Chapter 18
Verity
I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and Rainse's greenskin wrapped around me like a living blanket. For a disorienting moment, I couldn't remember where I was—then everything came rushing back. The storm. The hut. The bonding. The DNA test.
The results.
"You're thinking very loudly," Rainse murmured against my hair.
"What time is it?"
"Early. The sun's barely up." His arms tightened around me. "Nervous?"
"Should I be?"
"No." He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "The test will only confirm what we already know."
"And what's that?"
"That you're mine. That I'm yours. That the universe got something right for once."
I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still soft with sleep, his hair mussed, greenskin moving in lazy patterns across his skin. Beautiful. Alien. Mine.
"When will we know?" I asked.
"Fionn said the Tidebound returned late last night. The lab processes samples overnight. So..." He glanced at the window, calculating. "Any time now, actually."
My stomach flipped. "That's—"
His strange alien watch chimed from his right wrist.
We both froze.
"That could be anything," I said.
"It could," he agreed, but he was already reaching for it.
The screen lit up with a message from Pam: Results are in. Call me in one hour.
"One hour," I repeated. "That's... not much time."
"Enough for a shower," Rainse said, already pulling me out of bed. "And breakfast. And possibly a moment of panic."
"I don't panic."
"Scientist," he said fondly. "You've been fidgeting since you woke up."
"That's not panic. That's excited anticipation."
"Is there a difference?"
"Scientifically speaking, yes. Panic involves elevated cortisol levels and—" I stopped when I saw his expression. "You're teasing me."
"I am." He kissed me, slow and thorough. "Now shower. We have results to collect."
Fifty-three minutes later, we stood outside Pam's office. I'd changed into clean clothes—Maelis had given them to me, as she was closest to me in size—and attempted to do something with my hair. Rainse looked infuriatingly composed, though his greenskin was shimmering more than usual.
"Ready?" he asked.
"No. Yes. I don't know." I took a breath. "This is ridiculous. We know what the results will say."
"Then there's nothing to worry about."
"Then why are you glowing?"
"Anticipation," he said. "Not panic."
I laughed despite myself. "Okay. Let's do this."
The door opened before we could knock. Fionn stood there, looking far too entertained.
"Come in," he said. "Pam's standing by on holo."
Inside, Elise occupied one of the visitor chairs. Cerban and Maelis had somehow appeared as well, crowded onto the small sofa.
"This isn't a spectator sport," I said.
"It absolutely is," Cerban replied. "We've been waiting for this."
"Waiting for what? Me to be proven scientifically compatible with your brother?"
"Waiting for Rainse to finally stop being miserable," Maelis said gently. "Trust me, he's been insufferable."
Rainse shot her a look but didn't argue.
Fionn activated the holo projector, and Pam's image flickered to life above the desk. She looked immaculate as always, though there was something almost warm in her expression.
"Good morning," she said. "I assume you're all assembled to hear the results?"
"We are," Fionn confirmed.
Pam pulled up a holographic display that materialised in the centre of the room. Data streamed across the screen—complex genetic sequences, compatibility percentages, biological markers I only half understood.
"The results are conclusive," she said without preamble. "Verity Walsh and Rainse of Eynhallow are a genetic match. The compatibility rating is exceptionally high even for Hot Tatties algorithm standards."
The room erupted. Elise actually squealed. Cerban clapped Rainse on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. Maelis was grinning so widely I thought her face might split.
I just stood there, staring at the data.
"That's..." I couldn't find words.
"Remarkable," Pam finished. "Yours is among the highest compatibility ratings we've ever recorded."
"What does that mean?" Rainse asked, his hand finding mine.
"It means the bond will be exceptionally strong. More resilient, more intuitive. You'll be able to sense each other across greater distances, respond to each other's emotions more acutely." Pam's expression softened further. "It means you're very, very well matched."
"Told you," Rainse murmured, and the smug satisfaction in his voice made me want to kiss him and strangle him in equal measure.
"Congratulations," Fionn said warmly. "Both of you. This calls for celebration."
"It calls for paperwork," Pam corrected, but she was smiling. "Verity, you'll need to update your status with the Intergalactic Authority. You're now officially recognised as a finman's mate, which grants you certain protections and privileges. You'll also need to decide on residency—"
"I'm staying here," I said. "On the island. For my research."
"Excellent. I'm sure Elise will let you use the Tidebound for your move. If not, the agency can arrange it."
"Moving," I muttered. It suddenly all seemed so real. And I was ready for it.
I looked at Rainse. His greenskin was glowing properly now, bright enough to cast blue-green shadows on the walls. The bond hummed between us, stronger than ever, pulsing with shared joy.
The rest of the morning dissolved into celebration. Someone—probably Elise—had arranged an impromptu party on the beach. Tables laden with food, drinks cooling in ice buckets, other finfolk and humans already gathering when word spread.
"This is too much," I protested as we emerged into sunshine and noise.
"This is exactly right," Fionn said. "We don't get many mate bonds confirmed. Let us celebrate."
What followed was a blur of congratulations and well-wishes. Finfolk I'd never met touched my shoulder in greeting. Humans welcomed me with hugs. The kitchen staff brought out dish after dish—some human, some finfolk, some fascinating fusion of both.
Through it all, Rainse stayed close, his hand in mine or his greenskin brushing against my arm. The bond pulsed steadily, anchoring me when the attention became overwhelming.
"Okay?" he murmured during a brief lull.
"Yes. Just... a lot of people."
"We can leave if you want. Go somewhere quiet."
I looked around at the smiling faces, the joy that seemed to radiate from everyone. "Give me five more minutes. Then yes, please."
Those five minutes stretched to twenty, but eventually we managed to slip away. The crowd had thinned anyway, people drifting back to their various pursuits, and no one seemed to notice when we disappeared down the beach path.
We walked in comfortable silence until the sounds of the party faded behind us, replaced by the steady rhythm of waves. The afternoon sun painted everything gold.
"Better?" Rainse asked.
"Much." I squeezed his hand. "Though I think your brothers are planning something. Cerban had that look."
"They're always planning something. Usually it involves embarrassing me."
"I look forward to it."
He laughed, and we kept walking until we reached a quiet stretch of beach, sheltered by rocks on one side and palm trees on the other. The sand here was pristine, unmarked by footprints.
Rainse stopped and turned to face me, both hands finding mine. His greenskin shimmered in the afternoon light, and I could feel the bond thrumming between us—stronger now, more certain.
"We're official," he said.
"Scientifically verified," I agreed. "I'm your mate. You're stuck with me."
"Stuck," he repeated, smiling. "That's one way to put it."
"How would you put it?"
He was quiet for a moment, his thumbs tracing circles on the backs of my hands. "Blessed. Lucky. Grateful beyond measure."
My throat went tight. "That's very poetic."
"You bring it out in me." He pulled me closer. "I spent mooncrossings thinking I'd never have this. That I wasn't worthy of it. And then you fell into my ocean."
"Technically I was thrown into your ocean by a whale."
"Best thing that whale ever did."
I laughed, slightly watery. "We should probably thank it."
"We will. Once you track it down for your research." His expression grew more serious. "Verity, I know this happened fast. A week ago, you didn't know aliens existed. Now you're bonded to one, moving to a remote island, changing your entire life—"
"Stop," I interrupted gently. "I know what I'm doing.
Yes, it's fast. Yes, it's crazy. But it's also right.
" I pressed my palm flat against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the responsive shiver of his greenskin.
"The bond isn't forcing me to stay. I'm choosing it. I'm choosing you."
"Even with all the complications?"
"Especially with them." I smiled. "I'm a scientist. I love complications. They make life interesting."
"You make my life interesting," he said quietly. "You make it worth living."
The bond pulsed with the depth of his emotion, and I felt it echo in my own chest. This thing between us—it was more than biology, more than chemistry. It was choice and commitment and the promise of building something together.
"Kiss me," I said.
He didn't need to be told twice.
His mouth found mine, soft and sure. The kiss tasted of salt air and new beginnings. His greenskin wrapped around us both, glowing faintly in the bright daylight, and I felt the bond settle—content, certain, home.
When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, the sun had begun its descent toward the horizon.
"So," Rainse said, his forehead resting against mine. "What now?"
"Now?" I tilted my head back to look at him. "Now we start building our life. Together."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." I kissed him again, quick and light. "One day at a time. One discovery at a time. One moment at a time."
"I can work with that," he murmured.
We stood there as the afternoon mellowed into evening, the ocean singing its eternal song around us. And for the first time since the whale had capsized my boat and thrown me into impossible circumstances, I felt completely, perfectly at peace.
This was where I was meant to be.
With him.
Always.