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“I didn’t want to give up saving Omegas. She wanted me to help remake Her lines.”

“Remake? You mean…”

“Same thing all the other Omegas have to do. Take mates, take knots, make babies. So I made a bargain with Her: ten years of no heats or Alphas, so I could do… this, instead.” I waved a hand in the direction of the longhouses.

“This?” She huffed impatiently. “Get trapped by an evil god on Pict and be forced to choose whether you die or breed for him? You’re an idiot. A delusional one.”

“Delusional?” I was intrigued.

“There is no Goddess, from what I can tell.” A lifetime of bitterness filled her next words. “If She does exist, She let Omegas suffer and die here for centuries. She’s the reason my mother and I were trapped. Why you’re trapped now.”

I wanted to ask about her story, but there wasn’t time. Dawn would come in about two hours. “We’re not trapped.” I stepped into the waves. “In fact, I think we’re rescued.”

In seconds, I was chest-deep in water and pressed up against the bars, reaching for the selkie who bumped his dark nose against the outside of the cage. The clouds above split, and a sliver of moonlight shone through the sudden opening, showing me who it was. I’d only seen a few selkies in this form before, but I knew who this one must be. “Kellin!”

He started to change, but something was obviously wrong. Before, he and Lachlan had slipped from their sealskins into their human forms like they were taking off a robe. Now, his skin seemed too heavy to lift, and one half of him was human while the other…

“Stop,” I pleaded, when he kept going. His head was still seal-shaped, but his dark eyes shone with determination as he tore at his skin with his one human hand. “Let me,” I urged, and he leaned forward against the bars. I snaked one hand out, the opening just large enough for my arm, and stroked his shoulder, then pulled at the fur.

It came off in my hand, like it wanted to be closer to me.

“Put it on,” Kellin gasped.

“What?” I blinked as he clung to the bars, his bare arms trembling. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he’d lost far too much weight over the past few days.

“Please,” he whispered. “Put it on?”

I did so and felt something odd, almost as if the pelt were alive. It wrapped around my shoulders and arms, clinging to me. Kellin gave a deep sigh, his eyes closing for a second. Between that moment and the next, he had enough strength to stand. In another breath, he was breathing easily and smiling.

“How?” I could feel him in the pelt I now wore, the same way that I felt Lachlan through our bond. I could almost hear his thoughts. “Soulmate? True mate?” I swallowed. “But selkies had moon mates, chosen ones. Not…”

Wait. His mother Stellina had called me his moon mate, and I’d assumed she would know. Goddess, I was an idiot.

“How long?” I asked, watching life return to Kellin the longer I wore his pelt. I’d heard stories about fated mates and had read more than my share of romances. One of the constants was that separation or rejection had terrible effects. “How long have you been suffering?”

He scoffed. “Paying the price for being a fool when I first met you, and not courting you then?” He shook his head slightly, his wet, dark hair sliding around his shoulders. “If I suffered, it was my own fault. But thank you for relieving the… strain.”

“Tell me. What do you need?” I asked. Well, demanded, maybe.

“Time to woo you, my queen,” he murmured, a thread of heat in his voice.

I pressed myself against the bars, and my lips met his in the space where they could. The seawater was cool, but his tongue was warm as we kissed like we had back in Starlak, in the bath.

“Rada?” Adiah’s soft call reminded me that we weren’t alone, and I stepped back, my cheeks hot. I gestured for her to wade in, and she did, though she stayed out of the deeper water.

“I would like you to meet one of my mates. This is Prince Kellin.”

“One of your selkies,” she gasped. “I thought…”

“Thought I was lying?” I teased. “Wait until you meet the other ones.” She choked, and I went on. “Kellin is here to rescue you. You and all the others.”

His expression darkened just as a cloud slid over the moon. “How many are there?”

“There are eleven Omegas, and ten children.”

“Twenty-one. It could be worse, I suppose.” Kellin thanked Adiah and whispered to me, “Dustin and Lachlan are six hours out at best, on a small island. They have a few supplies, a way station for the escape. We have one dinghy and two canoes. We can’t bring the dinghy close, or it will be seen. But the canoes are small. They could be mistaken for orcas, perhaps. Better to come at night, though.”

“How many can they hold?”