Galen opens his mouth to contradict that, to tell her to go home tomorrow and stay there, but then he sees her exasperated expression. He grins. “He found you.”
Rayna crosses her arms and nods. “Why can’t he just leave me alone? And why do you think it’s so funny? You’re my brother!
You’re supposed to protect me!”
He laughs. “From Toraf ? Why would I do that?” She shakes her head. “I was trying to catch some fi sh for Rachel, and I sensed him in the water. Close. I got out as fast as I could, but probably he knows that’s what I did. How does he always fi nd me? ”
“Oops,” Rachel says.
They both turn to her. She smiles apologetically at Rayna.
“I didn’t realize you two were at odds. He showed up on the back porch looking for you this morning and . . . I invited him to dinner. Sorry.”
As Galen says, “Rachel, what if someone sees him?” Rayna is saying, “No. No, no, no, he is not coming to dinner.” Rachel clears her throat and nods behind them.
“Rayna, that’s very hurtful. After all we’ve been through,” Toraf says.
Rayna bristles on the stool, growling at the sound of his voice. She sends an icy glare to Rachel, who pretends not to notice as she squeezes a lemon slice over the fi llets.
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Galen hops down and greets his friend with a strong punch
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to the arm. “Hey there, tadpole. I see you found a pair of my swimming trunks. Good to see your tracking skills are still intact after the accident and all.”
Toraf stares at Rayna’s back. “Accident, yes. Next time, I’ll keep my eyes open when I kiss her. That way, I won’t accidentally bust my nose on a rock again. Foolish me, right?” Galen grins. Toraf is one of the best trackers in Syrena history. His ability to sense others of his kind is acute, but more than that, he can home in on any one of them. He recognizes not only the presence of another Syrena, but after spending minimal time with them, can identify each one individually and from impossible distances. And the one he’s most sensitive to is staring in an unhealthy way at a fi llet knife across the counter.
“Rayna, your mate has come all this way to see you. You’re being rude. Why don’t you step away from the counter? Now?” Galen says, his tone hedged in warning. He’s not in the mood to fi ght with either one of them. If Rayna makes a move, he’ll be forced to subdue her. If he handles her too roughly, Toraf will take exception and handle him roughly. And besides, he’s hungry and the fi llets are almost cool enough to eat.
Rayna pushes back and whirls around. “He is not my mate.” Toraf clears his throat. Galen’s eyes go wide, but Toraf cuts him a warning look, shakes his head almost indiscernibly.
“I was hoping your feelings would have changed by now, my princess. You know you won’t fi nd anyone else who would be
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more devoted to you than me. I’ve followed you around since 0—
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you couldn’t even swim straight,” Toraf says. Although the words are tossed to her lightheartedly, Galen knows he means every one of them.
“Which is why I trusted you,” Rayna snarls. “You knew me better than Galen. You knew I never wanted to mate. You let me think you agreed with my decision. But all that time, you were planning to take away my freedom yourself.”
“Wow, shame on you Toraf,” Rachel calls from the sink.
“Anyone hungry?”
“Starving,” Galen and Toraf say. Rayna rolls her eyes and stomps to the table.
They plop down on the moonlit beach. Toraf shakes the excess water from his hair onto Galen, who returns the favor by throwing a fi stful of sand in his face. Galen leans back on his elbows and looks up at the star- freckled midnight sky. He shakes his head. “When are you going to tell her?”
Toraf stretches out beside his friend, resting his hands behind his