Chapter 2
Zharina
My stomach fluttered with nerves as I once more examined myself from head to toe in the mirror. I changed outfits at least fifteen times in the past hour and tortured my hair to oblivion and back trying to settle on the perfect look.
And yet, this would be the real first impression.
Videos could be patched and tweaked until they were perfect.
But with a live chat, there would be no hiding the brain farts, nervous babbling, and any other silly reaction one could have.
What if I froze and just stared at him like an idiot, my mouth gaping like a freaking wormhole?
Enough! Stop jinxing yourself!
Sometimes, I could be my own worst enemy.
People always saw me as the strong, badass, no nonsense battle maiden.
They’d be shocked to discover the extent of the insecurities that plagued me.
Often, I wished I could just drop the mask and show my vulnerabilities.
But too many people—entire worlds even—counted on us to see them through the bloodiest war in generations.
Strangely enough, as crushing as that burden felt at times, the thought that Gavin might be disappointed with me terrified me even more.
I cast another look at my reflection. It shamed me that, to this day, I remained irrationally self-conscious about my skin color.
As much as I loved my Xelixian heritage, like every other Titan, I considered myself first and foremost a Veredian.
But Veredians were brown-skinned.
Since our females began mating with Xelixians, their offspring displayed dominant Veredian features.
This included our skin color, breed spots along the sides of our necks, arms, and legs, and our round-edged ears similar to those of a human.
After hundreds of births, only five of us had taken the silver-gray complexion of our fathers.
Normally, the only Xelixian traits inherited by the hybrids were the chevron-shaped ridges on our foreheads, our oversized irises, and for some, the unusual eye color of our sires.
Vahleryon got his dark purple eyes from our Dad, whereas Rhadames got our Papa’s electric blue eyes.
I hated that such superficial concerns continued to plague me.
It felt disrespectful to my sire, but I couldn’t help it.
Deep down, I just wanted to fit with the others.
That stupid reaction made even less sense that no one but me even seemed to notice it.
Nobody ever gave my skin a second thought. We truly were our worst critic.
A startled yelp escaped me when the timer on my bracer went off. I’d set an alarm five minutes before the scheduled call to be sure I would be ready to receive it in case I got distracted somehow.
I ran a nervous hand over the short skirt of the sleeveless black dress I had settled on, smoothing the non-existent creases on it.
As with every Veredian of the Warrior breed like me, I had insanely long hair down to my ankles, which served as a lethal weapon once covered in celesium armor.
I had gone back and forth between letting it loose or plating it in the traditional single braid.
As I didn’t want to end up getting tangled in it if I fidgeted too much during the call, I chose the safer approach of the braid bound with a ribbon at the nape.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I made my way to the sitting area of my room. Like every bedroom in my parents’ mansion, it was spacious with a massive walk-in closet, my personal hygiene room, a comfortable sitting area, and my own private balcony, which faced the eastern side of the house.
I settled on the three-cushion couch and turned on the giant screen located above the fireplace.
Normally, I would slouch on it barefoot, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt.
Pictures of Gavin and I cuddling on this couch while enjoying a movie flashed before my mind’s eye, stirring a violent longing.
I so often dreamt of romantic moments like that the thought we were only hours away from it finally happening felt unreal to me.
Seconds later, a discreet chiming sound accompanied the message on the giant screen indicating an incoming call.
My heart leapt into my throat. Feeling both hot and cold, a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach, I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly to get my emotions under control before accepting the call.
The beloved face of my Gavin immediately filled the screen.
I felt faint. He was so beautiful, so perfect.
And the look of wonder, of complete awe and happiness on his face kicked to the curb any nervousness and insecurity that had been gnawing at me.
This was my soulmate. Whatever hesitation or misgivings might have lingered vanished the moment our gaze is locked.
“Gavin,” I whispered, my voice a little shaky.
“My Zhara,” he replied, his deep, rumbling voice filled with a similar depth of emotions.
Its sound sent a powerful shiver down my spine, and my skin erupted in goosebumps. I had heard him speak countless times before in the recorded videos he sent me over the years. But this hit differently.
“At long last, we finally get to speak face to face,” he continued.
The sliver of shyness—maybe even nervousness—that emanated from him did the weirdest thing to me. It further soothed me to know we were in the same boat.
“I’m still pinching myself,” I said with a nervous giggle, immediately flinching inwardly for it.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful! I knew that stunning smile would do me in,” he blurted out, his greige skin immediately darkening with embarrassment over his mouth running away with him.
A timid chuckle escaped me, and a warm feeling spread through me. I couldn’t stop the stupid grin on my face.
“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…?”