Ryker was lying in his bed, the shades closed. The world was muted beyond the heavy curtains, a distant hum of life that felt completely detached from the suffocating shame he wore like a hat.
He heard the door opening, Liv and Alya had returned. They quietly tip-toed as if not to disturb a sleeping tiger. Pulling the duvet, they sneaked into his bed. A sapphire head and a purple head pecked him on the cheeks as he pretended to be asleep, they then cuddled him. Liv from the left, Alya from the right.
For a little while, he allowed the warmth to seep in. But the comfort was a lie, a temporary reprieve, he knew they were pitying him too.
Without a warning, Alya bit into his neck with her normal teeth, sending a shockwave of pain.
"Ow what?" Ryker jolted up, sitting upright. The dim light did little to hide her guilty-as-sin expression.
"Alya?!" Liv said.
She was about to freeze the mermaid until Ryker stopped her.
"It's fine," he rubbed the teeth marks and looked at Alya, "Why did you do that?"
He wasn't even angry, just genuinely confused.
"You weren't biting me back," she said, her lower lip trembling slightly, "I want to be marked too."
He let himself fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion replacing the brief spark of pain.
A new message vibrated from his phone on the nightstand.
"Why do you want to be marked?" Liv inquired, her voice laced with a mix of scientific curiosity and genuine bafflement.
"By a laughing stock no less," Ryker said, "A weak laughing stock."
Alya didn't seem to notice the sting in his words. Instead she snuggled closer.
"You could be the weakest vampire and you'd still be my husband," she chirped.
She suddenly got out of bed.
"Back in Atlantis, everyone kept calling me the 'Ditzy princess' and saying I'd never find a decent husband," she began pacing, her movements agitated, a nervous energy thrumming through her. "That I'd have to pay them to even look at me or they'd marry me for my family."
The sincerity of her confession was like a splash of cold water. Her usual carefree demeanor was replaced by something raw and fragile.
Her feet, no longer mermaid tail, were stomping softly on the plush carpet.
"So I left Atlantis with big sis's help and found Revera City, a tiny city on the coast where no one knows about baba."
She finally sat down at the foot of the bed, her hair cascading over one shoulder. She looked at Ryker with tears forming in her eyes.
"You were the first person who talked to me without knowing my last name. You thought I was weird but you still didn't run away."
A tear trickled down her cheek, then another.
"So you don't have to be strong Ryker. It's okay if you're last place. Just don't abandon me."
She wiped her tears, but it did little to hide them.
Liv was speechless. She had seen Alya as an obstacle. A delusional brat playing house. Now, she saw that Alya was the same as her. She was just a lonely girl desperate for love. Her fingers clenched the bedsheet as she saw the reflection of her own anxiety in the mermaid.
She stood up and hugged the weeping mermaid. Liv glanced at Ryker as she did so, her ruby eyes telling him to do something, to say something.
He got an upset stomach. His pride was crushed yet these women didn't see him as a joke. Liv would always be there and now Alya wanted to do the same.
"Liv can you give us a moment."
He gently pulled the vampire away from the sapphire-haired girl. The vampire left the room, but her nails dug into the door frame, an unspoken hesitation.
Ryker pulled the crying mermaid into a hug. Guilt was swirling inside of him because he still didn't reciprocate her feelings.
"Alya," he started, but then words failed. What could he possibly say?
Should he tell her he doesn't love her? That he thought about using her family name like all those men she described, but for knowledge instead of money. The shame of that realization burned in his chest. Now more than ever he needed a powerful ally. What would be better than the Kraken's granddaughter?
No. The truth is his boundary.
"I don't love you Alya," he said with an exhale, the truth a bitter pill he had to swallow. The simple act of saying it took more strength than facing the orc, more resolve than escaping the trap, more courage than taking the exam.
Never lie.
She pulled back, her pink eyes wide with disbelief and pain. She stared at him, searching for some sign that he was joking, a cruel prank to match her earlier bite. All she found was raw honesty in his gaze.
"So..." she whispered, her voice cracking. Another tear traced a path down her cheek, "You don't want me?"
Ryker looked into those watery eyes, a sea of desperate affection.
He pulled her closer again, resting his chin on the top of her head. The scent of salt and sea filled him.
"I'm a Dracula. Well a defective Dracula. I don't need money or power, not in the way others do. That's not why I let you stay."
He paused, feeling her tense in his arms.
"When I drink the blood of someone I can get their magic. With you I wanted your water magic, for a second there. I wanted that power," he confessed, the shame of the admission making his ears burn.
"And you want my grandma's power," she stated. It wasn't a question.
The thought of wielding whatever magic the Kraken had was still a dark tempting ember in his mind.
"So if I give you this power, would you love me then?"
A bitter laugh escaped him, more of a sigh than a sound. "No, Alya. That's not how it works."
He pulled back slightly so he could look at her, truly see her. See the desperate hope and the crumbling fantasy on her face. Could he love her? As he stood there with her in his arms, he wasn't sure. Maybe the potential was there, a small, fragile seed buried beneath the chaos.
"You came into my life like a hurricane, you and your claim laws and your Kraken grandmother," he managed a small, weary smile.
"You didn't give me a choice in any of it. You can't be angry that my feelings don't just click into place because you snapped your fingers."
He was holding a living breathing creature in his hands and was afraid of squeezing too hard. Alya's breath hitched. She looked away from him, down at her hands, which were clenched into small fists on her lap.
"Bite me," she didn't meet his gaze.
"What?" he stammered
"I said... bite me. Take my magic."
She finally looked at him, her eyes blazing, no tears now. Just pure, raw will. "And then fall in love with me."
The raw command, the absolute certainty that this magical act was the ultimate key to his affection, was so insane it was almost endearing. He looked into her determined face and saw a reflection of the same obsessive fire he'd seen in Liv's. It was a flame fueled by fear of abandonment.
Ryker let out a sigh, a rush of hot air that smelled of regret.
She was holding her hair away, her neck exposed. He was a starving man offered a banquet and he knew he shouldn't eat.
"Alya. That's not love."
Frustration contorted her face. She grabbed his shirt, her fingers digging into the fabric, her knuckles white.
"Bite me."
Her eyes were locked onto his, refusing to let him look away. He saw no manipulation, just an all-consuming belief in this ritual, a conviction as deep and as dangerous as the ocean trenches she came from.
A second later his fangs were in her flesh, drinking her crimson blood like a smoothie.