Galen didn’t believe in the pull—until he met me. Now he’s torn, because I’m the only one he was ever drawn to. Our mating would actually back up all the hype behind the pull, and since I have the Gift of Poseidon and Galen has the Gift of Triton, our offspring could potentially have both.

Still, the law and Syrena customs appear to be crunked-up superstition. If our child was to possess both gifts I’d rather chalk it up to genetics than to some magical, whimsical myth that always makes the Syrena generals right.

“No,” I pronounce. “I don’t believe in the pull exactly. I believe in love. And genetics.” I didn’t mean for it to sound like, “so screw you,” or anything, but by his expression, I think Reed takes it that way.

“I told you I get it, Emma. You’re in no danger from me stealing you from Galen. Great guy that he is,” he mutters. He swims close to me, so close I think he’s going back on his word. His mouth is just inches from mine when he says, “Not that I don’t want to steal you away. Oh, I do. And would if I thought you’d let me.”

I try to back away, but he holds my wrist. I could snatch it out of his hand if I wanted to, but his eyes tell me he’s being sincere instead of creepy or possessive. “I would steal you in a heartbeat, Emma McIntosh,” he continues, his voice devoid of any kind of games or sarcasm or Reed in general. “But I’d have to kiss you first, and I don’t want to do that.”

For some reason, I’m offended by that. He notices and smiles.

“Don’t get yourself all worked up. You’re very kissable. But I won’t kiss you. Not until you want me to. Because I know if I do, I won’t be able to turn back. I won’t ever be the same.” He leans impossibly closer, tightening his hold on my wrist, and I swear I’m being bombarded by both his heartbeat and his Syrena pulse. “So know for sure, Emma. When you kiss me—and I think you will—know for sure who you’re going to choose.”

I ease my wrist from his grasp and give a lighthearted laugh. Even though lighthearted is the opposite of what I’m feeling. Reed seems so easygoing and laid-back, but now he’s practically handing me his beating heart for me to do with as I please, which kind of waylays me. I mean, what kind of crazy speech is this? We’ve only known each other for days and he’s putting this on the table for me to consider. Does he think we’ve been going on dates or something instead of him just acting as my (devoted) tour guide?

I feel guilty now. Because spending more time with Reed feels like leading him on. It’s clear his intentions are not strictly platonic, but I’ve been transparent from the beginning that I love Galen. Our relationship is obviously not perfect, but isn’t that the “work” part of it? I’ve always felt that the dynamics between us are like a musical snow globe. Wound tight sometimes, shaken and shaken, but never broken. Always intact and really something to behold on the inside.

It would help if Galen showed me a sign that he still loves me. That our snow globe isn’t leaking. Or worse, shattered.

And there is still my need to explore Neptune. Reed is my guide—and that’s all. I’ve already chosen who I want. A kiss from Reed will never change that. I’ll simply continue to rebuff him, and eventually (freaking hopefully) he’ll lay off the whole “let me love you” spiel.

I realize I haven’t answered him. I wonder what he sees on my face that has him so fascinated. “Got it,” I say casually, which makes him wince. But this conversation has to come to an end for so many reasons, and the only way that’s happening is if I start a new one. “Tell me about how Neptune came to be.”

He blinks, once, twice. Then his lazy smile appears once more, free of anguish or jealousy. “I would, but Father is best at telling it, really. He has Archive abilities, you know. So don’t ever try to argue with him based on memory. You’ll lose.”

“You have Archives here?”

He nods. “And Trackers. We have everything you have. Except the ocean.”

I’m starting to understand Reed’s obsession with the ocean. It’s not the ocean itself, although the oceans are endlessly fascinating. Reed’s problem is the freedom of choice. He wants something he can’t have, which makes him want it even more. And can’t I relate to that?

I decide to give Reed a break. “But your father seemed reluctant to tell us at dinner the other night. I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking him. You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

“I think your precious Galen was weaving awkward into the air or something at dinner. I’ll talk to my dad. He’ll call a Huddle.”

“A … ‘Huddle’?”

Reed nods. “You know how humans have city hall meetings and everyone gets to attend and talk about how the town is run? Well, a Huddle is just like that, only we meet secretly because what we have to talk about has nothing to do with streetlights or sidewalks.”

“We?”

“Sometimes the whole town. Sometimes a few of us. Just depends on the occasion, really. But this Huddle will be big, I can guarantee that.”

“Oh, well. I don’t really want to put your dad through all that mess. Couldn’t you just summarize for me?”

Reed grins. “Oh, yeah. I definitely could. But if I did that, you might decide that you learned everything you need to know from me. Then I won’t see you anymore.”