“So, you just live out here all alone?” Myles asked.

They sat together at the end of the dock, their legs dangling over the edge and their feet caressing the water below.

“Pretty much,” Ronan replied. “I mean, I don’t seclude myself out here. I go into town. Have some friends I meet up with.”

“Do they know about you?”

Ronan shook his head. “No. I figured out pretty quickly to keep my mouth shut. Don’t need anyone thinking I’m crazy.”

Myles frowned. “Are you worried you’ll get caught?”

Ronan shrugged. “Not really,” he started. “That’s why I live out here. It’s pretty quiet.”

“And no one recognizes you? At all?”

His lips twisted to the side. “I guess not. I have a feeling I’m not actually from around here. You’d think I’d bump into old friends or family if I was, right?” He turned to Myles, but he was looking out over the ocean, contemplative. 

“What about you?” Ronan asked. “Does anyone know you’re a werewolf?”

Myles bit the corner of his lower lip. “A few clans do.”

Ronan’s brows raised. “There are werewolf clans around here?”

“A couple, yeah, and back where I came from.”

“Did one of them turn you?”

“I don’t know who did,” Myles said. “That night is… hazy.”

Ronan frowned. “And your family doesn’t know? Your friends? Co-workers?”

Myles hesitated. “No,” he said simply. “Actually, ever since I was turned, members from both clans tried to… recruit me, I guess. Said we needed to stick together. They could teach me how to control it. They said I would be dangerous to people around me.”

“I guess you didn’t join either of them?”

Myles looked down at his feet. He swung his legs and splashed at the water lightly. “I didn’t,” he started. “I should have.” He let out a sigh. “I dunno. I was scared, I guess. I thought I could handle it. But I turned again, shortly after I was bitten… I don’t really remember what happened. Just that there was a lot of blood… I had… hurt someone.” He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the memory. “So, I ran. I ran, and I didn’t look back. I left everything behind. Everyone I knew. I disappeared. Ended up here and, well, settled in as best as I could. Joined up with a clan here, briefly.” 

“And then you turned again and ended up passed out on my beach.”

“Something like that,” Myles said. “I was trying to get as far away as I could. I still can’t control it.”

“So, you’re not with the clan?”

“Not really.”

“Are you hiding from them?”

“Kinda.” Myles hesitated. “It turns out, a lot of the clans work with each other from town to town. It’s actually pretty political. The clan around here is… well, they basically said ‘fuck the community’ and do their own thing. They’re more concerned on recruitment at any cost. They wanted to use my connections on the force, and I refused. So, we’re not exactly on good terms.”

“Damn,” Ronan said. “I wonder if there’s an entire mermaid community I’m missing out on.”

Myles glanced at him. “You haven’t seen any others?”

“No. Not yet, anyway. But I don’t really venture far, either.” He shrugged. “I guess there must be at least one around. The one who turned me, maybe. I don’t really know how it works. I never really cared.”

“I bet we could figure it out,” Myles said. “Figure out how to get your memories back.”

Ronan’s lips twisted to the side. “Maybe,” he started.

“You don’t want to?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. It’s… complicated. It’s hard to care about my life before when I literally have no attachment to whatever that life was. And this life isn’t so bad. It’s been years. I like who I am.”

“Well, sure,” Myles muttered. “You’re an elegant, harmless creature and not a monster.”

Ronan frowned. “I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Myles sighed. He leaned back against his arms, his palms down on the dock. “Well, I am. And apparently there are monsters everywhere with zero moral compass.”

“Can’t you do anything? Arrest them or something?”

Myles laughed. “Arresting a werewolf would be asking to have your insides ripped out,” he said. He shook his head. “I’d love to be able to do something about it. But it’s not that simple.”

Ronan pressed his lips together. “So, what are you going to do?”

Myles sighed. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “If I can’t control it… I’m afraid of what will happen. I’ll just… live a life on the run, I guess. I really don’t have any other options.”

Ronan looked out over the ocean. The setting sun turned the horizon into gradient hues of oranges and pinks. From behind them, he could hear the gentle, cascading sounds of the waves as they broke on the shore and receded. “You could stay here. If you want.” He felt Myles’s gaze on him, but did not turn to him.

“I don’t think so,” Myles said slowly. “You’ve done more than enough for me as it is. Besides, I told you I can’t control it. If I turn, you would be in danger. And I can’t… do that again.”

“It seems your best option if you ask me,” Ronan said. “You said so yourself; the clans can’t be trusted. Sure, they might be able to help you, but at what cost? And if you just live the rest of your life on the run, well, that won’t solve anything, either. You might be even more of a danger to the public, and to yourself. But if you stay with me, I’m an impartial party: I won’t try to use you, I can probably help you control it, and I’m a pretty good swimmer. I don’t think your werewolf self will be so willing to chase after me out in the ocean. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s idiotic,” Myles said. “I’m quicker and stronger than you realize.”

Ronan smiled and put his hands up defensively. “Okay, I get it, you don’t have to prove your macho-ness to me.”

Myles rolled his eyes. “It’s not about that.”

“I think you should stay,” Ronan pressed. “We’re secluded out here. The clans won’t know you’re here. They could track you if you try to run. This is the best option for you. And we’re friends now, so I don’t mind having you as a roommate. I have a spare bedroom.”

“You’ve known me less than twenty-four hours,” Myles reminded him.

“What are the chances that two people like us meet?” Ronan said.

“You really believe in fate, don’t you?”

Ronan shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t really believe in much. Life goes the way life goes. But I like to think that maybe certain opportunities come about that would never have happened otherwise. Is it a coincidence that we met? Maybe. But of all the places you could have run, of all the beaches you could have passed out on, you ended up here. And you’re probably lucky that I found you first.”

“Or incredibly unlucky,” Myles pointed out.

“Well, I guess that’s the thing; whether it turns out to be good or bad, you’ll never know unless you do it. Maybe there is some invisible string of fate that just pulls things together. I mean, that’s how the tides work, isn’t it? There’s an attraction from the moon that shifts the Earth and its oceans. It’s just a thing that is. You don’t see the force, but you see how the tide comes in and goes out, even when you can’t see the moon at all. That connection is always there and will be for as long as this world exists.”

“So, is that like, a law to being a merman? You gotta be all poetic and shit?”

Ronan grinned. “Is it a law for all werewolves to be tough douche bags?”

“Probably.” He turned his gaze to the setting sun. “So, I guess I’m the moon, and you’re the ocean.”

“It’s a fitting metaphor, don’t you think?”

“And you think we were meant to find each other?”

“Well, not in some grand romantic sense, no.” He shrugged. “I have a lot of time to think about things. It gets quiet out here. I could use a friend who I don’t have to hide around. Someone who gets it, you know?”

“Except I don’t think you do get it,” Myles said. “You’re inviting a literal dangerous monster into your home. I’ll probably eat you.”

Ronan smiled. “I don’t think you will.” He shrugged. “But you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you. I just think it makes the most logical sense.”

“Says the guy who compared me to a literal full moon. That’s not poetic, it’s cliche. I’m a werewolf.”

“I think you should be more worried about me killing you,” Ronan mused. “I can already tell you’re going to be an incredibly annoying roommate.”

“Going to be?” Myles echoed, raising a single brow.

“So, I’ve got a steak in the fridge we can cook up for dinner.” He met Myles’s gaze. “Dogs like steak, right?”

Myles stood abruptly, visibly fuming, his hands balled into fists at his side. He stomped a foot. “I’m not a dog!”

“I literally picked up a stray on my beach.”

“Say it one more time, fishboy!”

Ronan stood. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“I hate it here,” Myles muttered. He paused, then glanced at Ronan. “What kinda steak we talkin’?”

Ronan grinned. “Only the best for my new roomie.” He pat Myles’ head.

“Stop it,” Myles hissed.

“This is going to be fun,” Ronan said, turning and making his way back toward the house. “We’ll have pillow fights and paint each other’s nails.”

Myles followed. “I’ll smother you.”

“You won’t.”

Myles sighed. “I’m gonna need more alcohol.”