The Dracons' Woman (32 page)

One of Lariah’s favorite things to do was work with the gardener, Pater.  Like everyone else who met Lariah, Pater fell for her at once.  Her love of all things living radiated from her heart and soul and those around her seemed to bask in her warmth.  He was endlessly patient with her, answering all of her questions about anything that grew in the soil.  When she displayed not only a willingness to get her hands dirty, but an eagerness for it, any reservations Pater might have had vanished.  Lariah truly loved to get down on her knees in the rich soil and help out, planting, pruning, weeding, anything that Pater was doing she was both happy and willing to help. 

On days when there was no work in the garden or she felt like staying in, she would often find her way into the kitchen.  Lariah had been nervous of Suly at first, worried that the older women would think badly of her for living so openly with three men.  Lariah knew that it was the norm on Jasan, but Suly was a human woman, raised on Earth, with different views on such things.  But Suly soon proved that her worries were unfounded.  She had been housekeeping for the Dracons for her entire adult life, and adored them as she would her own children had she ever had any.  She was fiercely loyal to them, and anything they did was fine by her.  She not only approved of Lariah, like everyone else, she adored her.  When Lariah had shyly expressed an interest in learning to cook, Suly had at once taken her under her wing and into her heart.  Suly enjoyed teaching Lariah, though there were some interesting surprises when Lariah got the unfamiliar ingredients mixed up. 

More than anything else though, Lariah loved to cuddle up with her men.  In the evenings, when they had the house to themselves, they would often gather in the living room, each of them doing various activities.  Lariah loved curling up in Garen’s lap while he read, or lying with her head in Trey’s lap with a book while he and Val argued over the best bulls, the most maneuverable space fighters, the fastest ground-cars, or which of them could fly the fastest in dracon form. 

The guys had been working with her to help her get over her fear of fire.  At first they had told her there was no need.  They were against doing anything that would distress her, and preferred to simply be sure that fire was kept away from her.  But when she pointed out that they were fire-breathing dracons and that she
didn’t want to be terrified if one of them coughed up a spark on accident
, they laughed at her, then they agreed.  She was pleased with her progress in that area.  She had actually been able to eat a meal while a pair of candles burned in the center of the table.  She wasn’t sure how she would react if she were surprised with a sudden flame, but she was doing better.

She had also gotten used to the giant beasts her men became.  In fact, she found them beautiful with their cream, tan, brown and black fur that looked exactly like the markings on old Earth leopards.  Val had once shifted just so she could feel the fur when she had expressed curiosity about it.  She’d been delighted to find that it was silky soft, but so dense that she could not run her fingers through it, or even touch the skin beneath.

Lariah soon discovered that if the guys went too long without shifting into their dracons, they grew tense and irritable.  They preferred to transform and go flying each night, and she loved sitting on the patio with Tiny at her feet, watching the three giant dracons soar through the starry skies. 

The only sour note in Lariah’s life was the wait and the worry over the results from Riata.  She tried not to let it intrude on her happiness, but there were times when she just couldn’t help it.  She wanted to be their true mate and have children with them, and she didn’t care if it was only males.  She also knew that Garen, Val and especially Trey greatly desired children.  She remembered the expression on Val’s face when he had told her that they craved family. She didn’t know how she would survive if she was unable to fulfill that want for them, and for herself. 

When her worry got too bad, she went and found her men and enticed them into the bedroom.  It never took too much enticing on her part.  Nor did it take much distracting on their part for her to forget her reasons for initiating things to start with. 

As she sat on the sofa, book forgotten in her lap, she was remembering the hot little spanking she had received several nights before when she had deliberately refused to obey Trey when he’d politely asked her to hand him something.  They had known the reason for her refusal at once, and had immediately given her exactly what she’d needed.  Lariah shivered at the memory.  Once her men had gotten it into their heads that they had not been fulfilling her more submissive needs, well, it had been quite an exciting experience. 

She heard the study door open and looked up with a smile as Garen, Trey and Val all joined her in the living room.  Her smile faded as she took in the expressions on their faces.  They looked stern, determined.  Her mouth went dry.  Something was wrong.  She knew it.

“Tell me,” she said at once.

Garen looked at her, and she could actually see him getting ready to tell her nothing was wrong before discarding the lie.  “They have the results of the tests they ran,” he said shortly.  No further explanation was needed.  Lariah knew exactly what he meant.

“And?” she asked.

“They have learned that the potion altered serum would act as a poison to you.  They have also learned that the serum in our mating fangs cannot be altered.  So, basically, they learned nothing of any use to us as we could not inject you with potion altered serum anyway.”

Lariah absorbed that.  “What else?” she asked.

“Nothing else,” Garen replied shortly.  “They have no answers for us.  They do not know what effect our serum would have on you.  There is no way of knowing unless we actually do it.”

“Then I think we should,” Lariah said.

“No,” Garen replied.  “It is too big of a risk.”

“You have told me that I am your Arima,” Lariah said, “that your mating fangs descending is proof of it.  I think that something…fate or destiny, or whatever you want to call it, is at work here.  I think your mating fangs prove that your bodies know something about my body, something that our minds do not know.  I think we should trust in the signs we have been given, and do it.  Take the chance and see what happens.”

“We are not willing to take such a chance with you,” Garen said flatly.  “We have decided that we will forego the mating ritual, and any risk to you.”

“You have already made your decision,”  Lariah said, her voice barely above a whisper.  “Without discussing it with me.”

“We cannot lose you, Lariah,” Garen replied, crossing the room to sit beside her.

“That means that we will never have children together,” she said.

Garen’s jaw clenched, but his hand was gentle as he placed it against her cheek.  “We cannot risk you, precious one,” he said.  “We will not.”

Lariah dropped her eyes.  She stood and walked slowly away.  Before she reached the doorway she paused and turned to face them.  Her face was calm and composed, but her eyes were stormy with emotion.

“I am hurt that you made this decision without even discussing it with me, as though I have no right to be part of something the effects me so directly,” she said evenly.  “I am also angry that you three have unilaterally decided that I will never have children.  You made that choice for me, without the courtesy of even once asking me how I felt about it.  You had no right to do such a thing.  Nor can you expect me to feel bound by your decision.”

“Lariah,” Garen began, his heart in his throat, the very composure of her face scaring him more than her tears could ever have done.

She held up a hand.  “No Garen,” she said, her voice calm, but so cool that it didn’t even sound like her.  “I wish to be alone.  I ask that you respect my wish.”

Garen hesitated, his every instinct screaming that he reach for her, stop her, hold her tight against him.  He nodded.  “For how long?” he asked.

“For however long it takes me to decide what I should do,” she replied.  “When I am ready, I will come to you.”

Garen did not want to agree to this.  He wanted her close so that they could answer her questions and convince her that what they had decided was best for them all.  But he knew he could not force his will on her in this matter. 

“Agreed,” he said finally, reluctantly.  He could only watch helplessly as she simply turned and left the room.

It was a very long day for Garen, Val and Trey.  They watched from a distance as Lariah strolled through the garden with Tiny at her heels, her usual joy in the flowers and birds absent, her face sad, her step heavy.  She sat on the patio, motionless for so long it worried them, her eyes staring blankly into the distance, the sight of an occasional tear on her cheek making their hearts ache.  Finally she stood and went into the guest bedroom and closed the door. 

When she emerged at last it was nearly dinner time.  They waited in the living room, listening to the sounds of her light steps as she walked up the hall toward them.  When she stepped into the doorway she was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing the day they had first seen her.  The baggy pants, shirt and jacket a reminder they did not want.  She carried her canvas tote bag and her purse, and it was obvious by the looseness of the bag that she had not packed any of her new clothes.

“Lariah,” Garen said, his voice low but with a definite warning in it.  “You are not leaving us.”  It was nothing less than a command.

Lariah sighed and lowered her bags to the floor.  “I know that if you decide to stop me there is nothing I can do about it.”  She shrugged, a slight lift of one shoulder.  “That is up to you.  But first, I want to tell you what I think, and how I feel.”  She waited patiently until Garen gestured to her, indicating she should say what she wanted.

“The three of you have made your decision.  Your decision is based on what the three of you want.  You want me with no risks, no promises, no commitments.  Just your pleasure, your wants, your dreams and wishes.  In a few years I will grow old and die.  You will then be free to choose a normal human woman to have children with.  You will have what you have decided I can not have. 

“You did not ask me what I wanted, have never asked me what I wanted.  I am going to tell you anyway.  I want children, and I want a family of my own.

“I have no desire to waste my life, give up all of my dreams of family, because it pleases you three that I do so.  Especially knowing that you give up nothing.  You will have your family when you choose.  You will live for many centuries should you choose.  I have only a few decades to live, and I fought hard and suffered much to keep my life.  It is mine, and I shall do with it as I please, not as you please.

“It is better for us all that you let me walk out that door.  Then, go pick yourselves a normal human woman, change her as you need to, and have children with her.  I ask that you let me leave.”

“We cannot,” Garen said, his voice hoarse around the knot in his throat.  “You are our Arima.  We cannot let you go.”

“No Garen, I am not your Arima,” Lariah replied, her voice curiously gentle. “That is what the three of you fail to understand.  You have told me what an Arima is, what she does, what it means to be an Arima.  Yet, none of you have stopped to realize that I can do none of those things.  I am, perhaps, a potential Arima.  That is all I am.  And, by your decree, that is all I will ever be.”

Lariah paused, looking into the faces of the three men she loved, her heart aching.  “I ask that you let me leave,” she repeated.

“No,” Garen replied.  “We cannot allow you to walk away from us.”

Lariah nodded.  “I did not think you would,” she said sadly.  Then she picked her bags up, turned and paused.  “I am sorry,” she said in a whisper.  Then she walked back down the hall to the guest room. The sound of the door closing was soft, but somehow, it caused Galen, Val and Trey to flinch. 

“What are we going to do?” Val asked after a long, heavy silence.

Garen shook his head.  “I do not know,” he replied.

The heavy silence returned.  They all felt unsure of themselves, which was something none of them were used to.

Finally Garen rose to his feet.  “I am going to contact Eldar Hamat,” he announced.  “Perhaps there is more to that prophecy about us finding our Arima than we know.  If not, perhaps he can advise us.”

Val and Trey nodded in agreement.  “Yes,” Val said. “This is a good idea.  At the least, perhaps another opinion will help us.”

Garen made the call to the Council Chambers, and asked for Eldar Hamat Katre.  The council aid bowed into the vid screen, and requested that Garen wait for Eldar Hamat to be summoned.  Garen waited with as much patience as he could muster.  He was fully aware, as were all Jasani, that Eldar Hamat was nearly three and a half thousand years old.  He was the eldest member of their race, and the only one left living from before the Dark Time.

It was not long before the familiar face of Eldar Hamat filled the vid screen.  Everything about Eldar Hamat seemed thin.  The bones of his face seemed too sharply etched, his shoulders too narrow, his build too wiry.  Jasani males were, as a rule, large and muscular, but if Eldar Hamat ever had been, he no longer was.  His dark butterscotch hair seemed faded and dull from the little Garen could see of it since it was pulled back in a thong, revealing his pointed ears.  His eyes, the same butterscotch color as his hair, seemed distant and tired.