“It’s called blending.” He tilts his head. “Couldn’t help but notice you’re not dead yet. Kind of nonhuman of you.”

I nod, a cocktail of relief and anger swirling in my stomach. “Then you will have also noticed that I don’t have a big fin swallowing my butt either.”

“But you do have violet eyes, like me.”

“Huh. So … Rayna and Toraf ?”

He nods.

“Huh. But what about your mom? She doesn’t have the eyes.”

“She’s not really my mom. She’s my assistant, Rachel. She’s human.”

“Of course. Your assistant. Makes perfect sense.” As I try to process why a man-fish would need an assistant, I forget to tread and start sinking. Galen is a good sport and holds me up by the elbow. “But I can’t change into a big blob of water. Blend, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t turn into water, my skin changes, so I can conceal myself. You’ll eventually be able to, once you can shift into your fin.”

“What makes you think I can? I don’t look like you. Other than the eyes, I mean.”

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“And did I mention I don’t have a big fin—”

“But, you do have everything else.” He crosses his arms.

“Like what?”

“Well, you have bad temper.”

“I do not!” Chloe had the bad temper. I earned the nickname Sugar our sophomore year because only I could sweet-talk her out of a fight. “In fact, they voted me Most Likely to Work for Hallmark in our middle school yearbook,” I tell him as an afterthought.

“You realize I don’t understand anything you just said.”

“Basically, everyone thinks—knows—how sweet I am.”

“Emma, you threw my sister through hurricane-proof glass.”

“She started it! Did you just say hurricane-proof glass?”

He nods. “Which also means you have hard bones and thick skin like us. Otherwise, you would have died. Which we need to discuss. You threw yourself—and my sister—through a wall of glass when you thought you were both human. What were you thinking?”

I won’t meet his glare. “I guess I didn’t care.” Telling him I meant to murder his sister probably wouldn’t go over very well. It would definitely cancel out the Hallmark vote.

“Unacceptable. Don’t ever risk your life like that again, do you understand?”

I snort, sending little air bubbles dancing upward. “Hey, you know what else I don’t care about? You giving me orders. I acted stupid, but—”

“Actually, this is a good time to point out that I’m a Royal,” he says, pointing to the small tattoo of a fork on his stomach, just above the border where his abs turn into fish. “And since you’re obviously Syrena, you do have to obey me.”

“I’m what?” I say, trying to figure out how an eating utensil could possibly validate his claim of seniority.

“Syrena. That’s what we—including you—are called.”

“Syrena? Not mermaids?”

Galen clears his throat. “Uh, mermaid ?”

“Really? You’re gonna go there now? Fine, merman—wait, I wouldn’t be a merman.” Really though, what do I know about fish gender? Except that Galen is definitely male, no matter what species he is.

“Just for the record, we hate that word. And by we, I mean you also.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. But I’m not Syrena. Did I mention I don’t have a big fin—”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

“Trying hard enough? To grow a fin?”

He nods. “It’s not natural to you yet. You’ve been in human form too long. But it will start to bother you, being in the water with legs. You’ll get the urge to … stretch.”

“Does it hurt?”

He laughs. “No. It feels good, the same way it feels good to stretch after you’ve been sitting a while. Your fin is one big muscle. When you separate it between two human legs, it’s not as powerful. When you change into Syrena form, the muscles stretch and twist back together. Do you feel anything like that right now?”

I shake my head, eyes wide.

“It’s just a matter of time,” he says, nodding. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Galen, I’m not—”

“Emma, that you’re talking to me half a mile underwater is proof enough of what you are. By the way, how do you feel?”

“Actually, my lungs feel kind of tight. What does that mean?”

Before more puny air bubbles escape, he wraps his arms around me and we shoot up. “It means you’re running out of air now,” he murmurs in my ear. My shiver isn’t from the cold.

Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be freezing half a mile deep in the Atlantic Ocean? I mean, as cold weather goes, I’m kind of a wuss. No one bundles up more than me in the winter. So why aren’t my teeth chattering into bits? It’s swimming-pool cold, not my-tear-ducts-have-ice-in-them cold. Is that thanks to the thick skin Galen mentioned? Does it work like insulation? Does it only work in water?

We break the surface. Galen nods in approval as I exhale the old air and take in the new. I gulp in a fresh lung-full and start to submerge, but he shakes his head, pulling me back up. “Let’s not push it. I’m not sure how long you can hold your breath. I guess we’ll have to keep an eye on that, at least until you figure out how to change.”