I feel Galen relax beside me. He nods up at his brother. “Agreed.” Then he looks down at me. “They’ll need time to digest all this. Once Nalia explains everything, and enough time has passed for them to accept—”

“There’s something else,” Grom blurts. He rakes his hand through his hair, something Galen does when he’s particularly frustrated. I find my immature self thinking, I don’t want Grom and Galen to be alike, and then my grown-up self says, Knock it off. And then Grom says: “I’m already mated to Paca.”

The realization slaps us each in a different way.

Me, with elation.

Galen, with … I’m not sure. He hasn’t moved.

Mom, with horror.

Toraf, with open-mouth shock that makes him look a bit silly.

Rayna, with “You idiot,” she spits. “We told you—”

Grom points at her in the universal watch-yo-self sign. “No, you didn’t tell me. All you told me was that I shouldn’t mate with Paca. That she was a fraud. But you…” Grom turns to Galen. “And you didn’t tell me the truth. I won’t take the full blame for this.”

I can tell Rayna’s all kinds of mad, but Galen cows her with a look. “He’s right,” he tells his sister. Then he nods up at Grom. “But we didn’t know the truth—well, not the whole truth—until we got back to shore after you banned us from the territories. We didn’t know Nalia was alive, but we should have told you about Emma. But are you so sure you would have listened? Seemed like you’d already made up your mind.”

Grom pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. Probably not. But I don’t think you understand what all this means.” By the way Galen cocks his head, I think Grom is right. In fact, by the way everyone holds their breath and looks at Grom, I think none of us knows what this means.

“It means, little brother,” Grom says, his voice full of bitter, “that you’re next in line to become Nalia’s mate.”

Ohmysweetgoodness.

8

EVERYONE IS quiet, as if Grom’s words deprive the air of its breathable qualities. Nalia takes her seat in a chair this time, instead of his lap. She stares up at Galen in horror, the same horror you feel when you know something’s true but every fiber in your body rebels against it. The same horror saturating Galen right now, threatening to push him over the edge and riot against the idea of it all.

The Law of the Gifts states the firstborn of every third generation from each house must mate. That used to mean Nalia and Grom. When they thought Nalia was dead, there were no Poseidon heirs left for Grom to mate with. Grom was free to choose a different mate, which he did. But now Nalia is back from the dead. And though Galen is younger than Grom, he’s still from the same generation—and the next heir in line for the Triton kingship if something were to befall his brother.

This cannot be happening.

“I can’t believe our parents wanted more offspring after you,” Rayna tells Grom. Even hoarse, she’s still able to infuse her irritation in each forced word. “After birthing an idiot like you, I’d never even think about having more—”

“Quiet, Rayna,” Emma shouts. Emma has obviously learned how to deal with his sister; Rayna leans back against the headboard of the bed and makes her poutiest face. “He’s not finished. Keep going, Grom. We’re listening.”

Grom folds his hands in front of him. “Keep going with what, Emma?”

“The but,” she says.

“The … the but?” Grom throws an inquisitive glare to Galen, but he pretends not to notice. There’s no point. He’s got no idea why Emma’s talking about butts.

“You know,” Emma says, full of polite and calm. “Galen’s in line to become Nalia’s mate, but. That’s where you left off.”

“Ah.” Grom motions for Toraf to move his legs so he can sit on the bed across from Emma. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer after the ‘but’ this time.”

Emma stiffens at Galen’s side, and he instinctively tightens his hold on her. He’s positive he can feel the makings of a temper tantrum rumbling through her. “Oh. So what you’re saying is that you’re out of your freaking mind.”

Grom crosses his arms. This could be bad.

Emma tugs herself from Galen’s grasp and stands. Galen knows he shouldn’t have let her free, because she’s definitely got tantrum all over her face, but he’s too curious to see how Grom will react. After all, Grom fell in love with the very female who pulled a knife on Galen. He figures Grom is due for his own battle.

“Galen is not mating with my mother. My mother is not mating with Galen. So run along to your new bride, and leave us all alone.”

Galen hears Rayna whisper, “What’s a bride?” but he keeps his eyes on Grom, who takes his time standing up, squaring his shoulders. He’s seen Grom do this before. Make himself appear as big as possible by invading the space of whoever he’s trying to intimidate. A challenge. This is the part where the other person backs down.

But the other person has never been Emma. She steps toward the Triton king. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re still here,” she says.

Grom’s face softens into what could be amusement. “You and I don’t know each other, little one. But I think we both know I’m not leaving.”

“You and I seem to disagree on a lot of points,” Emma returns.