His Lucy refused to recognize their destiny. She refused that night, on the sea, and the next day, on the land.

Probably, this was because she had not grown up on the sacred island.

Torun watched her maneuver her rusty boat between the sleek, white ships to the crowded main dock.

On the sacred island, she would have heard about his kind from her mother and grandmother. She would know it was her fate to live on the bottom of the ocean and give him a young fry.

As long as she held the mating jewel, which she called a Sea Opal, in a special pouch close to her heart, its siren song would call to her. She would begin to believe in him, and her soul star would shine.

“You move this boat skillfully,” he told her.

Her star burned brighter.

Then, she dimmed and waved his compliment away.

“I’ve been sailing these waters for years,” she said. “My dad had a charter boat business off the coast of Oregon, so when I grew up, I sailed through rocky shores every summer. This is nothing.”

“Many others do not handle their boats as well.”

She looked over his shoulder. The crew on larger vessels struggled, and smaller vessels hung up on hidden snags.

“Well, it can be deceptive if you don’t know the area.”

She eased into their docking place. The engine squealed and they bumped the dock harder than she intended.

“Ugh. You praised me too soon.” Her cheeks pinked. “I’m out of practice.”

He caught her in his arms. “You are wrong.”

Her heart thumped loud in her chest.

She pushed against his arms, her cheeks reddening. “I am so out of practice. Usually I do better. I haven’t had the chance to get out much.”

“I mean that I must praise you sooner.”

She stopped struggling. “Huh?”

“And later, and also more often. Praise makes you shine brightly.”

She paused, thinking.

He luxuriated with her softness. Her gentle skin caressed his forearms, and her swelling curves pressed against his thighs.

“Something has beaten you down and caused your light to dim. But you deserve to shine, Lucy. You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever known.”

Her dark eyes glued to him and her sweet tongue licked her lips. His words caught her off guard. Her frown returned, and she pulled away.

“Since you’re from an isolated, all-male tribe, I’m guessing I am also the only woman you’ve ever known.” Her light dimmed as she dismissed him. “It’s sweet of you to say it, though. Keep up the misguided compliments and I won’t be able to turn you loose on other women.”

“I do not wish to be turned loose.” He stroked her sinuous spine and pressed her against his rock hardness. “I want you close. Naked with me. Making our small fry.”

She sucked in a breath and pushed free. “No.”

Doubts panged. Every time she refused him, every time her soul dimmed, the Council’s words of warning echoed. You cannot claim a modern bride. No! He would not believe the Council. This was destiny. Lucy was his.

He barely controlled his fury. “Why do you refuse me?”

She stomped across the deck, echoing his anger. “It’s for your own good.”

“How could an action that dims your light ever be good?”

She glared at him from under a thick fringe of lashes.

It had to be destiny. Even her angry expressions enticed him. She burned like a fire and all he wanted to do was throw himself onto the flames.

Lucy flinched as though she read his mind. She backed away, secured the trawler, and crossed a wooden plank to the dock. “Trust me, merman warrior.”

“Marine warrior.” He followed her barefoot from the marina. One hand secured the blanket to his waist. The other he held ready to combat the stares that followed them into the city. “Or you may call us ‘mer warriors.’ Merman warrior is an old name for megalodon.”

“Megalodon? The gigantic prehistoric shark? They’re all extinct.”

“We killed one in the Seven Cities War, but more are hiding in the blacknight waters beneath the abyss. When they rise, they are deadly.”

The crowds hid his oddities, and attention on him lessened. Engines of moving boxes called cars and busses jockeyed around narrow streets. Sizzling foods, smoking pits, and flames erupted from stationary carts. Humans lined up to exchange paper money for these foods.

She passed one cart and waved a hand in front of her nose. “I love these tacos. They smell delicious.”

What did she mean, smell? A tickle at the back of his throat? No difference existed in the air between one cart and the next, or between the vehicles and the buildings.

Lucy selected clothes from a street vendor: long blue shorts, a tight shirt with a beach scene, and a pair of yellow flip flops.

“Shirt, shoes, service,” she said in approval.

Her approval filled his chest. He straightened and threw his shoulders back. Her eyes traced the contours of his muscles. Good. He possessed a shape his chosen bride enjoyed, and that would help convince her to put aside her fears and join with him. He flexed to give her maximum pleasure.

She sucked in a long breath and then shook herself. “Time to meet some eligible women.” She handed paper money to the vendor.

No.

Torun caught her hand before it touched the human male’s. “You are mine.”

She blinked at him.

“You touch only me. I touch only you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I’m just paying for your clothes.” Her cheeks flushed hot. Her heart beat hard beneath his palm.

The street vendor was watching them too carefully.

Torun pulled Lucy to his chest with a growl. “Do not touch other males.”

“All right. Don’t go overboard.” She reached over his shoulder and dropped the money onto the street vendor’s palm from a distance. The vendor left the change on the counter. She scooped it into her black embroidered pouch and led Torun back to the main street. “You should be careful. Women don’t like the caveman treatment.”

Caveman? Whatever that was, he would do it more. “You like it.”

She twitched. “I’m a little love-starved. Most women’s ex-husbands didn’t throw them out like trash.” She started to duck into a building.

He stopped her with an arm across the door. “I only want you.”

Lucy burned bright. She liked his declaration.

“I want you,” he repeated.

She slowly straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. Her hands trembled. “You want me, or you want a woman who will give you kids?”

“That is you,” he said.

She shook her head, ducked under his arm, and continued into the restaurant. Hmm. He had missed something.

“You want ‘kids,’” he said, using her unfamiliar word.

“That wasn’t my question.”

Air blasted down. The sensation of the space grew in his mind. The height of the ceiling, the distance to the glass and cement walls, the pulse of music in his chest, and the individual heartbeats of all the patrons sounded in his ears. Again, the pops and sizzles of foods were loud in the kitchen. But most interesting were the soul lights.

Men and women sat at tables and sipped drinks at the bar. They shone with small stars in their chests. Some engaged in animated conversations and shone brightly. Others flared or faded when they dropped quiet. Even the brightest soul did not shine as his Lucy did.

Yes. Modern humans had flickering souls but none were as bright as his Lucy.

Lucy squealed and raced to hug a large, vibrant woman. “Mel!”

Mel returned the solid hug. “Here’s the expedition leader I remember. Week One and you’re already bringing home treasures.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Lucy introduced Torun. “This is the man from my video. He’s a warlord and a merman.”

“A merman warrior!”

“Mer warrior,” Lucy corrected. “The other is a megalodon.”

Mel held out her arms and walked to Torun. “So nice to meet you.”

He stepped back. Was she herding him in some direction? She followed, arms out, her step quickening. He bumped into a table and stopped.

Mel hugged him.

He froze solid.

“Oh!” Lucy waved her hands. “He doesn’t do touch.”

“It’s fine.” The smaller woman wrapped her strong arms around his midsection. Her heart beat steadily in her chest, and her musical voice was soothing. Like a mother. “I’m a hugger.”

Lucy bit her lip.

Humans had different rules. Humans had different rules. Humans had different rules.

“It is fine,” Torun assured Lucy. Although, was it? Sireno warriors never encountered more than one woman at a time. He made up the rule on the spot. “Lucy, you are my only bride.”

Her star brightened, and she flushed.

Aha. He would have to repeat this claim many times. He would claim her, and he would praise her, and her star would shine until nothing could put it out.

“Bride?” Mel pulled back, mouth agape. “Congratulations!”

“He just says that.” Lucy dragged her friend away, her cheeks reddening and her star dimming with the dismissal. “It’s not what you think. You’re probably a bride.”

“Not my bride,” he clarified.

Mel lifted her brows. “Good thing. My husband would have choice words if I ended up as someone else’s bride.”

Husband?

Torun’s gut clenched.

No. Human rules were different. Mel’s husband would not demand justice.

If he did, Torun would take Lucy to Sireno now, over her objections, and damn the consequences.