Chapter 9
Rainse
The water was black in every direction, heavy and endless. I floated in the dark, listening for a current that wasn’t there. No sound. No song. Just silence.
Then came the voices — the Matriarchs, cold and certain. “You are not chosen.” Their words had always sounded like judgement wrapped in ritual. “You have fought too fiercely. Argued too often. The sea remembers anger.”
I tried to speak, to beg, but the words tangled in the water. I reached for my brothers, but they were already fading into the distance, swimming toward light while I sank deeper into black.
The silence pressed against me until it became pain. You are unworthy.
The words echoed until they dissolved into something softer — a hum, a rhythm. The dark water warmed, light spreading from somewhere close. The silence became breath.
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in Finfolkaheem.
I was on the islet. The sun was low, gold spilling over the sea like molten glass.
She was there, sitting on the shore with her knees drawn to her chest, hair tangled by wind, eyes bright against the light.
She turned toward me and smiled — a small, real smile, one that reached all the way to her eyes.
“You’re awake, my love,” she said.
I blinked. The sea and the dream blurred together. The line between what had been and what could be vanished like foam.
“You’re awake,” she repeated — and this time her voice wasn’t in the dream. It was beside me.
I turned my head. Reality crashed back. The sky above was soft with early morning light. The air smelled of salt, smoke, and her. She was lying next to me beneath the same cloak-turned-blanket, propped up on one elbow. She’d put her own clothes back on. Her hair brushed my shoulder.
Slowly, the memory returned. Darkness. Pain. A voice in the distance.
She’d saved me.
I remembered the flashes of light, the stinging sensation all over my body, the taste of pain like iron in my throat. And then her voice, calling through the water. Strong. Hopeful. Human.
I shifted carefully, sitting up slowly. For some reason, dried pieces of coconut were scattered across my chest, sticking to my skin and peeling off in places.
“You’re alive,” she said, squinting. “Good. That would’ve been a waste of effort.”
My throat tightened around a laugh. “You saved me.”
“You make it sound like you didn’t give me a choice.” She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “You really need to stop throwing yourself at everything that glows.”
“I didn’t know they would attack.”
“You felt it, didn’t you?” she asked. “That’s what you said — the sea felt wrong. Did you think you were invincible? Sometimes, even the smallest things can be deadly. The ocean is not a safe place. And it is full of mysteries. I'm the first to admit that, despite all the science.”
"How long was I asleep?"
"Since lunchtime yesterday. I kept a watch over you overnight, but I must have fallen asleep at some point.
I was monitoring your breathing and heartbeat - not that I know what's normal for a finman.
But they slowed down over time, so I took that as a good sign.
And since I didn't have vinegar on hand, I had to resort to coconut.
" Her gaze wandered to my chest. "Looks like it worked.
The burns are much better than they were yesterday. "
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For saving my life.”
She shrugged, but her cheeks coloured slightly. “You’d have done the same.”
“I already did,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her eyes twinkled. “Right. So we’re even now.”
I wanted to tell her that we'd always been even, that we were mates, but I bit down on the words. She wasn’t ready for that truth yet.
“You should rest,” I said instead. “You’ve done enough for one lifetime. I will make us some food soon. There are fish in the shallows. I won't need to go for a dive to find us a meal."
“You’re not the boss of me,” she said, lying back down anyway.
I smiled, unable to help it. “No,” I murmured. “But I’d like to be the reason you never need saving again.”
She was already drifting back to sleep, and I wasn’t sure she’d heard me. Maybe that was for the best.
I lay beside her, listening to the waves. For the first time in years, the word unworthy felt far away, swallowed by the sea.
Something warm and soft was pressed against my chest. I breathed in deep and the realisation swept across me like an unexpected embrace. It was her. Verity. I must have fallen asleep, and she must have rolled against me - or maybe purposely snuggled against me.
I didn't dare move. Didn't want to breathe. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my ribs, slow and sure. Each pulse sent a tremor through the bond that hummed beneath my skin. It wasn’t just a whisper anymore; it crackled with energy, alive and curious.
Every finman's bond with his mate was slightly different. Neither of my clutch-brothers had described it to feel this electric, but then, I hadn't asked them too many questions. I'd been too jealous and hadn't wanted to dwell on the sad fact that they had mates and I didn't.
She stirred and let out a soft, sleepy sound that did terrible things to my self-control.
My body wanted to draw her closer, to surround her, to breathe her in until there was no line between us.
My mind screamed to stay still. Humans didn’t understand bonds.
Not yet. Not until it was explained, chosen.
“Morning,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I managed, the word a low rumble in my chest.
She blinked up at me, confused for a heartbeat before realising how close we were. Colour rose in her cheeks. She pushed herself upright, brushing hair from her face. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t apologise,” I said quickly. “You kept me warm.”
That earned a half-smile. “Guess we’re even then.”
I almost said not even close. The bond thrummed again, a soft ache in my chest that made me glance toward the sea — and freeze.
The water beyond the reef was shifting, a column of bubbles rising in the distance. The current carried a sound I knew too well: the deep, rhythmic pulse of Finfolk resonance. A song of search and recognition.
Fionn. He'd found me.
I was on my feet before I’d even thought about it.
“What is it?” Verity asked, alarmed.
“My brother,” I said. “He’s coming.”
“Here?”
I nodded. The water exploded as a tall figure broke the surface — green skin glinting in the sunlight, hair slicked back, eyes sharp and searching.
Verity gasped softly. “There are more of you.”
“I told you,” I said quietly. “I have brothers.”
Fionn raised his hand in greeting. His expression didn't hold anger, just worry and relief. His gaze flicked to Verity. I instinctively blocked his view. He raised an eyebrow at that.
I cringed. Fionn was my brother. I should let him help me with this situation, not hide the truth from him.
"So that is why you've disappeared," Fionn sighed. Water pearled down his skin, and I imagined what he would look like to Verity - alien, masculine, attractive.
I had to stop being so jealous and protective. But it was hard to shut down those thoughts.
"Won't you introduce us?" Verity asked, stepping out of my shadow.
I'd known it wouldn't last. Taking my mate to this tiny island had been a desperate attempt for us to have privacy as we got to know each other. Avoid them taking her away from me. But it hadn't been long enough. I hadn't had the chance to tell her that she was my mate. It was all too soon.
I sighed. "Verity, this is Fionn, my clutch-brother and the interim leader of the finfolk on Earth. Fionn, this is Verity, an ocean scientist who I saved from the waves' clutch - and then she saved me."
Fionn nodded knowingly. "Yesterday. There was a disturbance in the water. It is why I went to search for you, to make sure you were safe. What happened?"
"I was attacked by huge, toothy monsters. They almost killed me."
Verity snort-laughed. "It was tiny jellyfish.
No teeth or monsters involved." Her smile weakened.
"But you are right. They did almost kill you.
I don't know why they were attracted to you in such numbers, and why you reacted so strongly to their stings, but you would have drowned if I hadn't pulled you ashore. "
"I would not. Finfolk can't drown."
Fionn sighed. "They can if they stop breathing for some reason. If what you say is true, Verity, you have my thanks for saving my brother's life. We are in your debt."
She looked at him as if she wasn't sure if he was serious. Then, she gracefully inclined her head. "It was a debt I owed. Now Rainse and I are even."
Fionn smiled. "It seems my brother has found his match. Have you talked about-"
"Not now," I interrupted.
"If it is obvious to me, it will be obvious to the other finmen on the island.
And you can't stay here forever." He looked around the islet.
"You haven't even got a shelter. A storm is approaching, you must have felt it.
It may hit tomorrow, or the sunpass after, but it is coming. You are not safe to stay here."
"Verity is injured," I snapped. "I didn't want to risk the swim until she was better."
"Injured?" my clutch-brother asked sharply. "Then you should have contacted me immediately. We could have got her to a med pod."
Verity stepped forward. "It's just a cracked rib, nothing to worry about.
But if you have a way for me off this island, I would be very grateful.
" She shot a dark look at me. "It seems Rainse forgot to mention that there are other routes to safety that don't involve swimming through dangerous currents and shark-infested waters. "
I knew Fionn well enough to know that he was struggling with his self-control. He knew I'd kept the truth from Verity. And he didn't support that decision.
"Give me a moment to explain everything, brother. I thought... I thought I'd have more time."
His gaze softened. "I will go for a swim. I saw an interesting swarm of fish nearby that I want to take a closer look at. And Rainse... Make sure you tell her everything."
I swallowed hard as I watched him wade back into the water.
I wasn't ready. Verity wasn't ready to hear the truth yet.
If I told her now that she was my mate, she'd run.
She didn't feel the bond the same way I did - none of the humans ever did.
And once we got back to the island, they'd separate us until our mate bond had been verified by science.
For that, Verity would have to consent to give a DNA sample.
Would she even want to do that? And if she did, it would take several sunpasses for the results to come back.
I couldn't be parted from her for that long. I just couldn't.
"Everything," Verity said sternly, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Spill the beans."
"Beans?"
"It's an expression. It means, tell me everything. Now."
I sighed. "I will. Under one condition."
"I don't think you're in any state to make demands. Not after what your brother implied. But... I'll hear it."
"Promise me you will listen. Don't get up, don't run away, don't ask Fionn to take you to the other island until I've finished. Please."
She cocked her head to the side as she considered my words. Then, after a small eternity, she nodded.
"I will listen."