Of Poseidon

pain.”
    “You threw Rayna through a window. Call it even?”
    “When are you going to get over that? Besides, she provoked me!”
    “Mark provoked me, too. He put his hand on your leg. We won’t even talk about the kiss on your cheek. Don’t think I didn’t hear you give him permission either.”
    “Oh, now that’s rich,” I snort, getting out of the car. Slamming the door, I scream at him. “Now you’re acting jealous on behalf of your brother,” I say, spinning in place. “Can Grom do anything without the almighty Galen helping him?” Having a few half fish in my family tree keeps my vision from blurring through the pudgy tears—I can perfectly see the solid yellow line on the road as I walk it. When I hear him following, I rip off my heels and start sprinting. Two months ago, this kind of abuse to my bare feet would leave them bleeding and with who-knows-what embedded in them. But with the convenience of my new thick skin, running barefoot is like running in Nike’s latest kicks.
    Galen is apparently a flying fish though—his hand wraps around my arm, braking my own sad attempt at flight. He whirls me around. Pulling me to him, he lifts my chin with the pad of his thumb. When I jerk away, he grasps it tight, forcing me to look at him. The old Emma would be bruised within the next ten minutes. The new one is just pissed off.
    “Let go!” I screech, pushing against his chest. Somehow this just gets me closer to him.
    “Emma,” he growls as I stomp his foot. “What would you have done?”
    Okay, that’s unexpected. I stop flailing. “What?”
    “Tell me what you would have done if you were me. Tell me what you would do if you had to choose between the survival of mankind—and I’m talking babies and grandmothers and all your human relatives,” he says, breathless. I realize I’ve never seen that before. Galen low on air. “Tell me how easy it would be to abandon them, if it meant you could have the only thing you’ve ever wanted in your whole life? Tell me, Emma. Which would you pick?”
    “I … I don’t … under—”
    He shakes me, his grip inflexible. “Yes, you do, Emma. You know exactly what I’m saying. Answer me. Think of what you want the most. The one thing you might not be able to live without.”
    Well, that’s a no-brainer. It’s Galen, hands-down. “Okay.”
    “Now imagine how you’d feel if you were asked to trade that one thing you love so that the human race could go on. People you don’t even know. People who aren’t even born yet. Would you do it? Could you? Even if almost no one ever knew the huge sacrifice you made for them and would never appreciate what you gave up?”
    Gently, I shake free from his grasp. He lets me step away from him. The intensity in his eyes sends chills down the length of me. “It would be selfish not to trade,” I say quietly. “It’s not even a choice, really.”
    “Exactly. I didn’t have a choice.”
    “Are you saying … What are you saying?” Is he … could he be talking about me?
    He runs a hand through his hair. I’ve never seen him this emotional before. He’s always so controlled, so sure of himself. “I’m saying you’re what I want, Emma. I’m saying I’m in love with you.”
    He steps forward and lifts his hand to my cheek, blazing a line of fire with his fingertips as they trace down to my mouth. “How do you think it would make me feel to see you with Grom?” he whispers. “Like someone ripped my heart out and put it through Rachel’s meat grinder, that’s how. Probably worse. It would probably kill me. Emma, please don’t cry.”
    I throw my hands in the air. “Don’t cry? Are you serious? Why did you come here, Galen? Did you think it would make me feel better to know that you do love me, but that it still won’t work out? That I still have to mate with Grom for the greater good? Don’t you tell me not to cry, Galen! I … c … c … can’t h … h … help—” The waterworks soak me. Galen looks at me, hands by his side, helpless as a trapped crab. I’m bordering on hyperventilation, and pretty soon I’ll start hiccupping. This is too much.
    His expression is so severe, it looks like he’s in physical pain. “Emma,” he breathes. “Emma, does this mean you feel the same way? Do you care for me at all?”
    I laugh, but it sounds sharper than I intended, because of a hiccup. “What does it matter how I feel, Galen? I think we pretty much covered why. No need to rehash things,