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Luke frowned as he peered around the empty guest bedroom. Because no, that wasn’t right. Besides the fact that other people in his life had met and interacted with the merman, Luke’s imagination just wasn’t up to the task of creating someone like Syrus on its own. And it definitely wasn’t up to the task of pretending someone like Syrus would be equally enthralled with Luke, always talking about things like spend and pleasing forms and…mates.

Mates.

Luke swallowed hard and left the bedroom, heading toward the back of the house. He had a feeling he knew where Syrus might be.

Luke found him on the back porch, barefoot and in his silk robe again, staring out toward the ocean. It wasn’t like Syrus could actually see it—it was a dark, moonless night, and there were trees and a whole highway in between Luke’s house and the sea. And a person could only hear it sometimes, on a quiet night when no cars were driving past.

But Syrus was nonetheless facing the right direction, like he could sense its presence out there. Like it called to him, maybe, in the same way he claimed he’d called to Luke.

Luke shut the door quietly behind him. “You miss the water?” he asked Syrus’s broad back.

Syrus didn’t startle or turn around. He must have already heard Luke’s approach, the creak of the back door if nothing else. He must also have been freezing, with only a little bit of silk between him and the cold night air.

Luke had an overwhelming urge to come up behind him and place his hands on those broad shoulders, slide them up and over until he was wrapped around Syrus and giving him all his warmth.

Was that what a mate would do?

Luke had no idea. Syrus’s revelation in the crystal shop had been followed by Shauna’s reappearance, then a frantic, phone-assisted online shopping spree Luke had been too dazed to even pretend to participate in (not that his input had been at all required). Syrus, for that matter, didn’t seem to think his words had been a revelation at all. He seemed to think, instead, that he’d been very clear, like Luke should have just known that all along Syrus intended to…stay. Not just in Luke’s home, but in his life. In his bed.

“There is nothing to miss,” Syrus said now softly. “The ocean stays constant.” He shifted on his feet. “I only itch to stretch my fins, perhaps.”

Luke’s gaze dropped to Syrus’s bare feet, which still looked shockingly bad but seemed to pain him less and less. But maybe, regardless of injury, it was uncomfortable for him staying in this form for so long. He was so natural with it that Luke could forget he wasn’t born into it.

“Does it hurt to be human?”

Syrus did turn around now, a fond look on his face. “No more so than it does to be anything else, I would think.” He stepped forward, closer and closer until they were toe to toe and he was looming over Luke. “And I am not human, dear Luke. Even when I look it.”

Luke licked dry lips. He’d asked for straightforward, hadn’t he? And there it was, the needed reminder. Syrus wasn’t human. He wasn’t some random houseguest. He was a creature from the depths, and one who, for whatever reason, wanted Luke in his clutches.

The night air was cold and harsh in Luke’s lungs. He struggled to keep his breaths even as Syrus invaded his space. If Luke looked straight ahead, there was nothing to see but Syrus’s collarbone, bared to Luke’s gaze by the opening in his robe. Luke wanted to lick at the skin there. Bite it, maybe.

Except that would be playing right into Syrus’s hands.

Syrus narrowed his eyes with that amused crinkle, like Luke’s struggles were both obvious and endearing to him. Luke knew he wasn’t being laughed at, exactly, but it still sent his hackles up. He tilted his head and met Syrus’s dark gaze squarely. “What would you do if a human came into the ocean and invited himself into your home and demanded to be your mate?”

The crinkle around Syrus’s eyes only deepened. “That depends,” he mused. “Is he very pretty, this human?”

Luke shook his head in annoyance. “No. He’s very…ordinary.”

“Mm.” Syrus pretended to look thoughtful, then shook his head. “But there I must disagree.”

Despite the cool night air, Luke’s cheeks went hot. Which was stupid, really. It was false praise. Even if Luke didn’t think he was a cretin, he was, if anything, somewhat handsome. No one had ever called him pretty, not even when he’d been much younger and…fresher.

Syrus raised a hand to Luke’s face, smooth fingertips trailing over his features. “From what I can tell,” Syrus crooned, “this human has lovely eyes and a finely shaped face. He has strength and size, but is still small enough to fit nicely in my hands.”

“I’m not small.” Luke fought the urge to close his eyes and press his face into Syrus’s touch. “You’re just very large.”

A flash of white teeth in the darkness. Syrus stroked along Luke’s bearded chin, ruffling through the short hair there. “I’d think that this human you speak of was very brave and maybe a little foolish. I’d feel very protective of such a creature.”

Luke bit at his lip to stop the shiver that threatened to run through him. “I’m actually very rational. Cautious, even. Boring.”

“Ah, but when life offered you something you wanted very much, you took it, didn’t you? Even though the means were unconventional, and you’ve received judgment from your community.”

Colby. He meant Colby and the situation with Gina.

And that was true, wasn’t it? Luke had made his life smaller since then, circling the wagons around the role of father he’d chosen for himself, but he had made that choice. He’d wanted a child of his own, and he hadn’t wanted to wait for a possible future with a loving partner and white picket fence. He’d wanted to take what life had given him and never, ever give it back.

Syrus bent his head, replacing the tender touch of his fingers with the nuzzle of his nose along Luke’s jawline. “Dearest Luke, you’ve had a very tiring day. Let me tuck you in, hm? The ocean can wait.”