouth. Then at my neck. Then back at my eyes, asking.

I nodded, just a little.

He kissed me like a storm breaks — all at once, desperate, messy, like he was trying to pour himself into me so he wouldn't have to hold himself alone anymore. He tasted like rain and ozone. His hands were in my wet hair, on my waist, everywhere, but careful not to hurt the bruise.

When we broke apart, both panting, the dome was silent.

I looked up. The entire Academy was at the railing. Kieran, Silas, Rhys, Lucien, Lira, 300 students.

And Jax, still on his knees, pulled me into his lap, right there in front of everyone, burying his face in my neck and inhaling deep, growling, "Mine. She smells like mine now. Like rain before my lightning."

His mark appeared on my wrist — a tiny silver lightning bolt, still crackling.

On the railing above, Kieran's shadows shattered a stone pillar in half.

Nyx laughed in my head.

Oh, this is going to be fun.