Here's a refined and emotionally charged version of the scene, with heightened character dynamics and vivid descriptions:

Red. A color of contradictions. It coursed through the veins of every living thing, a hue so beautiful and dangerous it could embody both love and hate. It was the color of passion and fury, of life and death. Morgan had always found himself drawn to it.

Along with gold.

"Morgan?" a deep voice said, pulling him from his thoughts.

He blinked, golden eyes meeting red strands that framed Atlantis's face, the soft light catching on his scales. The sight sent a flicker of warmth down Morgan's spine, stirring something unfamiliar yet achingly familiar within him.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice soft, "It seems my thoughts took me far from here."

A low chuckle rumbled from Atlantis, a sound so lovely it almost brought tears to Morgan's eyes. "Your mind has always been floating away," Atlantis said gently, a teasing note in his voice. He reached into his pack, pulling out a small dish and offering it to Morgan.

The simple gesture tugged at Morgan's chest. Atlantis was always so kind, so patient—forever putting Morgan's needs above his own. A deep, gnawing guilt took hold of him. He couldn't remember what Atlantis truly meant to him, though he knew there had been something, something important. The echoes of a bond lingered in the quiet moments they shared, but the memories of it remained frustratingly out of reach.

He took the food, managing a small smile in Atlantis's direction before eating half-heartedly. The meal tasted of the sea, but Morgan barely registered the flavors. His mind was too preoccupied with the weight of his amnesia and the silent chasm between them.

"Isn't that Caspian?" Cassio's voice broke through his thoughts. The light faery flitted excitedly beside them, his glowing hands waving in the air. His luminescence brightened with his enthusiasm. "Look, over there!"

Morgan followed Cassio's gaze to the horizon, where a lone figure swam toward them. Black against the shimmering blue, the figure moved with urgency. He felt Atlantis stiffen beside him, his hand instinctively moving to the spear strapped to his back.

Morgan placed a hand on Atlantis's shoulder, the contact sending an unexpected spark through his skin. "It's okay," he murmured, though the jolt lingered, quickening his pulse. He pulled his hand back, focusing instead on the figure approaching.

Caspian.

The merman stopped a short distance away, his breath ragged, his gills flaring with exertion. "Thank the gods I found you," Caspian said, his voice strained. The usual black aura around him had dimmed, replaced by a strange, shifting shade of gray. It seemed to shimmer faintly, as though his very essence was unsettled.

Morgan tilted his head, studying him with sharp curiosity. "What ails you, Lord Caspian?"

Caspian's expression tightened, confusion etched across his face. "I seek your help. Something has happened that I don't understand."

"What is it?" Morgan asked, though a small grin threatened to pull at the corners of his lips. He could already sense the answer. "Is it the human?"

Caspian hesitated before nodding, his unease clear. "He looks different... more fish than human."

Morgan's golden eyes lit up, excitement bubbling beneath his composed facade. "Did you complete the bond?" he asked, though his tone already carried a note of certainty.

"Yes," Caspian admitted, the word barely leaving his lips before Morgan darted forward, speeding past him with a flash of gold and red.

"Then let's see what your bond has created," Morgan called back, his grin finally breaking through as he surged through the water with a sudden, almost childlike exhilaration.

Atlantis watched him go, his gaze darkening as he gripped the spear tighter.

*****

Marcus splashed seawater over his skin, letting the cool liquid quench the dryness that seemed to creep back moments after it was gone. It was a ritual he found himself repeating incessantly, though it offered only temporary relief.

Ever since he'd woken, the changes in his body had grown more pronounced. The tattoos now covered most of his torso and arms, blending seamlessly with the black webbing between his fingers. Fish-like scales had begun to appear in patches along his sides and forearms, glinting faintly under the light. The most unsettling feature, however, was the webbing that had sprouted over his ears. He had first noticed it when he ran a hand through his hair, the silky tips brushing against his palm like a whisper of something alien.

A shiver ran down his spine. He knew little of Caspian's world—just fragments of stories and glimpses of the man who now claimed him as his mate. But the thought of his body transforming into something inhuman, a creature of the sea, brought more dread than comfort.

The worst part was how little he truly knew Caspian. He didn't know his favorite color or his favorite food, the details that grounded someone in reality. Their connection was forged in fleeting touches and wordless glances—silver eyes meeting black orbs that seemed to see into his very soul. It was strange to feel so tethered to someone and yet know so little of them.

"You must be Marcus," a voice interrupted his thoughts, smooth and lilting like the current.

Marcus turned sharply, his breath catching. Time seemed to slow as his eyes locked onto the most peculiar creature he had ever seen. The merman's dark hair, tangled with strands of green seaweed, cascaded over his scale-covered shoulders. Tattoos swirled across his body in intricate patterns, emphasizing his lean, powerful frame. But it was his eyes—vivid green and cat-like—that held Marcus captive. They gleamed with curiosity, their intensity unsettling yet strangely magnetic.

Marcus swallowed hard. "I am Marcus. Who... who are you?"

The merman swam lazily around him, his movements graceful and predatory. His gaze lingered on the black webbing between Marcus's fingers and the delicate spikes that protruded from his back, barely visible above the waterline.

"I am Morgan," the merman murmured, his green eyes sweeping over Marcus's altered form with unnerving interest.

Instinctively, Marcus crossed his arms over his chest, feeling self-conscious about his lack of muscle compared to the other merman's sculpted physique.

"You're Caspian's mate," Morgan hummed, his voice low and thoughtful.

At the mention of Caspian, Marcus's ears perked up, his heart quickening. "Do you know him?" he asked, his voice a little too eager.

Morgan's lips curved into a sharp smile, revealing shark-like teeth. "Not well, but he has sought my help."

"Morgan!" another voice called, cutting through the stillness of the ocean.

Marcus turned to see a striking figure swimming toward them, red hair flowing around a pale face like flames against porcelain. Golden eyes glowed with an emotion Marcus couldn't quite decipher—concern, perhaps, or something more complex.

"Don't swim away from me like that!" the newcomer cried, his voice firm but laced with something softer. His hands twitched as though he wanted to reach for Morgan but restrained himself at the last moment.

Morgan blinked at him, unbothered. "Sorry, Atlantis."

Marcus's brows furrowed as he observed the two. There was something between them, something unspoken yet undeniable. The tension in the air was palpable, though neither seemed inclined to acknowledge it aloud.

A familiar presence broke through Marcus's thoughts. He felt a warm arm wrap around his waist, pulling him against a solid chest. His heart stuttered as shivers raced down his spine.

"Caspian," Marcus murmured, his voice soft as he turned to face his mate.

Caspian's black eyes, swirling with tenderness, met his silver ones. His thin lips tilted upward in a rare smile, and Marcus felt his nerves ease, if only slightly.

Caspian gestured toward the two other mermen. "This is Morgan, a witch, and Atlantis, a prince from the Emerald Kingdom. Morgan's self-proclaimed guardian," he said, his tone teasing as his gaze flicked to Atlantis.

Atlantis glared at Caspian before looking away with a huff, making Marcus stifle a giggle. There was a flicker of warmth in the interaction, though it seemed edged with long-standing frustration.

Morgan rubbed his hands together, his green eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So, when did the transformation start?" he asked, his voice sharp and inquisitive.

Marcus nibbled on his lower lip. "Last night, a few days after the bite."

A strange expression flickered across Morgan's face, one Marcus couldn't read. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were piecing together a puzzle, and he swam closer.

Before Marcus could react, Morgan's face was mere inches from his, their noses almost brushing. Silver clashed with green, and Marcus found himself frozen, unable to look away from the glowing intensity in Morgan's gaze. His body felt heavy and light at the same time, as though the ocean itself was holding him in place.

"Oh," Morgan said suddenly, breaking the spell.

Marcus blinked, his mind swimming with confusion. "What? What is it?"

Morgan smiled—a knowing, unsettling expression. "Nothing," he said lightly before turning to Caspian. "You have nothing to worry about. The tattoos are a side effect of the bond you created. As for the tail..." His gaze flicked back to Marcus, something unreadable in his eyes. "Leave that to me."

Marcus opened his mouth to speak but found no words. Despite his apprehension, a spark of excitement flared in his chest. The thought of joining Caspian beneath the waves, of exploring the hidden beauty of a world humans could only dream of, filled him with a strange, inexplicable joy.