*   *   *

They plop down on the moonlit beach. Toraf shakes the excess water from his hair onto Galen, who returns the favor by throwing a fistful of sand in his face. Galen leans back on his elbows and looks up at the star-freckled midnight sky. He shakes his head. “When are you going to tell her?”

Toraf stretches out beside his friend, resting his hands behind his head. “Tell her what?”

“That you’re already mated.”

Toraf grins. “You know me too well, I think, Highness.”

“Don’t call me that. When did my father agree to it?”

“Actually, he didn’t. Grom sealed us.”

Galen turns on his side, rests his head on his elbow. “She’ll try to overturn it, you know. Grom’s not technically king yet.”

“Yeah, he technically is. And between you and me, I hope you have a fantastic excuse not to have been there. Oh, that reminds me.” He reaches over and punches Galen square in the jaw. “That’s for allowing your sister to hide out on land with you. I’ve spent the last two weeks thinking you were both dead.”

Galen sits up and nods, rubbing his jaw. He can’t argue with that. Rayna is breaking the law by staying in human form for more than a day. She doesn’t have the immunity Galen has, but even his immunity doesn’t extend this far, and he knows it. Toraf knows it, too. “So … you’re saying you can’t sense Rayna on land?”

“You know we can’t sense each other on land, Galen.”

“Yeah, I thought I knew. Wait, did you just say Grom is king? When did that happen?”

Toraf sits up. “First of all, I don’t like your tone. I set out to find you, to bring you back for the ceremony. So don’t act like you were accessible the whole time. Two weeks ago,” he reiterates. “And what do you mean you thought? I’m sitting right next to you. You can’t sense me.”

Galen shakes his head. “No. Not you, anyway.”

“Right. You’re saying you can sense someone. On land. I don’t believe you.”

Galen rubs his eyes. “I know. I can hardly believe it myself. I haven’t told Rayna. She already said she can’t sense her and—”

“Her? Her who?”

“Her name is Emma. Dr. Milligan found her.” He tells Toraf everything—how Dr. Milligan left a message on Galen’s cell phone, how Galen went to Florida to investigate the doctor’s claim himself, how Emma ordered the shark away. How she has a habit of running into things.

Toraf is quiet for a long time. Then he says, “This doesn’t make sense. How can she be one of us? If she is, then she would have done damage to the door, not the other way around. Her thick head would have left a dent in it.”

“I know,” Galen says, nodding. “At first, I thought she was faking it. But when I picked her up, she didn’t blush. She was definitely unconscious.”

“Even if she wasn’t faking it, how can she be of Poseidon, Galen? King Antonis’s only heir died in the explosion.”

Galen shakes his head. “It doesn’t make sense, does it?” No matter how many times he runs through the facts, he can’t reconcile them with Emma. A long time ago, before Galen and Rayna were born, his brother, Grom, was engaged to King Antonis’s daughter Nalia. As Galen heard tell of it, they were very much in love, a perfect match between the houses of Triton and Poseidon.

The law requires the firstborn heirs of each house to be mated, every third generation. To most, it is an obligation to fulfill, a motion to be carried out. It hardly ever happens that the firstborns actually want to be mated. But these two were different. Everyone insists these two had bonded the first time they saw each other. But right before their mating ceremony, they got into an argument—about what, either nobody remembers or nobody is saying—but several saw Nalia fleeing from Grom. Apparently, he gave chase—right into a mine set by the humans, who seemed to be at war all over the world at the time. Grom was badly injured. The best trackers from both kingdoms scoured everywhere. After days, they announced Nalia must have been blown to bits. Already widowed, the devastated Poseidon king accused Grom of killing his only daughter intentionally. Then Antonis vowed never to take another mate, to never sire an heir again—therefore eliminating any chance of their offspring inheriting the Gifts of the generals, Poseidon and Triton.

When he decreed the house of Triton an enemy, the two kingdoms split for good. Grom has never spoken of it, has never shown his feelings about any of it. Except that, he never chose another mate.

But now he doesn’t have a choice. If Grom officially took the reigns of rulership from his father, the law requires him to select a mate. And if Emma is of Poseidon, then she is in line to fulfill that law.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Galen says again. “But I know what I saw. She talks to fish. And they listen. She’s definitely of Poseidon.”

Toraf exhales in a gust. “So, where has she been all this time? Why does she choose the company of humans over us?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, idiot.”

“Listen, minnow, not to be overly critical, but you don’t really seem to know what you’re doing. Threatening to arrest her? Chasing her down the hall? That’s a little out of character for you, don’t you think?”

“I was frustrated. Do you realize how … how … sensual female humans are? Within ten minutes of walking through those doors, a swarm of them followed me. Everywhere. Even the adult females in the office gave me mating signals! Rachel calls it hormones. She thinks hormones made Emma act so funny and run away like that, too.”