Destiny sent him a soulmate. His soulmate sent him a compliance checklist.
Roan Sinclair has spent the winter guarding six rescued seals at a Duluth aquarium and counting down the days until he can take them home to salt water. What he didn't plan for: a federal inspector who shakes his hand in a fluorescent-lit conference room and rewrites his entire existence.
That's what *aithne* does. It's instant. It's absolute. And it's apparently only happening to one of them.
Nikolas Hansen trusts three things: data, documentation, and the fact that his grandmother's stories were nonsense. He definitely doesn't trust the inconvenient, infuriating pull he feels toward Roan Sinclair, the aquarium handler assigned to the exhibit he's inspecting—a man who answers every direct question with a riddle and looks at Nik like he already knows him.
Solstice night changes everything—a kiss they can't take back, and two coats swapped in the dark without either of them realising what they've done. Suddenly Nik is holding evidence of a world he's spent his whole life refusing to believe in, and the only person who can explain it is the one person he can't trust blindly.
Because trusting things you can't verify, Nik learned a long time ago, is how you get hurt. And loving a selkie means learning to do exactly that—or losing him for good.
