Chapter 27 - ISAAC

For Isaac, the world had always existed in shades of grey. The muted rust of factory wheels grinding endlessly in the cold, damp warehouses. His father's rough hands, fists like iron, barreling into his ribs with the smell of gin heavy on his breath. The dirty, murk-laden waters of the Thames, sloshing with refuse as he trudged to work beneath smog-filled skies. London had long since lost its magic. The city was no longer about the mysteries of cobblestone alleys or the wonder of gaslit streets. It was all steel and steam now—steam-powered airships crawling like industrious insects across the horizon, their engines screaming against the ever-clouded skies. Massive clockwork carriages roamed the streets, their brass gears clicking incessantly. The skyline bristled with spires of iron, crowned with spinning turbines. Every marvel of progress only served to further choke the city, draining it of color and breath.

But here, standing on the sunlit pier of the English Harbour in Antigua, the world was no longer grey. It was vivid. Alien. Alive.

Isaac had never seen anything like the tall water nymph who approached them. She was otherworldly, her skin pale and tinged with icy blue, as if carved from frozen water. Her hair cascaded in delicate strands of liquid silver, constantly shifting and curling like tendrils of smoke beneath the waves. Frosted lips parted to speak, and with each word, hot bubbles rose into the air, bursting with a soft hiss, as though her voice strained against the natural laws of the surface world.

Beside her sat their vessel—a rusted submarine that seemed to have grown from the ocean floor itself. Its hull was mottled with barnacles and patches of coral, and the metal shimmered with a greenish-blue patina, as if it were alive and breathing. Strange glyphs were etched into the metal, glowing faintly as though the submarine itself were imbued with some ancient magic. The periscope twisted lazily in the breeze, like an eye scanning the horizon, and faint whirring noises emanated from deep within its belly. It seemed both ancient and advanced—a hybrid of forgotten engineering and natural wonder.

When the nymph spoke, her words sounded like a song sung through the depths of the sea, each note carrying a mournful resonance.

"She says it will take us about two days to reach Ondale Reef in the submarine, she has also imbued us with a water spell so we can breath underwater." Bayu translated smoothly..

Isaac whipped around to face him, incredulous. "Don't tell me you can speak water nymph too! What can't you do, Bayu?"

Kai, ever serious, stepped forward, his amber eyes narrowing. "Bayu, ask her if the submarine is safe. Is there anything we need to watch out for?"

Bayu nodded, his words flowing in strange syllables that seemed to match the rhythm of the nymph's language. A trail of delicate bubbles drifted from her lips as she responded.

Bayu turned back to them. "We should be fine."

Isaac raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms skeptically. "Right, I'll take your word for it."

Isaac had expected the inside of the submarine to match its exterior—cramped, cold, and metallic. Instead, stepping through the rounded hatch was like entering a dream.

The air inside was warm and fragrant, carrying a faint scent of salt and lavender. Soft, glowing orbs floated along the walls, casting the space in a golden light that rippled like sunlight through water. The floors were made of smooth, polished wood that seemed impossibly untouched by moisture. Intricate carvings of sea creatures—whales, octopi, and schools of fish—decorated the walls, their eyes gleaming with tiny embedded jewels.

The main chamber was vast, with plush seating upholstered in deep blue velvet that shimmered like fish scales. A central table appeared to be carved from a single block of translucent crystal, its surface swirling with currents of light. Around the edges of the room, small aquariums bubbled softly, displaying exotic marine life—glowing jellyfish, darting seahorses, and tiny, iridescent fish.

Above them, the ceiling was a marvel. It was enchanted to appear transparent, showing the ocean above. Schools of fish swam lazily overhead, their movements hypnotic against the backdrop of shifting sunlight filtering through the waves.

Isaac couldn't help but gape. "This is... incredible," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the faint hum of the submarine's engines.

With a jolt, the submarine lurched forward, plunging deeper into the water. The movement wasn't smooth—it felt like being cradled by some colossal beast that had decided to take a brisk swim. Isaac's stomach flipped, but he managed to keep his footing. The water nymph had disappeared into a small control room at the front of the vessel, her eerie silhouette visible through the frosted glass.

Isaac wandered over to a nearby cupboard, curiosity driving him to explore. Inside, he found an assortment of strange snacks. One packet contained translucent blue flakes that glistened like shards of crystal. Another had what looked like tiny sea cucumbers dusted in glittering sugar. He picked a bag of round, jelly-like orbs, their centers glowing faintly with a golden light. They wobbled as he tore open the packet, and when he popped one into his mouth, it melted immediately on his tongue. The taste was unlike anything he'd ever had—sweet and briny, with a hint of something floral, like hibiscus.

Before he could grab another, Kai spoke sharply. "Bayu, I need to talk to you." He tugged Bayu by the arm, steering him toward one of the smaller rooms that lined the main chamber of the submarine.

Isaac balked, gesturing at them. "Wait—you're just going to leave me here?"

Kai shot him a glance over his shoulder. "We'll just be in the other room. Don't worry."

The door shut behind them with a decisive click.

Isaac sighed, slumping into a soft, velvet chair. He tossed another glowing orb into his mouth, chewing halfheartedly, then held the bag out toward Tomoya, who was standing stiffly nearby, watching him with those dark, unreadable eyes. "You want some?" he asked, trying for casual.

Tomoya blinked, hesitating for a moment before stepping forward. He crouched down, bringing his face level with Isaac's. The closeness made Isaac tense, but he forced himself to stay still, staring back at Tomoya. He allowed himself, for the first time since it happened, to really look at him.

There was a fragile beauty to Tomoya's sharp features, the way his tousled black hair fell over his forehead, the almost feline tilt of his almond-shaped eyes. His hands, so slender and deft, hovered in the air as if they didn't quite know what to do with themselves. This man had bitten him. He had sunk his teeth into Isaac's neck, drawn his blood, and left a mark that still hadn't healed.

"Are you going to say something mean to me again?" Isaac asked, breaking the silence. His voice came out more petulant than he'd intended. He tossed the snack bag onto a nearby table, leaning back in his seat.

Tomoya sighed, his shoulders slumping as he straightened up and sank into the chair next to Isaac. "I think I'm owed an apology, don't you? Why did you bite me?" Isaac demanded, sitting up straighter. He was determined not to let Tomoya intimidate him anymore. "Let me guess—you wanted me to be your mate? Is that why you were so mean to me?"

Tomoya froze, his face darkening. "No—"

Isaac cut him off, barreling forward. "That's kind of sweet... sort of. Because you're not sweet—you're actually pretty terrible. But I get it. Except you're not my type. I don't think you realise, but I have a preference for mermaids. I'd rather my kids be strong swimmers. Though, an elf-vampire-werewolf hybrid would be something remarkable." He grinned slyly. "And how could you possibly bite me when you don't even know what my favorite food is? Or what I like to do for fun? It's preposterous, honestly."

Tomoya closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to summon patience from some deep, buried well.

Isaac batted his lashes. "What? Am I not your type?"

"I am not your mate," Tomoya said smoothly, his tone cutting through Isaac's nonsense.

Isaac cocked his head, feeling the weight of his ginger locks brushing against his neck. His hair was getting long—too long, really. If his world weren't on the brink of collapse, maybe he'd find time for a trim. "Does this mean we have to get married? I hope not—"

"ISAAC."

The force of Tomoya's voice startled him into silence. Before he could react, Tomoya's hands shot out, grabbing Isaac's wrists and pinning him against the plush chair. The sudden proximity—the weight of Tomoya's frame hovering over him—made Isaac's skin flush with heat.

His breath hitched. For a moment, his mind flashed back to the bite—how terrible it had been, yes, but also how it had made his entire body hum with a strange, undeniable energy. He swallowed hard, staring up at Tomoya with wide, green eyes.

"I am not your mate," Tomoya said again, his voice low and deliberate.

Isaac, ever irreverent, trailed a finger to the puncture marks on his neck. "Then why haven't I healed yet?" His voice softened. "Also, remember that time on the airship? After you called me pathetic and Kai had to talk to you? There was a lot of banging and yelling. Bayu told me not to go in, but... I kind of wish I did—"

Tomoya clapped a hand over Isaac's mouth, silencing him. Isaac glared but didn't struggle, his eyes glittering with curiosity. Slowly, Tomoya removed his hand, his fingers brushing lightly against Isaac's jaw.

"I'm going to heal the bite," Tomoya said, his tone softer now. "Don't move."

Before Isaac could reply, Tomoya leaned in, his lips brushing against the wounds on Isaac's neck. His tongue swept over the punctures, slow and deliberate, and Isaac couldn't help the shiver that ran through him. Tomoya's lips were cool, but the sensation sent a hot flush spreading across Isaac's skin.

He sucked at the marks, as though drawing out the venom that lingered there. Isaac felt an odd pull deep inside him, something raw and electric that made his breath hitch. It wasn't just physical—it was something more, something he couldn't name.

When Tomoya finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his dark eyes burning with an unreadable emotion. "That should ensure you'll never be my mate," he murmured.

Isaac swallowed, his fingers brushing absently over the now-healed skin. "Good. I was worried you were getting ideas."

Tomoya leaned back in the chair, his fingers splayed loosely over his knees. Despite the casual pose, there was nothing relaxed about the way he stared at Isaac. His gaze was intense, sharp, as if he were trying to read something written on Isaac's skin. It made Isaac fidget. The silence between them grew heavier, wrapping around the room like a too-tight scarf. He broke it with a nervous laugh, his voice high and awkward.

"You know..." Isaac began, his eyes darting to the closed door behind which Kai and Bayu had disappeared. How long were they going to be gone? He shifted, realizing how close he and Tomoya were on the plush chair. The soft fabric of the seat pressed against his thigh, but the heat radiating from Tomoya's body was far more distracting. "You still haven't said why you bit me... or why you ran into that storm right after. That was—well, stupid."

Tomoya rolled his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for one of the glowing snacks Isaac had left on the nearby table. The jelly-like orb caught the light, glowing faintly between Tomoya's long, elegant fingers. He turned it over slowly, inspecting it as though it held the secrets of the universe.

"Do you ever stop talking?" he muttered before popping the snack into his mouth.

Isaac grinned, more out of defiance than anything else. He was used to Tomoya's sharp tongue by now, though it still grated on his nerves. "Nope," he replied brightly. "It's one of my many charms. Right up there with my dashing good looks and unparalleled taste in snacks. Stop dodging the question. Tell me! You're my mate now, so you have to tell me things."

Tomoya gave a dismissive snort, lazily picking up another glowing jelly. "Not your mate," he said flatly before biting into it.

Isaac nudged his elbow, undeterred. "Sure you are. You're my mate. Bayu's my prince. And Kai... well, Kai is everything."

At that, Tomoya finally looked at him, his brow furrowing slightly. "Everything?" he echoed, his voice quieter this time.

Isaac froze, caught off guard by the question. The hum and drum of the water rushing past the submarine filled the silence between them. His fingers found the lapel of his uniform, tugging at the fabric as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He didn't know Tomoya, not really—not beyond the biting and the brooding and the anger that seemed to coil around him like a second skin. And Isaac certainly wasn't in the mood to unpick the tangle of emotions that came with thinking about Kai. Everything Kai represented, everything he meant to him—it was too much. It always felt like too much.

He hadn't told anyone how he felt about Kai, and he wasn't planning to. How could he explain it? That he had pledged himself to Kai without ever saying the words aloud? That he would follow him to the ends of the earth if asked? No, that was too intense, too uncomfortable, too...

Instead, he said, "Well, Kai saved you, didn't he? Nobody else would have gone into the eye of the storm like that. But he did."

Tomoya's gaze dropped to the floor. His lips parted, as if to say something, but he hesitated. He chewed on his lower lip instead, hard enough that blood bubbled at the corners. Isaac watched the droplets pool there, red against pale skin, and felt a strange, irrational urge to wipe them away. But he didn't dare—not after what had happened last time.

"I—" Tomoya started, his voice low and uncertain, but Isaac cut him off.

"Did you even say thank you?" Isaac asked, leaning forward. "Thank you, Kai, for saving my life. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you. Because that's what he does, you know. He doesn't have to know you to care about you. He can cure your lifelong ailments, save your life countless times... If you exist in Kai's world, even in his periphery, you matter to him. You're special. You're important. I've never met a man like him. And if it wasn't for him, I'd probably slap you in the face, Tomoya."

Tomoya flinched at that, his hands tightening on the velvet armrests.

"I'm serious," Isaac continued, his voice trembling with the weight of his words. "Because although I'm joking, although I act harmless, and I'm so pathetic and useless like you always love to remind me—I know what you did. You violated me. You were overcome with anger, and you bit me. And it was Kai who begged me, pleaded with me to understand. It was Kai who ran into the belly of the storm to bring you back. No one else would've done that for you. I sure wouldn't have."

Isaac's chest heaved as he finished, the words spilling out in a rush he hadn't planned. He hadn't realized how much anger he was still holding onto until now, but there it was, simmering between them.

Tomoya's knuckles were white where they gripped the chair. He swallowed deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to find his voice. "I never meant to do that to you," he said finally, his words quiet and halting. "It was never my intention. I don't want—"

His gaze lifted to the ceiling, as if searching for answers in the glowing aquatic features that swam above. "I don't want to be close to any of you. It's not a good idea. I know it's not a good idea. But Kai—he won't quit. He's always pushing, always asking, always being so damn kind. And then you—"

Tomoya's voice broke, and he shook his head. "You were there that day, hassling me, screaming, 'Where were you?' And where am I, Isaac? I don't know. But I can feel him circling closer and closer to me. And Rupert told me I'd be safe, but I don't believe him."

Tomoya's voice was barely a whisper now, his shoulders hunched as though the weight of his confession might crush him. Isaac stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to comfort him somehow, but he wasn't sure how to bridge the distance between them.

Instead, he whispered, "Who's coming for you? What does Rupert have to do with it?"

Tomoya clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into the plush velvet of the chair as though it were the only thing grounding him. For a moment, Isaac thought he might shut down entirely, retreat into that brooding silence he was so good at. But then Tomoya exhaled shakily, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight.

"You wouldn't understand," Tomoya murmured, his gaze dropping to his lap.

"Try me," Isaac pressed, leaning forward. He wasn't sure why he cared so much, but there was something about the way Tomoya looked just then—like he was unraveling, barely holding himself together—that made Isaac's chest ache in a way he didn't quite understand.

Tomoya hesitated, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. Finally, he shook his head, muttering under his breath.

"It doesn't matter," he said, his voice low. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Isaac frowned, frustration bubbling in his chest. "You can't just drop something like that and then clam up. That's not how conversations work."

Tomoya shot him a glare, the familiar spark of annoyance flaring in his dark eyes. "I don't owe you an explanation, Isaac."

"No, but you do owe me something," Isaac retorted, his tone sharper now. "You bit me, Tomoya. You can't just pretend that didn't happen. You hurt me, and then you ran off into a blasted storm like some tragic hero trying to get himself killed. And now you're sitting here, talking about someone coming for you and how you don't want to be close to any of us. What am I supposed to do with that, huh?"

Tomoya looked away, his jaw tightening. "I never meant to hurt you," he said softly.

Isaac scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Well, congratulations, because you did. And you're right—I don't understand you. I don't understand why you're so determined to push everyone away, why you act like you're some kind of lone wolf when it's obvious you care about us, even if you won't admit it."

Tomoya flinched, his hands gripping the chair even tighter.

"You care about Kai," Isaac continued, his voice softer now. "I saw it in the storm, when he pulled you out of there. You looked at him like he was the sun after a lifetime of darkness. And you care about Bayu, even if you're too stubborn to show it. And me—" He paused, his throat tightening. "I don't know what I am to you, but I'm not just some chew toy you can toss aside."

Tomoya's head snapped up at that, his eyes wide with something that looked almost like guilt.

"You're not—" he began, but Isaac cut him off.

"Then prove it," Isaac said, his voice trembling slightly. "Stop running. Stop shutting us out. Stop acting like you're the only one in the world who's ever been hurt. But we're here. We're trying. So why can't you?"

Tomoya stared at him, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of the submarine and the faint rush of water outside.

"I'm scared," Tomoya admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Isaac's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected that—not from Tomoya, who always seemed so strong, so unshakable.

"Scared of what?" Isaac asked gently.

Tomoya hesitated, his gaze dropping to his lap. "Of...so many things..."

Isaac's chest tightened, and for a moment, he didn't know what to say. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on Tomoya's knee.

"You don't have to do this alone," he said softly. "Whatever it is you're afraid of, whatever's coming for you—we'll face it together. That's what mates are for, right?"

Tomoya looked up at him, his dark eyes shimmering with something Isaac couldn't quite place. Gratitude, maybe. Or hope.

"I'm not your mate," Tomoya said, but there was no heat in his voice this time.

Isaac grinned, squeezing his knee. "Sure you're not, mate. Sure you're not."

And in that moment, Isaac felt something shift between them, like the fragile beginnings of a truce. Whatever it was, he decided, he could live with it.