Catching a sideways glimpse of himself in the mirror, Ronan collapsed onto his bed into fits of laughter. Once again, Michael had helped diffuse a situation that threatened to get out of hand. Once again he showed Ronan that there were more important things in life to worry about than David and his next actions. Things like grabbing Michael’s hand and throwing him on their bed so they could laugh and cuddle and kiss. “Sorry, love,” Ronan murmured. “I can get carried away sometimes.”
Ronan’s excitement didn’t bother Michael at all; he welcomed his passion almost as much as he welcomed every opportunity to get lost in his kisses and his embrace. However, at the moment they had other things to do. Squirming out from under Ronan’s body, Michael jumped to the side of the bed. “No can do, Ro,” Michael announced. “Per the headmaster’s decree I have more important things to do, like convince you to move my car.”
Extending his hand to Michael, Ronan had other plans. “I have a better idea,” he said. “Let’s feed.”
They found the body less than a minute later on the outskirts of Eden, at the bottom of a hill that was steep, but not particularly tall. Maybe thirty years old, the man was thin and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, his knapsack still on his back and his hand still clutching a map of the area. Although Ronan and Michael both had the ability to detect when death was imminent, they didn’t need those skills to know the man was seconds from dying; they simply had to look at the way his body was distorted. His legs were bent at peculiar angles, and his neck was twisted severely to one side. It was an unusual state for a body to be in, but one that was enormously appetizing.
Michael watched as Ronan’s face elongated, his eyes became more like diamonds instead of circles, his sharp, white fangs appeared and rested on his plump, red lips. Michael thought Ronan had never looked more beautiful.
The man barely moved as Ronan’s fangs plunged into the largest vein that protruded from his neck and Ronan sucked out the blood that would soon be wasted if it remained in its original host. The blood was refreshingly sweet; the man had obviously been healthy, and his irreversible condition the result of an unfortunate accident. Unfortunate for him, but bounty for Ronan and Michael.
As he lifted his head, drops of blood spilled down the corners of Ronan’s mouth. Unable to control his hunger at the sight, Michael leaned forward and licked the blood from Ronan’s chin until there wasn’t a trace left. Unfulfilled and growing delirious, Michael punctured two more holes into the man’s neck with his fangs and held his body close to him as he felt the man’s blood gush over his tongue. A rush of energy entered his body and spread out through his limbs, caressing his organs, making him feel superhuman. Consumed with desire and vitality, Michael spontaneously kissed Ronan deeply on his bloodied lips, their fangs pressing against each other roughly. He was wild-eyed, and Michael’s voice was a harsh whisper when he spoke. “Let’s offer ourselves to The Well.”
Naked, they dove into the ocean and plunged deep into the sea’s belly until they reached an area that could never be seen by a mortal’s eyes—the underwater cave that housed The Well of Atlantis. When they entered the enclave, a low hum emitted from the rock walls as if to welcome the boys. The sound was familiar and yet thicker than usual, more resonant, and it seemed to pierce through their bodies even as it floated gently over their heads. The Well was greeting them as it always did, but this time its greeting was more intense.
Kneeling before the circular stone, Michael and Ronan each cut their palms with their fangs and lifted their hands above the center of The Well so their blood could spill into the silvery water below.
Even though they had witnessed this miracle many times before, they still watched in awe as their blood swirled with the holy water to create something new, something that only their eyes could behold: the mixture of their blood, their souls, and the life force of The Well.
Their voices mimicked their clasped hands, and they became one as they recited the ancient prayer:
Immediately the transformation began. Their hands and feet lost their human appearance and became webbed; their bodies and their limbs grew even longer. Together, they dipped their webbed hands into The Well to scoop up its silver water, and then they drank the now-familiar brew. As the cold liquid filled their bodies, a translucent light—like the one that shone from the center of The Well —emanated from their skin. They were being illuminated by their creator, in Its beloved image.
The cave was suddenly aglow with the combination of light that shone from Michael, Ronan, and The Well, and it looked as if the sun had fallen from the sky, submerged itself under the ocean, and decided to light up the sea. The rock walls of the cave twinkled as if they were covered with rows and rows of sparkling lights. The ground was hardly visible, and the boys looked like they were standing on a floor of white electricity. It was obvious: The Well was truly grateful for their offering, and in turn the boys felt truly blessed.
Ronan was already sitting on the shore of Inishtrahull Island when Michael emerged from the ocean. He watched his boyfriend walk toward him and did his best to control his anxiety. Michael sat down and allowed his bare, wet shoulder to graze against Ronan’s, but kept his eyes transfixed on the undulating ocean. He knew Ronan was going to tell him his final secret. He knew he would listen to every word that Ronan had to say, but he didn’t think he could watch him as he spoke. He just didn’t think he was that brave.
Ronan, however, knew better. He touched Michael’s hand softly and turned him so they could face each other. He was so beautiful. Aflame with The Well’s power, Michael radiated strength, both physical and emotional. Yes, Michael was nervous. He was unsure of what Ronan was going to tell him, unsure that he even wanted to hear it. But just by looking at him, his face stoic, his eyes compassionate, Ronan was confident that Michael would hear his words with both an open mind and heart and that he would ultimately accept his words with grace and thankfulness. Once he heard Ronan’s story, he would understand why it was so important that it had to be shared.
“I need to tell you about Morgandy,” Ronan said. “Morgandy van der Poole.”
Michael had never heard of the name before and yet he knew it was the name of his enemy. The reaction was primal, instinctive. Somehow, he also knew that it was the name of Ronan’s first soul mate.
“He was the eldest son of a major Atlantian family. He was preordained to become a Guardian of The Well,” Ronan explained. “And I loved him.”
As unhappy as Michael was to hear that last bit of information, that news didn’t come as a shock either. Michael had known there was someone who had come before him and Nakano, someone who Ronan had been in love with. Giving that love a name didn’t change the past. It did, however, make it more permanent and make it more difficult for Michael to ignore the fact that he wasn’t Ronan’s only love.
“I can’t lie and tell you that I didn’t think I would spend all eternity with Morgandy when we asked The Well to join our souls,” Ronan admitted. “At the time it was what I wanted.” His next words caught in his throat, and Ronan paused. It had been a long time since he had said Morgandy’s name out loud. He thought it would be easy; he didn’t think it would conjure such a wellspring of emotion and make him feel as unstable as a wave caught in the tide, but he was wrong. He looked away from Michael and watched the waves roll closer, then recede. Michael knew Ronan had no interest in watching the ocean’s dance; he was pausing to find the strength to continue. Michael would wait as long as it took.
“Until I learned the truth,” Ronan resumed, his voice stronger now. “Until I learned that Morgandy never loved me, he never wanted to be my soul mate. He merely wanted to betray our people and the sanctity of The Well.”
Breathing deeply, Michael felt the sun and salt water in the air. It almost made him feel as good as it did to hear the honesty in Ronan’s voice. Ronan meant it when he said he didn’t want there to be any more secrets between them. He was keeping his promise not because he felt a need to confess, or because he was scared that Michael would one day stumble upon his secret, but because he loved and trusted Michael and wanted to share every detail of his life with him, the good and the bad. “It wasn’t until after we pledged our souls that I discovered he was secretly working for David.”
Michael had not expected that twist to Ronan’s story, and the surprise revelation forced him to break his silence. “Morgandy was one of
“Physically he was still a water vampire,” Ronan explained. “But spiritually he was part of David’s race.”
A gentle breeze blew past, cooling the fire that was beginning to consume them. Ronan accepted this intrusion as a reason to rest, calm his mind; Michael accepted it as a reminder that Ronan was his sole purpose
