The Dracons' Woman (15 page)

“Lariah, when we were young, we, like others of our people, had sexual urges,” Garen told her, keeping his tone casual.  “We satisfied them when the opportunity arose, with those females who make themselves available for such things.  We explored enough to know what our own preferences were.  But that was a very long time ago.  Once Jasani reach maturity, we no longer feel sexual urges until our mating fangs descend, whether it is natural, or stimulated.”

 “When do you reach maturity?” Lariah asked.

“It depends on the clan, but for dracons, about 80 if I remember correctly,” he replied. 

“So, you three have not had sex for over 300 years?” she asked in a shocked whisper.  “That’s just…how did you manage that?”

“As I said, we had no urges.  It is not difficult to refrain from doing something you have no desire to do.” He paused.  “Of course, that changed the moment we scented you,” he added with a grin.

Lariah blushed hotly and turned her face to the window, biting her lip to hide her pleased smile.  She didn’t like knowing that they’d had sex with other women, though she knew that was ridiculous.  But she did like knowing she was the first woman they had wanted in so long.  Still, she wondered, if they wanted her, then why had they stopped acting like it? 

She was so deep in thought that it took her a moment to realize that her view was changing.  She saw a few scattered buildings, some people and other ground-cars instead of the endless rolling hills.  Gradually the signs of people increased until they reached their destination, a small but fully functional town.

Granite Falls was laid out much like the old, wild west Earth towns she’d read about, except that the road was paved rather than dirt, and the buildings were made of stone rather than wood.  One straight road between two long rows of shops, restaurants and other businesses.  Lariah was thrilled to see actual hitching rails here and there, just like in an old fashioned western novel.  Even more exciting was that many of them had horses tied to them. 

Trey drove the ground-car around behind the main street and parked in a lot along with several other vehicles.  As they climbed out of the ground-car, all three brothers looked at each other over Lariah’s head and shrugged.  They still didn’t know why she had been upset before they left the house, but right now her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright, and her step bouncy.  She was happy and that was enough for them.  Garen put his arm around Lariah’s shoulders and tucked her closer to his side as Val and Trey took up their positions on either side of him, half a step back.  They were all more vigilant than usual with Lariah to watch over and protect, but at the same time, they were all more relaxed as well.  Garen was relieved to note that, while most of the townspeople seemed to find a reason to step outside to get a look at Lariah, they did it in such a polite, unobtrusive way that she didn’t appear to notice it. 

The first shop they went into was for riding apparel and equipment for Lariah.  She had been far more excited about learning to ride a horse than she had been over the idea of purchasing new clothes.  They hoped that beginning here would make her happy enough that she wouldn’t mind shopping for clothes afterward.

Lariah headed for the jeans first, and expressed surprise at how soft they were.  She reached out shyly and ran her hand along Garen’s hip, testing the feel of his jeans, which, she pointed out, felt the same as the ones she was wearing.  Val, Garen and Trey were surprised to learn that the jeans she wore were designed to be worn by a female.  That made no sense to them.  Denim was fine for males, but such heavy, coarse fabric had no place on a woman’s body, and they said so.  Lariah merely smiled at them, then selected a few pair to try on.  Once she settled on a size and style that she liked, she selected three pair and moved on to shirts. 

Garen gestured to Val and Trey.  By the time they were done, there were a dozen pairs of soft, silky jeans in a rainbow of colors stacked on the counter.  They followed the same procedure for shirts, boots, hats and riding gloves, though Lariah didn’t notice.  That might have been because Garen, having no desire to argue with her, had asked the clerk to keep the extra stacks of clothing out of sight.  Trey paid for their purchases while Val made arrangements to have everything delivered to the ranch. 

They left the store and turned up the street, their next destination a ladies clothing store a few doors away.  Lariah slowed her steps as they passed a shop that sold a wide variety of papers and writing implements, as well as a host of other items.  She stopped and stared at a display of over-sized books in the shop window.  Some of the books were propped open, revealing large, detailed images of a wide variety of animals and plants.  The books were all bound in dark green leather, with gold lettering on the covers and spines.  Garen saw half a dozen volumes propped open, though there were several more leaning against the back wall of the display with their covers closed.  Each book appeared to focus on a different aspect of Jasan, from insects to birds, fish to mammals, oceans to mountains.  He watched Lariah as she gazed at the display for long moments, then sighed and turned away.  “Where next?” she asked, a little too brightly.

 “Was there something in that store you wanted?” Garen asked. 

“Nope, just looking,” she said. 

Garen decided to let it go.  For now.  “Very well,” he said easily.  “Next stop, right up here.”

Lariah wasn’t sure what she expected to find in a ladies clothing store in a small town on Jasan but what she found made her jaw drop.  The clothes were nothing at all like she was used to seeing on Earth.  No shiny, neon bright, skin tight, cut down-to-there and up-to-here clothes in this store.  Instead, there were racks and racks of beautiful, feminine clothes in soft, flowing fabrics.  There were slacks and blouses, skirts and dresses, all cut to accentuate rather than reveal.  There were also pajamas, nightgowns, and lingerie unlike anything she had ever seen.  Everything she tried on fit comfortably and smoothly with no binding or pinching or poking.  Even the bras were so silky soft and lightweight she couldn’t imagine they offered much in the way of support. She stroked the ultra soft fabric with one finger, but passed it by regretfully.  She was full breasted enough to need some support and that pretty little thing wasn’t going to do it.  But, at the clerk’s urging she tried one on and was amazed at the result.  To her surprise and delight it did support her.  Quite well in fact.  She wasn’t sure how, but it did.  And she barely even felt the thing. 

Lariah truly did not see a single thing she didn’t like, and that was a new experience for her.  Usually she hated shopping because she rarely found anything she did like.   Now she was having a hard time paring her selections down to what she considered to be reasonably extravagant.  She knew she was getting a lot but, she told herself, she truly needed everything.  Still, she had to make some hard choices. 

When she was finished, the clerk guided her back to the shoe department where, once again, she was amazed.  There were sexy heels, casual walking shoes, dressy pumps and delicate sandals, all in beautiful colors and fabrics.  Everything she saw was designed to be flattering, fit comfortably, and look pretty.  She didn’t see a single pair of six inch spike heeled, thigh high boots in the place.  Nor did she see anything that looked matronly or old-fashioned.  This store catered to young, fashionable women who wanted to look and feel pretty and feminine. 

 Lariah wondered briefly how well this store would do on Earth, and admitted to herself that it probably wouldn’t do well at all.  She would have purchased clothes in it, but she didn’t think there were too many other women like herself on Earth.  And those that were like her wouldn’t want to admit it any more than she had.  On Earth, women were encouraged to be strong, bright, and bold.  She suddenly realized that they were a lot like the clothes they wore; artificial, and uncomfortable.  Here, on Jasan, women were encouraged to simply be women.  Naturally feminine, like the clothes in this store.  Which did not mean stupid or childish.  The guys didn’t treat her like she didn’t have a brain in her head.  True, they tended to carry her around a lot, but that was not because they didn’t think she could walk.  It was because they wanted to touch her and to be close to her.  They liked her femininity and, she guessed shrewdly, the sharp contrast between that and their own hard masculinity.

Still deep in thought, Lariah walked back toward the front of the store where she had last seen the guys.  She stepped around a rack of handbags and gaped at the pile...no, make that mountain…of items on the counter.  She even spotted several items that she had put back on the rack, reluctantly, yes, but still….

She glared at Garen, but he just smiled, a very smug smile, and dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head.  She rolled her eyes and turned her glare on Val.  He pretended not to see her as he suddenly became very busy trying to find something in his wallet.  Hmmph.  She looked around for Trey, felt a sense of unease when she didn’t see him immediately, then felt him coming up behind her.  She spun around and narrowed her eyes on him.  The glare wasn’t working.  Maybe narrowed eyes would be more effective.

“We told you that we wanted to do some shopping for you, little love,” Trey said with a chuckle.  “I think we were very generous to let you spoil some of our fun and shop yourself, so there is no reason for you to be all narrow eyed at us.” 

“I can’t believe you actually said that like it makes sense,” she said with a reluctant grin.

Trey stepped closer and put his arms around her, tugging her gently until she was pressed against him.  “Let us spoil you a bit,” he said softly.  “We have never had a woman of our own before, and this is just pure fun for us.”

Lariah tilted her head back and searched his face for signs that he was teasing, but he looked serious.  “Is that what I am?” she asked in a whisper.  “Your woman?”

“Ah, little love,” he said, an expression of regret in his deep, blue-green eyes.  “Trust me on this, you are our woman.” 

Lariah could not see disgust or disappointment in his eyes when he looked at her.  She wanted to ask about the regret, but she was afraid of what his answer would be.  Instead, she tipped her face up and pressed a soft kiss into his throat. 

He squeezed her gently before turning her in his arms and urging her forward, next to Garen.  With another kiss on the forehead, he stepped to the counter to help Val finish arranging payment and delivery for the outrageously huge amount of clothing they were buying for her.  She wished she’d been brave enough to ask Trey why he would say she was their woman when they didn’t want her sexually.  But the moment had passed.

Val turned away from the counter in time to see Lariah’s face go from smiling and happy to pale and strained in the blink of an eye.  He hurried forward, reaching out to touch her forehead lightly.  “Lariah, what’s the matter?” he asked urgently, sensing Trey hurrying up behind him.  He frowned when she didn’t respond to him, then felt his heart begin to race as her eyes lost focus and she suddenly bent over at the waist, her arms folded tightly against her stomach.  Her soft whimper of pain had him ready to rend and tear whatever was hurting her, but there was nothing to fight.   Her slender body jerked hard, for all the world as though someone had struck her.  He saw her leg begin to crumple beneath her and he swept her into his arms before she could fall to the floor.  Garen and Trey crowded close, their eyes beginning to glow just as he knew his own were.  He was fairly certain that they were all going to lose control soon if they couldn’t figure out what was happening to Lariah, and find a way to stop it. 

Lariah first felt the pain, so sudden, so intense that it overwhelmed her, causing her to react as though the pain were her own, even though a part of her mind knew that it wasn’t.  She struggled against it, fighting to keep it from pushing her down into the dark, deep pit of her nightmares.  She remembered pain like this.  Pain worse than this.  She reminded herself that she could fight, that she had fought before, and won.  She forced herself to focus and began to push the pain into a corner of her mind. 

Then the despair hit her.  She fought harder, unwilling to relive her own despair, frightened of that in a way that the pain had not frightened her, in a way that mere physical pain could never frighten her.  But now she was losing the battle.  The pain and despair combined with the fear were too much.  Together they sent her tumbling toward that black pit, though she desperately tried to pull herself back.  For a moment, she believed she was lost. 

Then came the surrender.  As heartbreaking as it was, she was thankful for it because
she
had never surrendered.  She had been determined that she would rather die than surrender.  The surrender provided her with the sure and certain knowledge that what she was feeling was not hers, giving her the strength she needed to pull herself back from the abyss.  At the same time, she caught and held onto the thread of surrender, following it with her mind, letting instinct guide her as this was like nothing she had ever done before. 

She held on tight, following the thread out of the store, up the street, back and back until she reached its source.  What she found there enraged her.

Her eyes snapped open and she was back in both her own body and her own mind, being held firmly in Val’s arms. 

“Let me down,” she demanded. 

Val hesitated, his face lined with worry.  “Lariah...” he began. 

Lariah began to struggle violently, twisting and turning in his arms.  She understood he was worried but this was too important, too urgent.  Time was passing and she needed to hurry.