Page 8 of Cheating Fate

“Thank you,” I said before giving him and not so subtle once over. “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

And he truly was. Unlike Veredians and Korletheans—who tended to be lithe—Braxians were massive males. Despite being a hybrid, Gavin could almost pass for a pureblood. The skin-tight, short-sleeved, dark-gray shirt he wore hugged each of his well-defined, bulging muscles. His biceps alone looked almost bigger than my head. And yet, his body was harmonious and well proportioned, not bulky in that sometimes-creepy way professional bodybuilders became. His long, wavy, raven hair tumbled right below his clavicles, making my fingers itch to sink into it.

But it was his face that fascinated me the most.

Although he had the typical traits of the Braxians, with a strong jaw, a broad, flat nose, and a prominent forehead with a strong brow, he didn’t have the brutish features of his people. All of these attributes were significantly dimmed in a more delicate version, no doubt inherited from his breathtakingly beautiful mother. His lips were sinfully plump, and his eyes were mesmerizing. I had never seen that shade of amber before. His mother had passed it on to him, but Gavin’s irises boasted an even paler shade, almost like gold.

He snorted, and the strangest expression flitted over his face, quickly hidden. That piqued my curiosity.

“You’re sweet, but you don’t have to say that. Gorgeous is not a word that will ever be associated with Braxians,” he said in a gently chastising tone.

I frowned. “Says who? One thing about me is that I don’t lie to flatter or stroke people’s egos. If I say it, then I mean it. You are gorgeous. Braxians may not fit within the traditional standards of beauty, that doesn’t make them ugly. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. Some people cannot see beyond their own canons, but I can.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said sheepishly.

I smiled. “You didn’t. Considering you’ve probably spent your entire life hearing people disparaging Braxians’ appearance, you have every reason to expect me to feel the same way. It always cracks me up to see people tremble before Uncle Ravik and Grappa Krygor. Sure, they have the ultra-rough features of the purest blood among your people, but I find them stunning. There’s something wild, untamed, and almost feral about them that I find appealing. Whereas you have that same intensity, like a sleeping volcano wrapped in a graceful beauty that is both thrilling and mesmerizing.”

The powerful emotion that flitted over his face wrecked me. Each of my words had been sincere, and he clearly sensed it. He lifted his right hand as if to brush his fingertips against his flat nose before catching himself and swiftly lowering it with an almost guilty expression. I barely managed to repress the shock I felt as sudden understanding hit me.

He’s self-conscious about his nose!

It shouldn’t have blown me away this much. Over the years, Aunt Mercy gave subtle hints about how sensitive Braxians were about the extensive mockery—often downright cruelty—they received over that physical trait. However, considering how popular and successful he was, not to mention his heroic accomplishments, I actually dreaded he might be overconfident and borderline arrogant.

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Gavin replied timidly.

“I meant every word.”

His face softened, and the tenderness in his eyes made me melt from the inside out. “I know, Zhara. And that’s what makes it even more special to me.”

I smiled and absent-mindedly ran my hand over my long braid, bringing it in front of my chest. As was the case for many of my Veredian Sisters, that gesture gave me comfort.

His golden eyes flicked to my braid. They widened in shock. “Is that…?”

I glanced down at my braid, confused, before realizing what he’d been staring at. It was the yellowish-brown silk ribbon with green specks he’d sent me thirteen years ago as part of his very first gift to me. He’d spent his allowance to have it custom made to match the color of my eyes.

I grinned and nodded proudly. “It is.”

“I can’t believe you still have it!” he exclaimed, both stunned and happy.

“Of course I do!” I replied, slightly offended. “I have kept every single one of the gifts you ever sent me. Well, except the ones I stuffed my face with.”

He snorted and smiled back before reaching for something below his collar. It was my turn to stare wide-eyed as he pulled the delicate gold chain around his neck revealing the medallion I designed and had custom made for his sixteenth birthday. It was a stylized symbol merging the Veredian phoenix and the Braxian all-seeing eye. He had added a hoop to it to wear it as a necklace.

“It never leaves me,” he said in a soft voice. “This way, you’re always with me.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and my throat constricted. “You don’t know how badly I want to hug you right now,” I said with a slightly shaky voice.

His smile broadened. “It can’t be more than I personally do. But soon, I’ll finally get to give you that teddy bear hug you’ve been asking for. Just so you know, I’ve been practicing with a body pillow.”

I burst out laughing, my overactive imagination trying to picture that mountain of muscle delicately hugging a body pillow with my face painted on it.

“Now I’m even more impatient to try it first-hand. How long until you get here?” I asked.

He scrunched his face and glanced at the top right corner of his screen, likely to look at some sort of journey tracker.

“Sadly, much longer than I wished. We still have a little over fourteen hours to go,” he said dejectedly. “We should reach Veredia around lunchtime tomorrow.”

“Perfect!” I exclaimed, surprising him. “Lunchtime means my father won’t have any excuse to keep me from being present at your arrival. We have a bunch of drills and training with the Sentinels, but as he’s very picky about discipline, he always makes sure we get to go to lunch on time.”