Chapter 7

In my thirty-five years of existence, I'd never felt so restless, impatient, and frantic. Every fiber of my being thrummed with excitement at the thought of the living, breathing perfection who slept in my guest room.

Farah exceeded my wildest dreams. Beyond the fact that she was breathtakingly gorgeous, funny, and of delightful company, she was proving more open to this relationship than I dared hope for. Considering her past, I'd braced for a very steep hill to climb to get her to relax around me. Granted, she hadn't endured any physical abuse, but the fallout of mental violence was insidious and could be even more damaging as it was harder to detect and treat than an obvious bruise.

I didn't know the details of my mate's ordeal, only what little information was available from the public records surrounding her case. Although her domestic abuse claims against Liam Manning had been dismissed for lack of evidence, a judge had granted her restraining order request. With her escaping more than a year ago, I could only assume she benefitted from a certain amount of therapy, which helped her heal, if only in part. Soon, I hoped, she'd feel comfortable enough to open up to me about it. But I wouldn't pressure her.

Either way, seeing my Farah so open to getting to know me better had me over the moon. My fingers twitched from the lingering wondrous feel of her delicate hand in mine. Kromor's teeth, my head still spun thinking of how she had publicly claimed me! I considered myself a rather confident male, but yesterday made me realize just how badly I longed to be wanted, wholly and proudly, just as I was.

I strained my ear again, trying to catch any sound of my woman stirring. After a long battle to stay awake as late as possible, Farah had finally given up at 8:30 PM. The significant time zone difference had gotten the best of her. She hoped that by going to bed closer to a normal hour here, she would adjust faster to local time.

And here I was pacing around, dying to see her pretty face again and to hear her voice. I'd already prepared everything for a generous breakfast. Despite her slender figure, my woman seemed to have a very healthy appetite, which I intended to keep satisfied at every opportunity.

My hearts leapt in my chest when the long-awaited sound of my Farah waking up finally reached me, muffled though it was. The silly grin that stretched my lips made me feel stupid. And yet, there was no wiping it off. I immediately burst into action, preparing a variety of traditional Zamorian breakfast dishes, from sweet to savory, including fresh fruits, yogurts, and cereals in case she preferred something lighter to start off the day.

I paced myself so that everything would be freshly off the stove by the time she finished showering and dressing. After what felt like an eternity, she came out of her room. My brain went blank, and I nearly swallowed my tongue upon seeing her ethereal beauty.

Once again, Farah had plaited her hair, but this time in two long braids on each side of her head. Golden rings of various sizes adorned their length. At the center of her head, right above her forehead where she split her hair in two halves, she placed a lovely golden clip with some kind of symbol I could not identify embossed on it. She wore a sleeveless black dress with some embroidered golden patterns that matched the decorations in her hair. The short skirt hid nothing of her endless, perfectly sculpted legs. Her adorable toes with painted nails peeked at the front of delicate open sandals with medium heels.

"Good morning, my mate," I breathed out, stunned that I managed to speak any word. "You look breathtaking."

She smiled and demurely lowered her eyes, looking both flattered and shy. By Khivolt, she was unbearably adorable. Everything in me ached to just squish her in a big hug.

"You don't look too shabby yourself," she said as she approached the island where I was starting to plate our food.

I snorted with derision as I glanced down at myself before peering back up at her. "I'm bare-chest with black pants," I replied teasingly. "That hardly qualifies as high fashion."

"No one talked about fashion. I was merely stating how much I appreciated the view," she replied in a similar tone.

My jaw dropped, and she chuckled with a mix of amusement and embarrassment, apparently not having expected herself to speak so boldly. Zamorian males often traipsed around bare-chested. While we had shirts, and occasionally wore them, topless was usually more comfortable with our four arms. Knowing that my woman liked what she saw had my stomach fluttering some more.

"I'm glad you approved then," I said with yet another silly grin.

Kromor's teeth, at this rate, she would think me the village idiot if I kept displaying these kinds of stupid expressions every time something she did or said made me happy.

"I do," she said, her air of timidity creeping back in. "Sorry for sleeping in. But waking up to this wonderful aroma is definitely something I could get used to."

I puffed out my chest as she greedily looked at the food I had prepared. "No need to apologize. I'm glad you were able to get some rest after the long journey here. I hope your bed was comfortable."

"Are you kidding? That bed is freaking amazing! It truly felt like sleeping on a cloud. If not for my stomach clamoring for food, I probably could have slept for a few more days, it was so comfy."

I chuckled and gestured at all the food on the counter before me. "I'm glad to hear it, on both fronts! While I can eat an obscene amount of food, I'm glad you will help me polish this off."

"If it tastes even a tenth as good as it smells, you'll be lucky if I leave any for you," Farah replied teasingly.

She helped me bring the plates to the table, and we settled down to eat. Once again, watching my woman heartily devour the meal I prepared for her filled me with more joy than I could ever put into words. My throat tightened with emotion as I realized this was indeed the beginning of the rest of our lives. And I intended to make each day even better than the previous one.

"I reduced my hours this week at the clinic so that I can be available for you as you settle in and familiarize yourself with your new home," I said after washing down my last mouthful with a sip of tea. "Unfortunately, I have to go to the clinic this morning for an important surgery."

"Oh, that's entirely fine. There'll be plenty of time later for you to show me around," Farah said with understanding.

"It's not for another two hours," I told her reassuringly. "That will give me the time to show you around the clinic. And then Belle will take you shopping for everything you need. I have a tab in most of those stores. So just have your purchases added to my account."

Farah recoiled upon hearing those words and frowned at me. "Why would I charge it to your account? You gave me tons of credits!"

I nodded. "You're correct. However, those credits are for you to use on yourself for personal stuff. Like if you want to go to a cafe, a spa, purchase gifts, or anything else of that nature. It is my duty to provide for all your necessities. That includes groceries, clothes, furniture, and anything else of the sort."

"But… shouldn't I also provide for the household?" she asked.

I gave her a mischievous smile. "Belle says my house is drab and boring. It needs a little bit of spice and color. If you spend your own credits buying decorations for it, I won't be able to return them because I think it's too colorful."

She scrunched her face at me. "If that's a dare, you know I will go all out buying decorations, right?"

"This is your new home, my mate. Do with it as you please," I replied tauntingly. "But just so you know, most stores are automatically set to debit the husband's account, as it is standard here. Be prepared to explain to the merchants why you deem me unworthy to provide for our household."

She gasped. "Oh, my God! I never said that!"

"You didn't, but that's what they'll assume," I deadpanned.

Farah glared at me, not fooled in the least by my overly innocent expression. "I can't believe you're ‘bully spoiling' me," she grumbled.

I burst out laughing. "I am what?"

"You're forcefully spoiling me! That's bullying!" she said before taking another mouthful of food and chewing with pretend anger.

"I wish I could be sorry about that, but I'm not," I replied with an unrepentant grin. "In fact, I'm only getting warmed up."

She shook her head at me as if I was a hopeless case then put down her utensils on her now empty plate with a satisfied sigh.

"I can't even be mad at you because you're such an amazing cook," she said, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Ready to go?" I asked while taking the empty dishes to the sink.

"No, not yet," Farah replied, sounding surprised as she brought a few empty plates for me. "What about your hair?"

I froze, an impossible hope blossoming in my hearts. "My hair?" I echoed.

"Yes," she replied as if I should know exactly what she meant. "Am I not supposed to adorn it for you?"

That stupid grin came back on my face with a vengeance. "You want to?"

"Of course! And last night, I said I would," she replied in a self-evident manner.

"Great! Let me load this up in the dishwasher, and then I'm all yours," I said with a thrill in my voice.

Judging by her expression and the way she giggled, I had to look extremely silly right now. But I couldn't have cared less. My mate was going to adorn my hair!

"Perfect. Let me go get my things," she said.

The excitement in her own voice did the most wondrous thing to me. My Farah wasn't just doing it out of duty, but because she wanted to. I made quick work of rinsing the dishes and stuffing them into the machine before turning back to my woman who had returned with a medium-sized wooden box.

"Where do you want me?" I asked, feeling beyond restless.

She pursed her lips, her beautiful dark-brown eyes flicking between the stools by the island and the chairs by the table.

"Seeing how impossibly tall you are, a chair would be best."

I nodded and immediately complied. My breath caught in my throat when her dainty fingers gently brushed against my naked back when she grabbed my braid. It felt incredibly odd having someone else touch my braid. But it didn't trigger the more submissive behavior expected when my mother would touch it, or the uneasy feeling and semi sense of betrayal it stirred in me when Feidin did so after taking me into her house. This felt right. An incredible sense of peace and of belonging washed over me. It was as intimate a touch as exchanging sensual caresses with our beloved.

"Wow, your hair is really soft," Farah said behind me in a voice filled with awe as she started unbraiding it.

"Thank you, my mate," I said, my voice involuntarily dipping down an octave.

By Khivolt, I could see myself quickly getting addicted to having her playing with my hair. She finished that first task too quickly. I almost whimpered when she let go of it for a brief second. Moments after, the teeth of a comb gently scraped my scalp from the top of my head in a downward movement as Farah detangled my hair.

The loud and powerful purr that tumbled out of my throat and vibrated through my chest startled even me. My mate froze for a split second before bursting out laughing. I couldn't decide if I felt more mortified for making such a spectacle of myself, or more eager for her to do that again. As if she'd heard my silent plea, Farah resumed combing through the long strands, making sure to scrape my scalp with each stroke.

At that point, I didn't even try to rein in the sounds emanating from me. Eyes closed, I almost felt drunk with bliss and the most delightful sense of well-being. Behind me, my female sounded on the verge of choking with laughter.

"Good God, someone sure loves getting their head scratched," she said between two chuckles.

Too busy purring, I merely responded with a grunt. Putting the comb down, my mate sank her fingers through my hair at the top of my head and started massaging both my crown and the clean-shaven sides. This time, I all but went feral.

"Oh, my God! What's happening to you? Are you going to shapeshift into a wild beast?" she asked, still laughing.

I shook my head and replied with another grunt.

"You are so insanely cute! Now I know your weakness. Expect me to shamelessly exploit it in the future," she warned teasingly.

If I weren't so busy flying high, I would have told her to go right ahead and exploit all she liked. For all I cared, she could ask me for the moon in exchange for a head scratch, and I'd fly right up there, pluck it out from the stars, and hand it over to her.

Although she spent a good amount of time scratching and massaging my scalp, it felt way too soon when she finally started plaiting my hair. From time to time, she would pause and rummage in the box she had placed on the table. Curiosity burned in my gut.

A few times too many, I involuntarily caught myself trying to turn my head to get a glimpse. She would systematically turn my head back to the front and sternly tell me to stay put. I tried to comply, but I was just too impatient. Not for the first time since she began taking care of my hair, I berated myself for not encouraging her to do it somewhere with a mirror so that I wouldn't be left in the dark.

On the seventh or eighth time, she flicked the pointy tip of my left ear.

"Ow!" I exclaimed with an exaggerated air of outrage.

It hadn't hurt, but I was in complete bratty kid mode.

"Stop moving your head!" Farah said sternly. "Next time you make me repeat I'll bite your ear off."

"But I want to see!" I said in an overly whiny tone that made her laugh.

Kromor's teeth, how I loved the way she laughed.

"You'll see when it's done. If you didn't fidget so much, I'd be done by now."

"Fine," I grumbled. "And you call me the bully."

She snorted. "You big baby! Just hold a couple more seconds, I'm almost done."

I grunted in a pouty way. While I was truly pouting a little, I was mostly playing to amuse her. I loved her playfulness, which seemed to match my own.

"There!" she said as she ran her palm over my braid. "All done!"

Before I could reach for it, Farah circled around the chair while still holding my braid. She brought it over my shoulder so that I could admire her work. Despite the smug expression on her face, I didn't miss the sliver of tension and apprehension that she felt at how I would respond to her work.

My eyes widened, and a maelstrom of emotions engulfed me as I looked at the elegant but simple design. Just like she did with her own braids, Farah clasped evenly spaced-out golden rings in mine. The width of each band gradually narrowed the lower its position along the length of my braid. The color perfectly matched not only the golden hoop of my earring, but also the adornments in her hair. A single thin golden wire woven into the pattern of the braid gave it a magical edge.

"My mate!" I whispered with awe. "This is beautiful, and it matches yours!"

She puffed out her chest and beamed at me proudly, all tension evaporating from her. "Yes! I figured it would be nice if we coordinated."

"Great choice! I absolutely love it!" I said in all sincerity.

With a will of their own, my primary hands reached for her. I barely caught myself, stopping before I pulled her into an embrace she had not consented to. By the look on her face, she realized what I had almost done. To my utter relief, I didn't perceive any fear or outrage from her. However, I also couldn't tell whether she would have welcomed it. Her expression was too unreadable.

I rose to my feet, and she took a couple of steps back to make room for me. But she did not move away. Was that her way of telling me it would be fine for me to hug her?

She let me hold her hand yesterday.

Did I dare push my luck? Would my eagerness bear fruit or damage the progress we had done so far? When she continued to stare at me with an expectant expression, I decided to go for it. The worst thing that could happen is that she would turn me down. But at least, it would also let her know that I wouldn't initiate physical contact with her without making sure it was consensual.

I cleared my throat. "Would it be acceptable for me to hug you as a thank you?" I asked, annoyed by the nervousness in my voice.

Her unreadable expression shifted into the most adorable timidity. She gave me a small smile and nodded. My hearts leapt in my chest, and my fingers twitched with impatience as I returned her smile. Moving slowly, I carefully placed my primary hands on her hips and gently drew her to me, giving her every opportunity to pull away had she changed her mind.

Thankfully, my mate came willingly into my embrace. I nearly died with bliss when her fragile and delicate body aligned perfectly against mine. She pressed her cheek to my chest and wrapped her slender arms around me. I closed both of my sets of arms around her, cocooning all of her, while making sure not to smother her.

Khivolt take me! I never wanted to let go.

She felt so good, so warm, so perfect right there. This woman was truly made for me. Naturally, that stupid inner part of me had to break the magic of the moment with a growling purr of content. Farah chuckled. To my delight, she didn't pull away, but appeared to tighten her hold around me instead. Obviously, I reciprocated and rested my cheek on top of her head.

I couldn't say how long we remained like that. It could have been seconds or minutes. Either way, it was nowhere near enough. But as I didn't want to abuse this first permission to hug her, I prepared myself to let go. Just as I was about to do it, Farah emitted the most piteous and hilarious wannabe beastly growls I ever heard.

Throwing my head back, I burst out laughing. She lifted her head to peer at me with a mischievous glimmer in her beautiful dark-brown eyes and a broad grin.

"I do not sound like that when I purr," I growled in a falsely outraged tone.

"You totally do! You sound like a grummoll!" she teased before emitting that hilariously high-pitched, failed attempt at a vicious growl.

I laughed some more while playfully glaring at her. "I do not, you evil woman. I sound like a cute pup."

She shook her head vigorously. "More like a rabid dragon."

"I'll take dragon, but not rabid," I countered in a stubborn tone. "I'm cuddly."

Farah snorted. "Okay, fine. I'll grant you cuddly dragon," she said as if making a huge concession.

We both chuckled, eyes locked, and our arms still wrapped around each other. I gave her one last gentle squeeze then released her with much reluctance.

"Come, my mate. I have a tour to give you and a braid to flaunt," I said smugly.

She laughed and cast a proud and possessive look over my braid. No word could express how wonderful that made me feel. To my great chagrin, I led her to our personal shuttle on the main terrace. Her slight frown didn't go unnoticed when I helped her inside the vessel.

"I want nothing more than to strut outside with you," I explained after I settled in the pilot's seat. "I had not expected to be blessed with my hair getting braided. If we walk to the clinic, I will be late for the surgery and won't have time to show you around before Belle arrives."

"Right, that makes sense," she said with a smile.

"But fear not, my mate," I said enthusiastically as I took flight. "I will be doing plenty of flaunting at the assembly later tonight."