Chapter 17
Rainse
The walk back to the main lodge felt surreal. I was holding my mate's hand—my actual, confirmed, chosen mate—and the morning sun was turning everything gold, and I couldn't stop grinning like an idiot.
Verity caught me at it. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Looking insufferably pleased with yourself."
"I am insufferably pleased with myself," I said. "I have excellent reason."
She laughed, and the sound went straight through the bond into my chest. The greenskin along my shoulders shivered in response, and her eyes tracked the movement with scientific interest that was somehow also hungry.
"We should probably look less..." She gestured vaguely at us. "Obvious."
"We look like two people who spent the night in a hut during a storm."
"We look like two people who spent the night fucking in a hut during a storm," she corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there? I'm not familiar with human social cues."
"Liar." But she was smiling, her hair still damp and tangled, her lips still faintly swollen from kissing. She looked thoroughly ravished, and I was absolutely not sorry about it.
We crested the path, and the main lodge came into view. A few early risers were already moving around—staff preparing breakfast, a finman doing morning stretches on the beach, two human women chatting over coffee on the terrace.
They all stopped and stared.
"Subtle," Verity muttered.
"Perhaps we should have combed your hair."
"Perhaps you should have dimmed your greenskin. It's still glowing."
I glanced down. She was right—faint traces of bioluminescence still clung to the strands along my ribs and shoulders, the aftereffects of bonding. "I can't control that."
"Convenient excuse."
"Scientific fact," I countered, and she elbowed me in the ribs.
We made it halfway across the main deck before Fionn appeared in our path, arms folded, expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. Elise stood beside him, looking delighted.
"There you are," Fionn said mildly. "We were starting to wonder if the storm had washed you out to sea."
"We took shelter," I said.
"I can see that." His gaze flicked between us, taking in every detail—our wrinkled clothes, the faint glow of my greenskin, the way Verity's hand was still tucked in mine. "Productive shelter, I assume."
"Very," Verity said before I could answer, and I loved her for it.
Elise practically bounced on her toes. "Oh my God. You bonded. You actually bonded. Fionn, they bonded!"
"I have eyes, love."
"This is so exciting! Welcome to the family, Verity. Officially. Well, almost officially. You need to do the DNA test, right? But basically officially. Close enough." She grabbed Verity's free hand. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need anything? Water? Food? A nap?"
"I need," Verity said carefully, "to submit a DNA sample and then possibly sleep for twelve hours."
"We can arrange that," Fionn said. "Though Pam will want to speak with you first."
I groaned. "Can't that wait?"
"You vanished for an entire night with a human female during a tropical storm," Fionn said. "No, it cannot wait. She's already called twice."
Verity squeezed my hand. "It's fine. Let's just get it over with."
Twenty minutes later, we were seated in Fionn's office—a human conference room that had been converted into something resembling a command centre. Pam's hologram flickered to life above the desk, her expression the particular blend of professional and long-suffering that I'd come to know well.
"Rainse," she said. "And Verity. How lovely to see you both alive and well."
"Thank you for your concern," I said.
"That wasn't concern. That was sarcasm." She adjusted her glasses. "Now, would someone like to explain to me why you two disappeared? Again? During a storm?"
Verity's cheeks flushed pink. I bit back a smile.
"We took shelter from the storm," I said.
"I'm sure you did." Pam's gaze sharpened.
"Yes, we did" Verity confirmed. "And I'd now like to submit a DNA sample to confirm the match officially."
Pam's expression softened slightly. "I see. And this was your choice? You weren't coerced or pressured?"
"Absolutely not." Verity's voice was firm. "Rainse has been nothing but respectful. Well, mostly respectful. The point is, I chose this. I want this."
Something in my chest loosened at her words. I'd known she wanted me—the bond made that clear—but hearing her say it out loud, in front of witnesses, felt like vindication.
"Very well," Pam said. "Elise has been kind enough to offer the Tidebound to fly the sample to our lab.
That will make everything much quicker. Paul, my representative on the island, will give you a sample pack.
All you have to do is spit in a tube, nothing scary.
If you do it right away, then results should be back within twenty-four hours. "
"Twenty-four hours?" I echoed. "That fast?"
"I'm fast-tracking it." Pam's mouth twitched. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill. Or perhaps an attempt to prevent any more unauthorised glowing huts on my island. Yes, Fionn told me."
I worked hard to repress a comment along the lines of 'my greenskin is none of your business'.
"Verity, we'll also need to discuss your status moving forward. You came here as a rescued shipwreck victim, but if you're choosing to stay—"
"I have questions about that," Verity interrupted. "If I stay, what happens to my work? My research?"
Pam raised an eyebrow. "What would you like to happen?"
"I'm a marine biologist," Verity said. "Specifically, I study cetaceans—whales, dolphins, that sort of thing.
I've spent years building my career, and I'm not willing to give that up.
Not even for—" She glanced at me. "Well.
Not even for excellent reasons. I can do some of my work remotely, but I need a lab.
Storage for samples. Assistants or students. "
Pride surged through me. This was my mate—brilliant, determined, unwilling to compromise herself for anyone. I didn't want her to give up her work, her passion for me. I would support her in her endeavours, no matter what.
"We could establish a research position here," Fionn said thoughtfully. "The island is well-positioned for cetacean studies. And having a legitimate marine biologist on staff would help maintain our cover as a private resort for the rich."
"That could work," Verity said slowly. "I'd need access to equipment—hydrophones, tagging supplies, a boat for field work. And I'd want to publish my findings, which means collaborating with other researchers."
"We can arrange all of that," Pam said. "Within reason, of course. You'd need to be careful about what information you share. No accidental references to alien mermen in your papers."
"I'm a scientist," Verity said dryly. "I know how to keep my work and my personal life separate."
"There's another option," I said, an idea forming. "You could study us."
Everyone turned to look at me.
"Explain," Pam said.
"Verity is a biologist who studies marine life," I said. "We are marine life. Alien marine life that humanity doesn't know exists. The data she could gather—about our physiology, our adaptation to Earth's oceans, the biological basis of the mate bond—it would be groundbreaking."
Verity's eyes had gone wide. "That's... actually brilliant.
I'd need to shift my focus from cetaceans to something more interdisciplinary—marine biology meets xenobiology, essentially.
But the core skills are transferable. And the research questions are fascinating.
How do finfolk navigate? What's the evolutionary purpose of greenskin?
Why are you biologically compatible with humans when you evolved on a completely different planet? "
"You're getting excited," I observed.
"I'm a scientist. This is the opportunity of a lifetime." She turned to Pam. "Would that be allowed? Studying the finfolk?"
"With appropriate ethical oversight and consent from the subjects, yes," Pam said.
"In fact, having documented research on finfolk biology could be invaluable for future matches.
I might even be able to get some extra funding from the Intergalactic University.
We know remarkably little about the scientific basis for the mate bond. "
"I could change that," Verity said, and I could see her mind already racing ahead, planning studies and forming hypotheses.
"Then it's settled," Fionn said. "Verity will stay on as the island's resident marine biologist and xenobiologist. We'll provide whatever equipment and support she needs."
"There's one more thing," Verity said, her hand finding mine again. "The Minerva. My team. They're expecting me to contact them with a decision about returning to the ship."
The joy that had been building in my chest dimmed slightly. "What will you tell them?"
She was quiet for a moment, considering.
"The truth. Or as much of it as I can share.
That I've been offered a research position too good to pass up, studying marine life in a private facility.
They won't be happy—I'm supposed to be on that expedition for another six weeks—but they'll understand.
Science is full of people following unexpected opportunities. "
"And if they don't understand?" I asked quietly.
"Then they don't." She met my eyes. "I'm choosing this, Rainse. I'm choosing you, and this island, and the chance to study something no human has ever studied before. If that costs me some professional relationships, I'll rebuild. I'm good at what I do."
The bond pulsed with her certainty, and I had to resist the urge to kiss her right there in front of everyone.
"Excellent," Pam said. "Then let's get that DNA sample processed."
Verity stood, then paused. "Actually, one more question. What happens during these twenty-four hours? Before the results come back?"
"You're free to spend time together," Pam said. "Just perhaps avoid any more mysterious glowing huts. The staff are starting to ask questions."