The Dracons' Woman: Book 1 of the Soul-Linked Saga Page 6

  “Oh,” Val said. “Sounds like the news is out that we have found our Arima.”

  Garen nodded. “Yes, and every unmated male-set on the planet has advice on how we should handle her.”

  Trey growled, but Garen waved his hand at him. “It is not what you think Trey,” he said. “I too was furious at first. But after listening to a few of the messages, I realized that their concerns are, in truth, founded.”

  “Please explain,” Trey said, trying hard not to snap at his older brother.

  “It is known that Lariah is both our Arima, and human,” Garen replied. “The hope of our people is that where there is one such female, others may also be found. But, as she is human, there is a debate over how the situation should be handled and the possible consequences if mistakes or errors are made.”

  Trey nodded. “I understand,” he said finally. “If we were the ones standing on the outside, we would want those involved to go slowly and carefully. Too much is at stake.”

  “At the same time, Lariah is a person,” Val said. “While I agree that we must go slowly and carefully, I also admit that my desire to do so is based more on my concern for her than for anyone else.”

  Garen nodded in agreement. “Yes, I feel the same. Lariah is, herself, of the utmost importance to me. But, at the same time, I understand the concerns of the others. Our race has waited three thousand years for this moment. We cannot deny them their voice.”

  “No, we cannot,” Trey agreed. “But our first duty is to our Arima.”

  “Agreed,” Garen said at once. “As I told Riata, we will wait until more is known before changing her in any way. That is the only promise I am willing to make at this time.”

  “In the meantime, we need to begin telling her about ourselves, and our history,” Val said.

  Trey frowned. “So soon?” he asked. “What if she reacts badly? We have seen and heard enough to know that most human women have a very difficult time accepting that information.”

  Garen nodded. “True enough,” he agreed. “But, it has to be done. We need to begin soon. If she reacts badly, then we will have that much more time to help her come to terms with it all.”

  Trey sighed. “Yes, I agree as well,” he said finally. He glanced at the vid screen and noted that several hundred more messages had arrived while they were talking. “What are you going to do about this?” he asked, gesturing toward the vid screen.

  Garen shrugged. “I have already contacted the council and requested that they assign someone to respond to the messages on our behalf. I indicated that our time would be better spent with our Arima. They agreed.” Garen hesitated, set his jaw and continued. “They also felt it necessary to warn us against pressing Lariah into a sexual relationship too quickly.”

  Val and Trey stared at him, stunned not only by the council’s presumption in commenting on such a personal matter, but also by Garen’s apparent acceptance of it. Garen met their surprised gazes with one of mixed regret and determination.

  “Our request to the council that Riata be fully informed of our history and brought in to work with the Elders to aid us in this matter has been granted. When asked, Riata told them what she told us about Lariah’s injuries. They are concerned that Lariah has not yet recovered from her trauma, and that placing pressure on her of any kind would be unwise.”

  Garen’s face hardened. “I must agree with them in this. We allowed our lust and our pheromones to rule our actions. I know that Lariah was neither afraid nor unwilling. Nevertheless, we did not put our Arima’s health and well being first, and in that, we failed her.”

  Val and Trey both hung their heads. It had been less than 24 hours since they had been graced with the miracle of Lariah, and already they had proved themselves unworthy of her.

  “I know how you feel,” Garen said. “I too feel that way. In our defense, it has been centuries since any of us have felt physical desire, and she is so beautiful, so perfect for us sexually, and we were so unprepared to see her…” Garen trailed off. Just thinking of his first sight of her standing in the bathtub that morning made him so hard he hurt. He cleared his throat and forced his thoughts back to the moment. “What is done is done, and I do not believe that we caused her harm. However, we need to be more careful from now on, and remember to put her first, not ourselves.”

  Val and Trey nodded in agreement as they raised their heads and straightened their shoulders. It helped to remember that Lariah had greatly enjoyed their encounter that morning, though that did not make either of them feel excused from what they had done.

  Garen flipped a switch, turning the vid screen off. Then the three of them sat and began planning how best to proceed with their Arima, and the many problems that they were now faced with.

  Lariah awoke feeling more rested than she had in weeks, the light coming in through the windows indicating that it was late in the afternoon. She had slept the day away. She got out of bed and went into the bathroom, feeling her face heat as she thought of what she had done right there in that spot just that morning. She shivered a bit at the memory. Who knew such feelings were even possible? She had no idea how many times she had climaxed, or even how many times each of the Dracon brothers had licked her…well…done what they had done. She blushed just thinking about it.

  She immediately chastised herself. “Honestly Lariah,” she told herself sternly, “you are a grown woman, not a child. You can at least think the word ‘pussy’ even if you can’t say it out loud.”

  Shaking her head at herself she walked past the tub and stepped into the shower. As she stood beneath the spray, letting the delightfully hot water run over her body, she thought more about what had happened that morning, and how she felt about it.

  She had always fantasized about visiting Jasan and having three men of her own. It wasn’t something she had shared with anyone before, but it wasn’t really a taboo either. There were a lot of different planets, a lot of different peoples with different customs. Three men with one woman wasn’t really all that far out there. But the other fantasy she had always had, the one where she was submissive with three men…ah…now that was taboo. At least, for a woman of 26th Century Earth it was taboo. She had never dared tell anyone that particular fantasy.

  Somehow though, even knowing it was taboo, it had always seemed right to her. This morning it had certainly felt right. Garen, Val and Trey had seemed excited by her reactions to them. Reactions that she had not expected of herself. But she had enjoyed them. And if that was wrong, well, too bad. One thing she had learned the hard way was that her life could be ended at any time. The worst part of having to face that had been having to face her long list of regrets. Regret that she had never fallen in love, that she would never have children and a family of her own. Regret that she had lived her life in books and dreams, never daring to reach out and try to make them real. Always afraid of what others might think of her, whether or not they would approve of her. Now she knew just how quickly her life could be taken from her, and once it was gone, there was no going back. She was going to enjoy whatever life handed her while she still could. And if others didn’t like it, well, they had their own lives to live. This one was hers and she needed to live it to please herself.

  That decision made, she shampooed her hair, rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. She took her time combing out her hair, glad that she didn’t have to put that horrid wig back on again. She rummaged through her bag, wrinkling her nose at the oversized jeans and shirts she had been wearing as a sort of disguise. She didn’t want to wear them again, but she didn’t have much else to choose from. Finally she pulled on a soft gray t-shirt and matching shorts that she usually slept in. They weren’t really pajamas; she just used them for sleeping since she didn’t have any pajamas. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. The clothes weren’t exactly flattering, but they were better than the alternative. They would just have to do.

  She left the bathroom and crossed the bedroom to the door, pausing to screw up her c
ourage. Once more she chastised herself. All three men had seen her naked for goodness sake. They had…well…she hesitated for a moment, then mentally braced herself. “They licked my pussy.” There, she thought. She had, at least, thought it to herself. She didn’t think she could actually say it out loud yet, but she had to start somewhere.

  In the end, it was the delicious aroma of food wafting through the house that drew her through the door and down the hall, her stomach rumbling with hunger. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten, but she knew it had been at least one day, probably two.

  She reached the end of the hallway and found herself in a gigantic living room. The furniture was large and cushy, shelves of what appeared to be real books lined the walls, and small tables were set near the sofas and chairs, each with its own lamp, several of them glowing with soft, warm light.

  She saw a couple of halls leading out of the room to her right and a door straight ahead, but she turned left toward the smell of food and the low murmur of voices. The voices stopped the second she stepped through the doorway into another large room. This was a dining room and, like the other rooms she had seen so far, it was quite large with high ceilings and larger than usual furniture suited to the larger than usual men who lived here.

  Val and Garen were placing dishes on the table as Trey stepped out of the kitchen carrying a large steaming platter of thick steaks. He placed the platter in the middle of the table and turned to her.

  “We were just about to come and get you,” he said as he walked toward her and casually bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Hungry?” he asked.

  She nodded her head emphatically, her skin tingling lightly where he had kissed her. “Very hungry,” she replied, her stomach picking that moment to rumble loudly.

  “How long since you have eaten?” he asked as he placed a hand lightly on her back and guided her to a chair at the table.

  Lariah shrugged as she took her seat. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “A day or so I guess.”

  The effect her words had on the men was immediate. They all stilled, their eyes meeting over her head. “We must apologize to you sharali”, Garen said. “We should have fed you long before now. We are not doing a very good job of caring for you.”

  Lariah frowned. “I am an adult,” she said finally, “I take care of myself. And I am not your job.”

  It was Garen’s turn to frown, but Lariah did not want to argue so she decided to change the subject. She had been meaning to ask a question anyway, and this seemed like a good time to do it.

  “What does sharali mean,” she asked curiously. “You keep calling me that.”

  Garen’s frown disappeared, replaced with one of those warm smiles that lit up his face and made her breath catch in her throat. “It means precious one,” he replied.

  “Oh,” she replied in a small voice, dropping her eyes to the plate in front of her. It was the first time anyone had used an endearment to her since her mother had died, and it both surprised and touched her. She could feel all three men staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Well, she thought, they were just going to have to wonder because, honestly, she didn’t know herself how she felt about it.

  After a long silence Garen reached for her plate and carefully selected a steak for her from the big platter. The uncomfortable moment past, she raised her eyes and watched as Garen handed her plate to Val. With equal care, Val placed what she guessed might be vegetables on her plate. Trey took the plate and scooped up a healthy serving of an unfamiliar dish before setting it back on the table before her. Lariah waited as the men served themselves, her stomach rumbling again as the delicious aromas rose from her plate. Some of the food was unfamiliar, but it smelled heavenly.

  “Eat,” Garen urged as he took a seat and picked up his own eating utensils. Lariah didn’t need to be told twice. She picked up the slightly odd two tined fork and dug in. She was happy to discover that the food tasted as good as it smelled. The vegetables tasted like carrots, though they were blue instead of orange, and the hot dish tasted like potatoes and cheese, though it was a soft, pastel green. The steak was perfect, and tasted better than any she had ever had.

  For a little while they all sat at the table, eating quietly. Garen decided it was a good time to broach a subject that might be upsetting, but needed to be discussed.

  “Lariah,” he began, keeping his tone conversational, “what actually happened at the spaceport yesterday? Did you know that security guard, or why he tried to abduct you?”

  Lariah shrugged, but didn’t look unduly upset by the question. “No,” she replied easily, “he never said a word to me, and I’d never seen him before in my life.”

  Garen frowned. “It seems strange that he didn’t say anything to you. What did he do, exactly?”

  “He walked straight toward me, staring at me the whole time. That seemed odd, but I didn’t think too much of it because he was wearing a security uniform. When he got close to me I could see he looked pale and sweaty, and I realized something wasn’t right. By then, it was too late. He grabbed hold of my arm and took off with me. I couldn’t yell,” she paused here a moment. “I have a problem with my voice,” she explained quickly, then shrugged as though it wasn’t important. “I tried, but I couldn’t break his grip. Nobody paid attention to me, I suppose because he was a security guard. He would have taken me out of the spaceport if that other man hadn’t stopped him.”

  “It bothers me that he went straight for you as soon as you stepped off the shuttle,” Garen said. “According to the steward that reported the incident, he never even hesitated before grabbing you. You were fairly well disguised with the black hair and bulky clothing. I wonder if he knew who you were and, if so, how he recognized you.”

  Lariah shrugged again, unwilling to discuss the subject of her disguise. “Perhaps he didn’t. Maybe he just saw a woman alone and grabbed her. Maybe it wasn’t me, specifically, that he was after.” Even as she said it, Lariah knew that it didn’t feel right. The man had been scared, and that raised a suspicion in her mind that she wasn’t ready to think about, let alone discuss. Which, for no reason that she could comprehend, made her feel guilty.

  “Has he been caught yet?” she asked, not certain she really wanted to know, but fairly sure that she needed to know. She didn’t want to constantly have to worry about him showing up again. She had enough worries of that sort as it was.

  Garen hesitated, but one look at Lariah’s steady gaze and he knew he had to give her the truth. “He was detained at the skyport to be held until Spaceport Security arrived to take custody of him and bring him back here so that we could question him. By the time Security got there, he was gone. His escape, or release, is still under investigation. All we know for certain at this time is that he did not return to Jasan.”

  Lariah shivered. She didn’t want to be afraid any more, but she couldn’t ignore the implications. If the security guard had targeted her specifically, and she was almost certain that he had, then someone had leaked not only her destination, but her disguise as well. But Jasan was hundreds of light-years from Earth, nearly at the opposite edge of known space. Could Loggia’s power stretch so far?

  “Do not worry,” Garen said. “You are safe with us.’

  Lariah looked into Garen’s golden eyes, and nodded. She believed him. She simply could not imagine anyone getting past the Dracon brothers.

  Lariah looked down at her plate and realized that she couldn’t eat another bite. She pushed the plate away and reached for her glass, taking an experimental sip, then drinking deeply. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it tasted a lot like lemonade and was very good.

  “Why do you not finish your food?” Trey asked, looking as though he was considering picking up her fork and feeding her himself.

  “I would love to,” Lariah said, meaning it. “The food is delicious. My stomach just can’t hold any more.”

  “Well, rest a minute,” Val suggested. “Then maybe you can eat some more.
”

  Lariah lifted a brow at him but said nothing. It was clear they were only concerned for her so she didn’t see any reason to argue about it.

  “Your hair is quite unusual,” Garen said casually, trying to keep the conversation light.

  Lariah blushed, one hand automatically reaching up toward her head before she stopped it and lowered it back to the table. “I know it’s old-fashioned to have such long hair,” she said as though she were apologizing for it. “My Mom always liked me to wear it long. I haven’t really cut it since she died.”

  As one, Garen, Trey and Val put down their forks and placed their closed fists over their hearts, bowing their heads solemnly for a long moment. Lariah was completely nonplussed. When Garen lifted his head the startled expression on her face caused him to smile ruefully.

  “My apologies,” he said. “In our culture, when one suffers a deep emotional loss, such as you have with your Mother, we believe it is better to show our respect for their feelings rather than utter platitudes which, we believe, make the situation more difficult. The placing of one’s closed fist over one’s heart indicates acknowledgement of a deep personal loss, without requiring a verbal response. In essence, it means, my heart hurts for your heart."

  Lariah was touched by their simple, yet deeply meaningful gesture. “Thank you,” she whispered softly, fighting to hold back tears.

  Garen remained silent, giving Lariah a few minutes to compose herself.

  “By the way, I did not mean my comment on your hair as a criticism,” he said when her eyes were once again clear. “I think your hair is exceptionally beautiful, as you are. What I meant was the color of it. I have never seen hair two distinct colors like yours before.”

  Lariah blushed again at the compliments. “I know, it’s different,” she agreed easily, pretending she didn’t know her face was bright red. “My mother told me that her mother had hair the same as mine.”