Chapter Five

What was I doing? I had broken more laws in the hours I had been with Muram than in the twenty-five years preceding it. Looking at his body, admiring his manners, and then touching. Touching! My parents would disown me if they knew what I was doing.

As I lay on the pallet, I could hear Muram above me. He spoke softly to himself in a language I had never heard before. Grumbles and quiet growls. The occasional sigh. Was he regretting his offer to help me?

I was still shocked that I had asked. And held his hand. Was handholding always so pleasant? The way his large hand curled around mine felt so intimate. I could not help wondering how his hands would feel on other parts of me.

My bare arms or my face? What would those thick fingers feel like combing through my hair? I pressed my hands to my heated cheeks. These lustful thoughts were the epitome of Haram. I had to control myself.

But it was so difficult when Muram was so kind and sweet. When he helped me at every turn and asked nothing in return. When he spoke to me, I could tell he saw me. There was no censure or expectation in his eyes, only patience I had never experienced before. And he was going to help me find the lily.

All I needed was a single photo and a mark on the map. If I could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Crimson Sun Lily grew wild in the National Park, I could stop the logging. Muram and the other creatures that called the park home would be safe. I could not afford any distractions. I closed my eyes and forced myself to rest.

The next morning, I woke to the sounds of the jungle and quiet footsteps. I blinked open my eyes and turned my head. Muram paused when my eyes landed on him. For a long moment, I felt captured by his stare. When he finally looked away, I exhaled shakily.

What was that? I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position to watch him shifting through the supplies at the back of the nest.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked. There was a strange quality to his voice.

"Yes," I said. "Did you?"

After a brief pause, he nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Maybe, he was tired. I studied the set of his shoulders and the stiffness of his movements. Or he was regretting his offer to help me.

"If you've changed your mind about today, I would understand," I said.

His head snapped toward me. "No. Not at all."

"If you're sure."

"I am," he said quickly. "I'm sorry if I seem distracted this morning." He turned back to his food preparation. "I have a lot on my mind."

I barely held back from prying. Why did I feel so compelled to comfort him? We barely knew each other. Was it just because he had helped me?

Male classmates and colleagues had helped me in the past, but I had never felt drawn to them. Politely grateful, but not… My mind stuttered over the word ‘attracted'. My eyes widened and I looked down at my lap.

Was I attracted to Muram? How? Why? He was not even human. If attraction to a man was haram, how forbidden would my desire for him be?

As my eyes slowly wandered to him again, I had to admit that I was attracted. He had protected me from the boar, kept me safe and fed, and asked nothing from me for his kindness. There were no long, grasping stares at my body. He had been nothing but polite and a perfect gentleman. So, of course, I was the one being improper.

I averted my gaze, my cheeks warming at the realization. I could not deny the attraction I felt, but I also could not act on it. I had to remember my work and my responsibilities. I could not let myself be distracted. Even though my hands itched to hold his again and feel his strong arms wrapped around me.

"Anissa?"

I jerked my head up to see Muram crouching beside me. He offered me a cup of water and a bowl of savory rice porridge. I took it gratefully, shivering as his fingertips dragged over the backs of my hands. I could still feel him watching me as I began to eat.

After our breakfast, Muram brought me a bowl and pitcher of water to bathe. He carefully covered the nest entrance with a woven curtain and ducked outside. I washed quickly, moving my clothes aside rather than shedding them completely. As much as I trusted Muram, he was not allowed to see anything but my face and hands. He was not a family member…or my husband.

My face flamed at the thought. I twisted my hair into a neat bun and rewrapped my hijab. Whether we found the flower today or not, I would need to return to the village for fresh clothes. I crossed the nest to push back the curtain.

Muram knelt on a branch directly across from the nest entrance. He looked up when I appeared and gave me a small smile.

"Ready?" he asked.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was high in the trees. I looked down and swallowed hard. The ground was a dizzying distance away.

"Yes, but how…?" I looked at Muram helplessly.

His eyes crinkled. "If you would allow me."

I blinked in surprise as he quickly closed the distance between us. He gripped the top of the doorway with one hand, his feet braced on the edge of the nest. It put his chest a hairsbreadth from my nose. I snapped my head back to look up at him. He was already staring down at me with an unreadable look.

"May I help you down?" he murmured. He offered his free hand.

I inhaled shakily. The warm, musky scent of him filled my nose and I shivered. Is that what all men smelled like? Earthy and vaguely sweet. I wanted to bury my face in it.

"Anissa," Muram said softly.

I shook my head. "Sorry. I was lost in thought."

"May I hold you?" he asked.

My mind stuttered. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

"To carry you down," he added.

Right. Right, of course. I nodded. "Yes, thank you."

His free arm settled around my waist and pulled me close. Thick soft fur caressed the side of my face, and I gave in to the urge to press my nose to the base of his throat. I thought I heard a low rumble, but then I was airborne. I gasped and wrapped my arms around Muram's broad torso.

It was the first time I had ever embraced a man outside my family. Something about the feel of him in my arms made me think of sultry nights and a sky full of stars.

Muram held my entire weight with one arm as he spread his wings and dropped. In a matter of seconds, my feet touched the ground, but I had to pry myself away. For the first time, I understood why such closeness was haram. My thoughts were not as innocent as they should be. For the first time, I felt the urge to break the rules.

∞∞∞

She was killing me. Walking beside her, it was impossible to miss the scent of her arousal. I tried to focus on the path ahead, but my mind kept drifting back to Anissa"s intoxicating fragrance. It took all my focus and willpower to retain my control.

I had never experienced such a strong reaction to anything. My body felt tingly and overheated and a strange heaviness had settled between my thighs. My wings trembled against my back, aching to spread wide in a mating display. It was all I could do to keep from reaching out and pulling her close to me.

We walked in silence for a while, as I tried to focus on the ground beneath my feet and the sounds around us. Anything but the evidence of her desire for me. I reminded myself she was likely chaste, like the women in the village. Their beliefs forbid intimacy outside of marriage.

Anissa cleared her throat, breaking the silence. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye to see her adjusting the scarf around her head again. It seemed to be a nervous gesture.

"Is everything alright, Anissa?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She glanced over at me, her cheeks flushed. "Yes, I"m just...it"s nothing."

I grasped for something to say. Anything but the words on the tip of my tongue. As much as I wanted to confess my feelings, beg her to let me touch her just once before the end, I could not. Whatever forces had chosen this beautiful creature as my mate had not taken reality into account. How could a human and an Ahool ever be together?

Annisa suddenly gasped and my body acted before I formed a thought. I snatched her out of the air before she hit the ground. I was still scowling at the offending tree root when she said my name. My gaze snapped to hers and I carefully set her back on her feet.

I watched Anissa brush imaginary dirt off her clothes and adjust her head scarf. I mentally shook myself. Focus! I scanned the trees around us. We were closer than I had realized.

The trees thinned up ahead, allowing sunlight to dapple the path. It was only through sheer will that I gestured for us to keep walking. Once we stepped into that clearing, Anissa would see the carpet of crimson flowers. She would mark their position on her map and take photographs. And then she would be gone.

We quickly reached the clearing and after a quick scan of our surroundings, I let her rush forward. Foreign words spilled from her mouth, as she excitedly shrugged her bag off her shoulders and began to dig through it. I watched with a faint smile. Her happiness would always bring me joy. Even now.

She tipped her head back to look up at the blue sky and smiled in the sunlight. I stared, trying to memorize the moment. The way her pale scarf glowed against her bronze skin. The petal pink of her lips. The way her eyes sparkled when she glanced over at me.

My chest ached. Anissa pulled a folded map from her bag and after marking the location, stuffed it back into her bag to extract her camera. I watched her carefully walk between the flowers snapping picture after picture, still talking to me in that language I did not understand. I smiled. Despite the consequences of loving her, I would never regret a single moment.

Suddenly, I felt it again. The need to display. I scanned the clearing. What better moment than now when my beloved was so happy? I stepped fully into the sunlight and Anissa smiled over at me.

I gazed at her, drinking her in, and let my wings unfurl. I so rarely used them to their full extent, that I had forgotten how large they truly were. Easily three times my arm span, they slowly spread above my head and out to my sides.

They were as crimson as the flowers around her, made of an intricate web of deceivingly slender bones and thin membrane. They were a weapon, a tool, and a means of travel. To my kind, impressive wings were everything. My beloved was not of my kind, but I stood tall and proud to display for her. She would not understand the significance of it, but I did.