“But if Emma has hormones, that means she’s human.”
“Are you listening to me? She can’t be human. She has our eyes. And there’s no way I could sense a human like that.”
Toraf grins. “Like what? What does it feel like?”
“Stop smiling like you know something. It’s not like that.”
“Well, what’s it like then? I’m a tracker remember? Maybe I can help you out on this one.”
Galen nods. If anyone could help him figure out his sensing, it would be a Tracker. “It feels like … like … wrestling with an electric ray. And then when we touch, it’s like swimming over a volcano vent. Hot, all over. But it’s more than that. You know how you feel when one of our own is near? You feel their pulse, and you just know they’re there?”
Toraf nods.
“Well, it’s not like that with Emma, not exactly. I’m not just aware of her. I’m … I’m…”
“Drawn to her?”
Galen looks at his friend. “Yes. Exactly. How did you know that?”
“You remember the tracker who trained me?”
Galen nods. “Yudor. Why?”
“Well, he told me once that … you know what? Nevermind. It’s stupid.”
“I swear, Toraf, I’m going to knock every one of your teeth out if—”
“He said it means she’s your mate,” he blurts. “And not just any mate, your special mate. You feel the pull toward her, Galen.”
Galen rolls his eyes. “I’ve heard that before. Romul says that’s a myth. Nobody has a special mate.” And as the oldest living Triton, Romul would know. Galen started visiting him years ago when he became ambassador to the humans. Romul taught him all the laws of the Syrena, the history of their kind, and the history of their relationship with humans. He also taught him about the ways of males and females—long before his parents ever intended him to know. Normally, when a Syrena male attains the age of eighteen, he becomes attracted to several match-worthy females at once. After spending time with each one, he is able to discern the most suitable for producing heirs and providing companionship. In cases of “the pull” though, he would only be attracted to one—and that one would be his perfect match in every way. It is thought that the pull also produces the strongest offspring possible, that it’s something in the Syrena blood that ensures the survival of their kind. A few among the Syrena still believe in it. And Galen isn’t one of them.
“Some think Grom felt the pull toward Nalia,” Toraf says softly. “Maybe it’s a family trait.”
“Well, there’s where you’re wrong, Toraf. I’m not supposed to feel the pull toward Emma. She belongs to Grom. He’s firstborn, third generation Triton. And she’s clearly of Poseidon.” Galen runs his hand through his hair.
“I think that if Grom were her mate, he would have found Emma somehow instead of you.”
“That’s what you get for thinking. I didn’t find Emma, Dr. Milligan did.”
“Okay, answer me this,” Toraf says, shaking a finger at Galen. “You’re twenty years old. Why haven’t you sifted for a mate?”
Galen blinks. He’s never thought of it, actually. Not even when Toraf asked for Rayna. Shouldn’t that have reminded him of his own single status? He shakes his head. He’s letting Toraf’s gossip get to him. He shrugs. “I’ve just been busy. It’s not like I don’t want to, if that’s what you’re saying.”
“With who?”
“What?”
“Name someone, Galen. The first female that comes to mind.”
He tries to block out her name, her face. But he doesn’t stop it in time. Emma. He cringes. It’s just that we’ve been talking about her so much, she’s naturally the freshest on my mind, he tells himself. “There isn’t anyone yet. But I’m sure there would be if I spent more time at home.”
“Right. And why is it that you’re always away? Maybe you’re searching for something and don’t even know it.”
“I’m away because I’m watching the humans, as is my responsibility, you might remember. You also might remember they’re the real reason our kingdoms are divided. If they never set that mine, none of this would have happened. And we both know it will happen again.”
“Come on, Galen. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t think you do either.”
“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. I wouldn’t want to talk about it either. Finding my special mate and then turning her over to my own brother. Knowing that she’s mating with him on the islands, holding him close—”
Galen lands a clean hook to Toraf’s nose and blood spurts on his bare chest. Toraf falls back and holds his nostrils shut. Then he laughs. “I guess I know who taught Rayna how to hit.”
Galen massages his temples. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I told you I was frustrated.”
Toraf laughs. “You’re so blind, minnow. I just hope you open your eyes before it’s too late.”
Galen scoffs. “Stop vomiting superstition at me. I told you. I’m just frustrated. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
Toraf cocks his head to the side, snorts some blood back into his nasal cavity. “So the humans followed you around, made you feel uncomfortable?”