My Taboo Harem!

Delilah lifted her face. For a moment, she only looked at him. The question touched something tender.

The waiting had not been easy:

Watching others move closer to him and enjoy themselves and he claimed, made love with him and conquered their insides, watching the circle around him grow, knowing her place was both near and not yet fully declared, wanting him and still remaining patient because their path had its own complications, its own careful timing, its own emotional landmines left by family, blood, pride, history and the fact that she wasn’t entirely ready after that time in her bedroom when Sienna found them.

She had told herself she could endure without rushing anything; she had endured and he had with her.

But tonight... Tonight made waiting feel seen.

Delilah nodded slowly. "More than enough."

Phei’s thumb stroked her waist. The touch was gentle, reverent, filled with the quiet love of a man who had waited just as long and was now determined to make every second count.

"Are you sure?"

She gave him a small, trembling smile. "I could trade another month of waiting just to have an evening like this, Phei..."

His gaze softened.

"Any woman would," she added.

Phei looked almost pained by the honesty.

Then he gently pulled away.

Delilah’s brows drew together at once, but before she could ask what was wrong, Phei shifted off the couch and lowered himself before her:

To one knee.

Delilah froze and the world narrowed.

The dome, the lights, the snowflakes, the table, the wine, the hidden second floor, the dying sunset outside, all of it blurred around the sight of Phei kneeling before her with her hand in his.

Her heart stopped behaving entirely. "Phei..."

He lifted her hand again, his fingers warm around hers. "Delilah Ryujin Tiamat," he said, and the way he spoke her name was softer than the candles, steadier than the dome, more devastating than every light he had created.

"I know you have waited."

Her lips parted.

"I know this has not been simple. Not for you. Not for me; not with everything between us, around us, behind us." His thumb brushed over her fingers. "And maybe there are women who would throw themselves at me without me asking. Maybe there are women who think being close to me is enough. But you deserve more than being assumed. You deserve more than being placed quietly in my life as if your heart does not need to hear me choose you."

Delilah’s eyes filled. The long strapless dress rose and fell with her quickening breaths, the fabric catching the light as emotion swelled curve of her chest.

Phei kissed the back of her hand slowly and reverently.

"I want you," he said. "Not as something unclear, not as someone waiting in the corner of my life. Not as someone I will one day get around to naming properly. I want you beside me. I want you in my family I am creating for all of us, in my chaos, in every stupid, dangerous, beautiful part of what my life is becoming."

Her free hand rose to her mouth.

The tears came before she could stop them.

Phei’s voice lowered. "So I am asking you properly."

He looked up at her from one knee, beautiful enough to make the scene feel unreal, humble enough to make it hurt.

"Would you officially be my woman, Delilah?"

Her breath broke. There he was. Phei Ryujin Tiamat. The Young Dragon. A boy women wanted, men envied, families feared, and fate kept throwing impossible burdens at like it had nothing better to do with its miserable schedule.

On his knees. Asking her. Not taking. Not assuming. Not letting the obvious speak for them. Asking.

Delilah had thrown herself toward him in her heartfelt confession long ago; perhaps even openly in ways pride would have preferred to revise later. She had wanted him and she’d hurt quietly because of the things she’d done to him. And still he was here, kneeling, asking her as if her answer was something precious enough to be received, not expected.

She nodded. Then nodded again, faster, because words had temporarily fled the country.

"Yes," she whispered.

Phei’s eyes brightened with such naked joy that she almost cried harder. "Yes?" he asked, as if the first answer had not been enough to make his whole face change.

Delilah laughed through her tears. "Yes, Phei."

He rose just enough to pull her into his arms with infinite care, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other wrapped securely around her waist, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in his world. She went to him immediately, folding against him as he held her tightly.

His face pressed into her hair, and she could feel the joy in him, feel it in the way his arms trembled faintly around her before he steadied himself.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Delilah clutched him tighter. "Why are you thanking me?"

"Because you said yes."

"As if I could say no."

"You could."

She pulled back enough to look at him. "You built me a stairway to heaven and asked me like that. No woman with a functioning heart could say no."

Phei smiled then his smile faded when he saw her tears.

He lifted both hands and carefully wiped beneath her eyes with his thumbs, his touch so gentle it made fresh tears threaten to fall. The care in his eyes was unmistakable — love so deep it hurt to witness.

"You should not cry," he said softly. "It breaks my heart."

Delilah laughed, breathless and wet-eyed. "Good."

His brows lifted. "Good?"

"Yes." She sniffed delicately, though there was nothing delicate about the emotion in her voice. "I am making sure you remember for eternity that you should only make me happy, to make up for the tears of this day."

Phei stared at her. Then smiled. "It is working."

"It should."

"It is very effective emotional blackmail."

"I learned from the best."

"Maddie?"

"Possibly."

"My woman is corrupting everyone."

"She is efficient."

Phei laughed, and the sound warmed the whole dome.

Then, still on one knee before her, he reached into his pocket. Delilah went still again.

"What are you doing?"

"Making the blackmail more expensive."

That startled a laugh out of her.

Phei pulled out a small box. It was elegant, dark, understated, the kind of box that did not need to scream value because screaming was for cheap things and desperate politicians. He opened it slowly.

Inside lay a bracelet. Delilah’s breath caught.

Red diamonds circled the entire piece, each stone round, brilliant and deep as crystallized blood under candlelight. They were not merely red though.

They held fire inside them, a dark royal crimson that shifted with every flicker of the black-white flames. The stones were set along a slim chain that looked impossibly delicate, yet carried the quiet weight of something made from a material far rarer than gold.

At both ends, cognac-gold finishings gleamed warmly, their shade matching her eyes so perfectly that Delilah knew at once it had not been accidental.

(IMADE ADDED)

Nothing tonight had been accidental.

Phei lifted the bracelet carefully. "May I?"

Delilah nodded too fast and immediately extended her right hand.

Phei smiled at her eagerness, but said nothing.

Wise man.

Occasionally.

He fastened the bracelet around her wrist. It fit perfectly. Of course it did.

The red diamonds settled against her skin like they had been waiting for her, catching the dome lights and scattering crimson sparks over her hand. The cognac-gold finishing warmed beneath the candlelight, matching the amber in her eyes, the lights above, the sunset outside, the whole evening wrapped around her like a declaration.

Delilah stared at it then at Phei and she stopped waiting.

She leaned forward and kissed him with everything she had been holding back. Both her hands went around his neck at once, the bracelet cold and brilliant against his skin. The long strapless dress shifted with her movement, the fabric sliding against her body as she climbed into his lap, legs finding their way around his waist.

Phei caught her instinctively, one strong arm at her back, the other cradling her thigh through the dress, holding her steady as she kissed him like yes had not been enough, like the bracelet had not been enough, like all the waiting had finally become motion and she needed him to feel every answer her heart had been carrying.

Her mouth opened against his. Her tongue found his.

Phei’s arms tightened around her with fierce tenderness, one hand sliding up her bare back to rest between her shoulder blades, the other holding her close as if he never wanted to let go. He kissed her back with the same depth, the same love, pouring weeks of restrained longing into every slow, reverent stroke of his tongue against hers.

Outside, the black-white snowflakes lit one by one beneath the romantic lamps.

Inside the dome, beneath a ceiling of stars made to match her eyes, Delilah kissed the man who had knelt for her.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms with the red diamonds glittering against her skin and the strapless dress pressed warmly between them, she knew she would never have to wait again.

For once, the waiting did not hurt.

It had become part of the story.