Atlantis's brows furrowed as he caught faint voices coming from Marcus's room. Something in the tone set his nerves on edge. He leaned closer to the wall, pressing his ear against the cold surface.

"Do you hear that, Cassio?" he whispered to the tiny fae, who nodded silently, his glow dimming to avoid attention. They both strained to listen, and Atlantis's stomach sank as the voice became clear. It was a voice he was all too familiar with.

"...To make it a little clearer: I can have children, and you can't. Do you think the council will allow that?"

Atlantis's jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. He could hear the faint sound of movement, indicating that Lilith was about to leave. Years of training took over, and with a fluid motion, Atlantis slithered up the wall, pressing himself against the dark ceiling to stay hidden.

Lilith emerged moments later, her curvaceous form catching the attention of a passing servant, who quickly averted his gaze. Atlantis noted the smug expression in her violet eyes, a look of satisfaction that made his fins bristle with irritation.

He glanced at Cassio, who dimmed his light even further as Lilith passed by. Once she was gone, Atlantis turned to the fae. "Can you feel Marcus?"

Cassio closed his eyes, focusing intently, his small form glowing faintly with the effort. After a moment, he opened them, his voice soft but certain. "He's sad."

Atlantis's frown deepened. "I need to speak with Morgan about this."

Cassio nodded but hesitated. "Aye. But... what about you? Are you okay around Morgan?"

A small smile broke through Atlantis's stern expression, and he reached out to gently tickle the fae's tiny tummy with his finger. "Of course. I have faith that Morgan will regain his memories—eventually."

___________________________

Sleep eluded Marcus. Lilith's cruel words played on a loop in his mind, each repetition twisting the knife deeper. The truth of her statement burned: he couldn't give Caspian heirs.

When he finally rose the next morning, his reflection in the vanity mirror startled him. Dark circles shadowed his silver eyes, the hollow look emphasized by the stark contrast of his white hair. He barely recognized himself.

The ache in his chest only grew worse when he realized Caspian hadn't come to him the night before. He felt foolish, overly attached to someone as strong and regal as the merman king. Perhaps he was asking too much—perhaps he wasn't enough.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. "Marcus?" came Morgan's voice, gentle but firm.

Marcus turned his head as Morgan slipped into the room, the purple hue of the lighting casting an otherworldly glow over his sharp features.

"Hey, Morgan," Marcus said with a half-hearted smile. "Come in."

Morgan closed the door behind him, his green eyes studying Marcus carefully. "Are you okay? You look pale," he said, crossing the room and placing a comforting hand on Marcus's shoulder.

The friendly air that Morgan exuded, combined with the soothing motion of his touch, reminded Marcus of the brother he never had. It broke something loose in him.

"I don't think I'm good enough for Caspian," Marcus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nonsense," Morgan said sternly, his cat-like eyes narrowing. "As a witch, I know you two are meant for each other. I've seen it."

Marcus scoffed, bitterness creeping into his tone. "Then how am I supposed to give Caspian heirs? It's obvious I can't."

For a moment, Morgan said nothing. Then, a strange twinkle lit his eyes, and his lips curved into a sly smile. "Come on," he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get you dolled up. Caspian is waiting for you."

Marcus blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. His heart leapt inside his chest. "Really?"

Morgan nodded. "He wanted to visit you last night, but the council kept him tied up. Royal duties are a pain in the butt."

Shame washed over Marcus at the realization of his own insensitivity. Of course, Caspian had a kingdom to run. And here he was, whining like a child.

Morgan must have noticed, because he laughed softly. "Don't worry about it. You'll brighten his day just by showing up. But," he said, casting an appraising glance at Marcus, "I can't let you visit him looking like this."

Marcus felt a blush creep up his neck. "What's wrong with how I look?" he asked defensively.

Morgan grinned. "Nothing's wrong. But if you're going to see your mate, you might as well look your absolute best. Let me help you."

Before Marcus could protest, Morgan grabbed a nearby comb and gestured for him to sit. "Trust me," the witch said with a wink. "Caspian won't be able to take his eyes off you."

______________________

Caspian blinked to clear his blurring vision, his head pounding as he poured over the documents spread across his desk. He had spent the entire night convincing the council to open trade with the Emerald and Diamond Kingdoms. Many council members had been skeptical, surprised that Caspian sought diplomacy instead of the war he had once promised.

The negotiations had been grueling, but in the end, Caspian had managed to sway them. Now, as dawn approached, he meticulously drafted the trade agreements himself, unwilling to trust anyone else with such a delicate and crucial task. The alliance he had forged with Atlantis and Morgan was something he valued deeply—built on mutual trust and respect, it felt solid, genuine. He would not risk undermining it with careless errors.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up as Lilith's head peeked through the crack. "Can I come in?" she asked, her voice light and familiar.

Caspian smiled faintly at the sight of his childhood friend. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

Lilith slipped inside, her curvaceous form accentuated by the soft glow of her gold tattoos. "Perhaps you could start by keeping me company," she said with a playful smile.

Caspian chuckled and gestured toward the chair beside his desk. "If that's what you wish."

Lilith didn't sit. Instead, she leaned against his desk, her posture casual yet deliberate. "You should rest," she said, her violet eyes scanning the cluttered workspace. "You've been cooped up in here all night."

Caspian shook his head, stacking the scattered documents into neat piles. "Rest can wait," he said firmly. "I have a responsibility to fix the mistakes I made for this kingdom. It's the least I can do."

Lilith stepped closer, reaching out to stroke his cheek. The gesture was familiar, a remnant of their childhood when she had worked among the palace servants. Her touch was gentle, her palm grazing the light scruff on his face. "You overwork yourself, Caspian. Perhaps a stroll through the garden would ease your mind—after some proper rest, of course."

He gave a soft laugh and stood, his powerful form moving toward the small bar in the corner of the room. Pouring himself a glass of water, he said, "The kingdom's needs come first, Lilith. I'll rest once I've ensured everything is in order."

Before she could respond, another knock echoed through the room.

"Enter," Caspian called, setting his glass down and turning toward the door.

When he saw the figure standing in the doorway, his heart stuttered in his chest.

There stood Marcus, his silver eyes framed by long dark lashes, his pale skin a striking contrast to the intricate black tattoos that adorned his slender form. A crown of coral, bathed in silver, rested delicately on his white hair, and matching silver bracelets adorned his narrow wrists. A flowing white cloth was draped over his shoulders and chest, leaving his slender neck exposed. The soft lighting of the room seemed to dance over him, making him appear ethereal.

Caspian swallowed hard, his voice catching in his throat. "M-Marcus," he breathed, his body moving instinctively closer to the alluring figure.

A soft blush dusted Marcus's cheeks as he stepped into the room. "Hey, Caspian."

"You look..." Caspian paused, his dark eyes raking over Marcus from head to toe, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Marcus looked both innocent and utterly irresistible, the tattoos only adding to the allure that had Caspian's pulse racing.

A shy smile brightened Marcus's features. "Thank you," he said softly. "I hoped to impress you with my newfound knowledge of fashion."

Caspian grinned, closing the distance between them in a single fluid motion. His hands cupped Marcus's face, and he pressed a tender kiss to his soft lips. "You look absolutely lovely," he murmured against his mate's lips, his voice low and sincere.

A sharp scoff from behind them broke the moment.

Caspian turned to see Lilith still standing by his desk, her expression a mixture of sweetness and something darker. She offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll leave you two alone," she said, her tone smooth but clipped.

Caspian nodded, watching as she swept from the room, her tail flicking sharply behind her. He couldn't help but notice the faint tension in her movements, but his focus quickly returned to Marcus.

Taking his mate's hand, he led him toward the couch in the corner. "You've brightened my morning," Caspian said, his gaze softening. "Stay with me for a while."

Marcus smiled, the warmth in Caspian's voice easing the lingering doubts in his mind. For now, he allowed himself to bask in the closeness they shared, pushing away the shadows that threatened to creep in.

_____________________

That's right, bish. I have his attention now, Marcus thought smugly, a triumphant grin tugging at his lips as he met Lilith's narrowed gaze.

Her purple eyes darkened, a silent threat simmering beneath their luminous surface. It was clear she wasn't going to let this go. She would retaliate—of that, Marcus had no doubt. Her warning from before was still fresh in his mind, but he wasn't about to let her control him or Caspian.

That's fine, Marcus thought, the smug grin unwavering. As long as she doesn't sink her claws into Caspian.

He turned his focus back to the merman before him, his silver eyes softening as they locked with Caspian's. The king's black orbs were filled with warmth and something deeper, something that made Marcus's heart flutter.

Their lips met, the kiss deep and unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. Marcus's hands moved to cup Caspian's rough cheeks, his fingers brushing over the scruff that lined his jaw. The sensation sent a shiver through him, grounding him in the moment.

Caspian's strong hands slid around Marcus's waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed flush against one another. The heat between them was electric, a quiet intensity that spoke of unspoken promises and mutual devotion.

As their kiss deepened, Marcus felt something shift within him, a quiet but resolute determination taking root. He swore to himself then and there: I will always protect him.

It wasn't just a thought—it was a promise. One that felt as though it were etched into his very soul, carving itself deeply into the fabric of who he was. Caspian wasn't just his mate; he was the king of his heart, and Marcus would do whatever it took to shield him from harm.

When they finally pulled apart, Caspian's gaze lingered on Marcus, his lips curling into a small, contented smile. "You're incredible," he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

Marcus smiled back, his confidence bolstered by the love he saw reflected in Caspian's eyes. Whatever Lilith planned, whatever trials lay ahead, he knew one thing with certainty—he wouldn't let anything come between them.