Rebel Hearts

By Alexander Verlangen

Kennedy is full of secrets. He has superpowers. The superpowered are feared and imprisoned, and Kennedy’s nightmares come to life when his powers are discovered. Sent to an underwater prison run by two tyrants, he is forced to compete to the death against other superheroes in a deadly tournament.

It doesn't help that his team leader, Aidy, is enchanting, protective, loyal, and charming. The last thing Kennedy needs is a distraction.

No one believes rebellion is possible. No believes living is possible. Can Kennedy find a way to win and keep Aidy, too?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Apr 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9781685507190

Book preview

Rebel Hearts

By Alexander Verlangen

Published by Queerteen Press

An imprint of JMS Books LLC

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2024 Alexander Verlangen

ISBN 9781685507190

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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To the fighters.

* * * *

Rebel Hearts

By Alexander Verlangen

Prologue

Luke

I am millions of particles, countless pieces of myself. Broken into shatters of identity, memories, dreams, hopes, and loss. I am a conglomeration of what-ifs. If I were a math symbol, I would be division. Thousands of parts of me divided into smaller and smaller substances of less and less hope.

It didn’t used to be this way. Once, I daydreamed about my future. I imagined my arms around some yet-to-be-discovered soulmate.

Then reality happened. I woke up sobbing, my body convulsing, as my heart pounded into what could only be an impending explosion. My parents would hold me, trying to soothe my agony. Agony is what I came to know. Agony became my normal.

Years past. I learned to live with pain. As the years elapsed, my parents died, lovers faded, and I remained. I never looked a day past twenty-four. My pale skin, blue eyes, and short brown hair never aged into wrinkled grayness. My body never dissolved into dust.

Some considered us warlocks, others thought of us as superheroes, and a few thought of us as gods. Not even I knew how to label myself. Most vanished with the rest of my world. Only the occasional immortal would join me. They often lived shorter lives than mortals, dying in combat or on some fantastic journey. I used to have those journeys.

I discovered my magic by the sudden realization that my father would die. I knew how, I knew when, and I knew there was nothing to be done. I had always had the power to sense death. For most, death was an abstraction. It is an impending end to a hopefully long journey. Death is a constant reality to me. Death is a person, moment, or event. I can feel his approach. I can see her movement. I know when and how they plan to strike.

It was not only death I sensed. I read people. Mortals were merely books to me. I sensed their emotions, fears, and insecurities. I saw into their souls and read them as if they were novels. If I wanted, I could close my eyes and communicate with anyone. I could whisper into their thoughts.

These powers may not seem awe-inspiring. No super strength or speed, no magic touch that can heal. I cannot shapeshift, nor am I an alien from another galaxy. I have no tail or wings. However, when I applied to join a small group of heroes who possessed powers and magic, I was immediately accepted. Most were rejected. They had some powers but nothing substantial enough to warrant the burdens placed on heroes.

The power to sense when death planned his strike allowed me to keep the other heroes alive, mostly. I could tell them what to avoid, who to send, and who to protect. I could warn them which endangered citizens needed help.

I could also serve as their nurturer. I knew their pain and emotions, and they spoke to me. I ensured they not only lived but lived happily. I loved it. I could take care of those who took care of the world.

That was hundreds of years ago. The heroes were discovered and feared. We were run underground. We survived in the dark. Eventually, death covered everyone. I told them if they kept being heroes, they would be hunted and executed. There would be no survivors. They decided to die as they were. They refused to live as if they were nothing. They were burned as witches. The last of my kind died in Salem. Now, I am alone.

I thought I would grieve, and grieve I did. Yet, daydreams of a cottage and a man by my side clawed its way out of my mind and into my heart. I had almost never loved before. There had been romances. I dated someone when I was eighteen and had substantial feelings.

* * * *

I loved a man once. One hero, Serum. I fell for him hard and fast. He lived in the Atlantic. Not the coast or on a ship. He lived underwater. I’d sail two days, and he would surface, looking at me affectionately. No matter where I ended up, exactly forty-eight hours after I left the shore, he would appear. I never found him. He found me. He would emerge with short dark hair sticking every which way, looking perfect, and abs glistening.

I read him. He was such a beautiful story. Imperfect, but his heart was in the right place. He wanted to do good. He was wise and immortal like me. This immortality made him harder to read. It allowed parts of him to remain conflicted and a mystery. His inevitability and unattainability allured me.

He died like the rest. He was one of the first to be burned. Before and after him, I hid.

Since the mid-1800s, I have hidden in London. I know what it was like to love. I knew what family and friends were and how they completed you. I loved that love. I knew if I went out, I would meet others, and I would love them. There are small bands of superheroes around the world lying low in the dark. Their deaths would destroy me. I am already so destroyed. I cannot burden my heart with more pain. Pain has tortured my heart. I could not ask for it to be divided again. Instead, I subdued it with books and daydreams of a life that could have been. A life that almost was. I told myself one day. One day.

Yet, life is changing against my will. I sense their presence, their pain, and their confusion. Sometimes, I talk to him. I sensed the presence of difference before, but nothing like this. Everything is about to change.

* * * *

Chapter 1

The alarm pierced the morning. Kennedy grumbled, reaching for his phone for the fourth time. The morning sun lit his room. His bed was a mess. His computer lay open on end and the other his discarded shirt. No one could accuse him of being tidy.

Kennedy rubbed his eyes. He stood, facing the day. Fall leaves covered the mountainous peaks surrounding him. His room was nothing special. Yellow walls, a gray bedspread, and a wooden dresser. Posters of his favorite tennis stars were pinned to the walls.

It was late. He had ignored too many of his alarms. Kennedy grabbed his shoes and shirt and ran downstairs. His duffel bag was next to the door.

Anyone here? he called, already knowing the answer.

Neither of his parents had ever been present. They had a nanny as a child who dropped him off at school. Since he started high school, he took care of himself. They spent most of the year vacationing without him. He wasn’t even sure if he had their phone number.

When no one responded, he grabbed his bag and took off. The crunch of the yellow and red leaves beneath him was familiar. The mountain was chilly, and the hills cumbersome to jog. He lived in a small city at the heart of the Rockies. Only a few thousand people lived in his city. There were about a hundred students at his school. Dozens of them were walking or biking next to him as they made their way to the first practices of the year.

The one and only reason people knew of his city was because they won championships. Every year, in most sports, they would rise to the top. Being an athlete was everything.

The air smelled of rain and grass. His shoes were wet, touching the slick plants beneath him. The wooden fence surrounding the school came into view. Their school looked like a giant cabin. Kennedy smelled the pine trees. With a sigh, he forced himself inside.

The linoleum floors were white, and the walls were wooden. His wet shoes slipped against the floor as he ran to the pool. The locker room was empty as he changed. He never liked the sight of himself in a swimsuit.

Short blond hair, freckled skin, and a thin tall frame. The only part of his appearance he liked was his bright golden eyes. Neither of his parents had such eyes. He wondered where he got them from.

What took you so long? Matt hissed, sitting on the side of the pool, his legs in the water.

Most of the other students were in their lanes, stretching and preparing for their impending workout. Matt’s green eyes narrowed. He pushed his hands through his curly brown hair. Matt was handsome. He had a much more muscular body than Kennedy.

I ignored my alarm. Looks like I made it in time, Kennedy observed, jumping into the water.

The water was cold and caused Kennedy to shiver. The transcendent blue water was fresh and clean. Untouched from sweat or competition. Kennedy cursed himself for not training over the summer. Every summer, he promised he would. He never did.

Their coach was a cruel man. His entire identity was based on his work. His graying hair and grimace met the team.

Start swimming laps. You know the drill, Coach Jacobson growled. He blew his whistle.

Kennedy pulled on his goggles and pushed off. He started with a simple front crawl. It was an easy movement. The traditional swimming stroke. He moved his hands through the water like a knife, cutting his way through the pool.

He flipped and lapped Matt. He caught Matt’s eyes. His dark green eyes were glaring at Kennedy with envy.

It was easy to get lost in thought while swimming. Sometimes, he thought of how Matt had changed. His former kind friend was now edgy and, at times, cruel. He would shoot insults shaded as jokes. Kennedy forced those thoughts out of mind.

The water was still cold. Kennedy increased his pace, wanting his body to warm. The rhythm of the familiar movement eased Kennedy back into the sport. He could feel his heartbeat quicken as he pushed himself. He ignored those around him and focused on exerting himself as hard as he could.

Exhaustion felt better than emptiness. The feelings of being different and separate from his peers could be lost in fatigue. His breaths increased, the inhales sharp and desperate. Warmth finally filled him.

For a few laps, everything was as it should be. Then everything changed. As it often did. The coach blew his whistle, indicating the end of practice. Kennedy gripped the side of the pool, gasping. His forehead was sweaty, and his body was too hot.

The heat in his body was only building. It felt like he was on fire. Every inch of him burned. He stifled a cry of pain. He knew this feeling. He had experienced it since childhood. No doctor could ever determine what caused it.

Are you coming? Matt asked, pulling himself out of the pool. He grabbed a towel, waiting for Kennedy to join the rest of the team in the showers.

I’ll meet you there, Kennedy responded, avoiding Matt’s eye.

You’re so weird, Matt complained, leaving Kennedy in the pool.

The pool was empty. Matt, his parents, and other friends knew of the pain. They didn’t know the complete truth. Kennedy would never tell anyone. He knew what happened to those who were different. They were taken and never seen again.

Kennedy breathed, trying to cool himself. It didn’t work. The heat built, and Kennedy swore the water boiled around his hands. He looked down to see his hands had turned a fiery blue. Steam covered him as his body boiled the water around him. He closed his eyes, wishing the heat away. It didn’t work.

::Breathe, think of the water and sky,:: a British man’s voice instructed.

Sometimes, Kennedy would hear this man’s voice when his powers were activated. Kennedy was certain he was losing his mind.

Every moment caused panic. He watched the doors, hoping no one walked in. After fifteen painful minutes, the heat faded. His temperature cooled. Kennedy was covered in sweat. Managing these moments was more exhausting than any workout. His body was sore and exhausted. He pulled himself out of the pool and dragged himself into the showers.

Took you long enough, Matt called, staring at Kennedy.

Kennedy blushed, surprised to see his friend waiting for him in the lockers. Matt’s green eyes narrowed, his face unreadable. Kennedy was frightened that Matt had seen what happened. He didn’t know how to respond. Kennedy turned on the water, feeling the warm water run down his body. Matt’s eyes never left him.

How are things with Carly? Kennedy ventured, trying to break the tense moment.

Matt turned his shower off and dried himself. He dressed in his usual designer clothes. A collared white polo and brown khakis complete with leather shoes. Matt styled his hair, making sure it looked perfect. He took a selfie and posted it to social media.

Fine. We’re celebrating six months next week. Do you have anyone? Matt asked, his voice cold.

They left the lockers. The school was crowded with students preparing for their first day back. Kennedy chuckled, shaking his head. It wasn’t like a small Colorado city offered many options for him.

Hoping to meet someone at tournaments, Kennedy responded, shrugging. It’s great things are working with Carly, Kennedy added, scanning the hallway for her.

The three of them had started as a trio. They met as babies. Their parents were neighbors. They went to the same preschool and had never separated. He viewed Carly as a sister. It was weird to think of Matt and Carly together.

Carly’s long blonde hair was visible through the crowd. She was taller than most. An athlete who was a fellow swimmer as well as a volleyball player. She was one of the most popular girls in their school.

Hey, Ken, Carly greeted, offering him a quick hug. Her brown eyes scanned Kennedy, her expression less warm than usual.

It was a weird look. Kennedy wondered if Matt had told her something. Carly turned and focused on Matt. Their kiss caused Kennedy to grimace.

What’s your schedule? Carly questioned, staring at her phone. I have advanced placement biology, AP trigonometry, advanced calculus, and AP world history, Carly read, frowning.

Matt and Kennedy exchanged looks. Carly was determined to get out of this city. She took AP college classes whenever she could and had driven up her GPA. It wouldn’t surprise Kennedy if, at the end of the year, she was valedictorian.

Physical education, history, math, and photography, Matt responded, blushing. Matt struggled with school and took classes with professors who had a reputation for being easy to pass. He was counting on an athletic scholarship.

The bright screen of Kennedy’s phone lit. He was as intentional as Carly was about leaving this city. He needed more options. He couldn’t imagine a future in this small place. Sometimes, he grieved that. He loved the mountains. The animals and nature would be hard to say goodbye to. The judgmental people and constant gossip would not be missed.

Physical education, orchestra, advanced calculus, and AP world history, Kennedy answered.

Carly glared at him. In these moments, Kennedy wondered if they were still friends. He had been intentional about making sure he had a class with Matt and couldn’t avoid sharing two classes with Carly. She would not talk to him at school. After, she would text him and pretend things were fine. Like she always did.

I’m going to head out. I see Aiden, Kennedy decided, waving goodbye to them.

As much as Kennedy fretted over his friendship with Matt and Carly, he thanked the stars for Aiden. They had met only three years ago in high school.

Kennedy! Aiden proclaimed, his thick curly brown hair bouncing as he ran.

Aiden’s body was muscular. He was short but hefty. They hugged, Aiden’s brown eyes sparkling.

How was football practice? Kennedy asked, relaxing as he fell into a more comfortable conversation.

Well, coach is on us. He really wants to win state again. New kids aren’t that good. It will be rough, Aiden confided, frowning. Tina asked me out, Aiden added, beaming.

Of course, she had. Everyone in Kennedy’s life was dating someone. Kennedy forced a smile, hoping he would not spend all his time with her. He needed to get through his last year of high school.

The bell rang. Aiden and Kennedy had matched most of their schedules. Matt joined them in physical education. They sat on the gymnasium floor, listening to the teacher ramble through their syllabus.

We’re just going to be working out. Why can’t we just do that? This is boring, Aiden complained, blinking to keep himself awake.

Looks like our teacher could use some more physical education, Matt insulted, rolling his eyes at the older man speaking.

Such jokes did little for Kennedy. He liked their professor. Mr. Green was in his sixties and had always been kind. Kennedy imagined when he was