Hard to Get

Part 1

Toraf checks his pace, allowing Rayna to close some of the distance he’d put between them since leaving Galen and Emma standing on the beach. This is a habit of his, he realizes, to slow down for her so she can catch up. She’s always been insecure about being slow, especially since her twin brother Galen is so fast.

Now is not the time to nurture her, idiot. You just kissed Emma. No amount of nurturing can save you from Rayna’s wrath.

When he senses that she’s within in visual range, he launches forward again—partly because he wants her to see him swim away from her, but mostly because he’s not ready to talk about what happened yet. His fin swirls a nearby group of jellyfish into a whirpool. Normally this would be a treat for him, to scatter the jelly fish in different directions. Sometimes they even—

Concentrate, half wit! She’s getting closer!

What will he say? Where should he start?

What have I done?

He shakes his head. I had to do it. The twins needed to be shaken up. Taught a lesson. It was the most efficient way to get through to both of them.

Well, idiot, you’ve efficiently earned yourself a busted lip when Rayna catches up to you. Galen already pounded your guts into a mess of bruises. Now you want to attract sharks with fresh blood?

Toraf scowls. No, she won’t bust my lip this time. I saw her face. She’s heartbroken.         

Which is more than he’d hoped for. And worse than he’d intended. He wanted to startle her to her senses. To make her jealous. Not to shred her heart to pieces.  In retrospect, he admits it probably wasn’t the greatest idea. Galen’s fist didn’t exactly tickle. Plus, Emma tried to squirm out of his grasp the whole time—awkward.

Stop acting like a fingerling. Finish what you started. End. It.          

Even now, torn and under attack by his emotions, it doesn’t feel right to swim away from Rayna. Not when all he wants to do is fold her up in his arms and cuddle her senseless.  But cuddling her senseless hasn’t gotten him anywhere. Sure, kissing Emma was drastic, and from Galen’s reaction, possibly life-threatening. But if this is the only way to get through to Rayna, Toraf refuses to regret it. He needs her to see that they’re meant to be together.

So, it’s painfully counterintuitive when he speeds up again. He can just imagine what Rayna’s face looks like as she watches his the force of his wake swoosh the seaweed and disburse schools of minnows as he leaves her behind—again.

He’s not, however, far enough away yet to miss her corresponding growl. It’s a promise of retribution.

Toraf finally reaches the edge of the big shelf where the bottom of the ocean inevitably drops off and the deep water begins. His eyes adjust to the darkness ahead. There are no fish around. No crabs. Not even a hint of creel floating in the current.

He sends out what his mentor Yudor calls a thick ripple. Only Trackers can do it. And only Toraf has the ability to send one this big. It leaves him like an invisible net gliding through the water, capturing the pulse of other Syrena in the area and reporting it back to him. Only Rayna is close. 

Which means their impending confrontation—and his possible impending busted lip— will be a private affair.

His stomach feels like a ball of string unraveling, loosening, tightening, unknotting. He’s going to have to explain himself. And he’s going to have to do it without losing the upper hand—and more importantly, without losing Rayna. He’s not sure he’s ever successfully explained himself before. Usually he talks himself into more trouble. And he can count on no fingers how many times he’s won a confrontation with Rayna.