Mated to Two Beasts

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Mated to Two Beasts Page 102

by T. S. Ryder


  “This is all we have for now. If you find a style you like, let me know. Even if it’s not in your size, I sometimes have other sizes in the back.” The girl nodded and started going through the selection.

  A few minutes later, a large, burly man entered the shop, a disapproving grimace on his face. Following close behind him was a pale-skinned woman, holding a bag that was much too big. She swayed her hips as she walked and her high heels clicked loudly on the floor. Quickly, Cynthia walked up to the counter, holding a gnarled wooden pencil up to her chin, as if in contemplation. She took a piece of paper and jotted something down. Instantly, the woman’s shoes grew quiet and Cynthia smiled to herself. Her spell had worked.

  “How may I help you?” she asked from behind the counter, a friendly smile painted on her face.

  The man just shook his head, his beefy hands clasped behind his back. “We’re here with our daughter, Tamara.”

  The woman followed him to the clearance section. “I still think she would be better off going to Macy’s,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “My daughter? In a plus-size store?” The woman shook her head. Cynthia’s eyes narrowed in their direction, feeling her blood boil in her veins.

  “Well, I’m sure your daughter will fall in love with the right dress when she sees it,” Cynthia said through gritted teeth, suddenly standing right next to the woman, a hand on her voluptuous hip, looking intimidating.

  “Yeah…” the woman mumbled, walking away. Cynthia grinned subtly in victory, walking over to the young girl. “Do you need any help picking out a dress?”

  “I don’t know what to get…” she responded worriedly, biting her bottom lip.

  “Well, let’s start with color. What do you like?”

  “Blue. Darker shades of blue,” the girl answered. Instantaneously, there seemed to be an increase of blue dresses on the rack.

  “Okay. Now do you know what style you’re looking for? A tight, sexy fit or something a bit more princess-style?” Cynthia asked, holding up two wildly different dresses, both in a pleasant shade of blue.

  “Well…” The girl looked over at her parents and then dropped her voice down to a hushed whisper. “Anything that would make me look good. I want to prove to them that I’m not some whale.” She sounded like she was about to cry. Cynthia felt pity for the girl, bringing her into a tight hug.

  “Why don’t you hop into a dressing room and I’ll bring you some dresses to try on,” Cynthia offered.

  “Oh, do you need to know my size?” The girl looked even more worried than before.

  “Not at all. I do this for a living. I’m pretty good at working these things out.” She winked at the girl who suddenly looked hopeful. Cynthia took her time, browsing through the rack, occasionally tapping her finger against a piece of fabric, seeing it change before her very eyes. “This will never do…” she mumbled, pulling out a dress and then hanging it back up again. “Ah! Perfect!” She held up a shimmering blue dress, her hazel eyes now sparkling with excitement. She couldn’t wait to see how the girl would look in this.

  She brought it over to the dressing room and then helped her put it on, zipping it up for her and guiding her to the floor-length mirror. The girl stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her reflection. The dress fit her perfectly. It seemed to hide every ounce of fat that ever made her feel self-conscious. Its tapered pattern gave her the illusion of an hourglass figure, making her look even sexier than she already was.

  “I think you look absolutely amazing,” Cynthia whispered, leaning in close, flashing a bright white smile. “I’m sure you’ll have all the boys flocking after you with this one!”

  The girl giggled with glee, doing a little twirl so she could see the bottom half of her dress flow with her movements. “I love it!” Hurriedly, she walked over to her parents, who stood there with their mouths agape. They couldn’t believe how well it suited her. From the color to the pattern, it was completely breathtaking.

  “We’ll take it,” the parents said in unison, the girl’s face lighting up like a midnight star.

  Chapter Two

  Meanwhile, next door, in the shop immediately adjacent to Better with Size, Sullivan Cox got to work setting up his new store. There were still tarps over the windows, preventing people from looking inside, but the sign over the door already said Dragon Scale Antiques. Many people tried to peer inside and see what kind of novelty items would be for sale, but it was impossible.

  Sullivan was all alone in the small shop, polishing an ancient dagger. Its hilt was encrusted with jewels and the sheath was engraved with the body of a large, slumbering dragon, its tail wrapping around the base. Slowly, he pulled on the hilt. The blade shone with a deadly sharpness. Sullivan gently ran his finger along the double edge, feeling how dangerous it really was. He smirked before putting it in a display case along with all the other swords he had for sale.

  They all had impossible price tags on them, but Sullivan also knew they were worth much more than what he was selling them for. Most of them were from the time of the crusades when his species had run rampant across all of the modern day Europe. Their large, leather wings had soared through the sky, instilling fear in the hearts of the humans below, feebly shooting arrows in an attempt to save their towns from destruction. It never worked.

  That is, until the humans developed more powerful weaponry such as cannons and catapults. The dragons felt a horrible blow to their numbers as they were shot out of the sky, their hides quickly used to make armor, saddles, and whips. Now, dragons, once the most powerful race on the planet, resided only in the northernmost parts of Ireland, where people were oblivious to their existence.

  Still, the dragon community was a close-knit one. Everyone knew everyone and rumors spread like wildfire. Sullivan had grown up in this culture, enjoying the wealth of knowledge that came along with it. He heard stories from his grandfathers about the Great War and the dreaded King Arthur. Now, however, he was no longer welcome there.

  He had been exiled. Being next in line to the throne, it was his duty to obtain both a mate and an heir by his two hundred and fiftieth year. He had not done so. It was not for lack of trying. He went to all the ceremonial balls his father had ordered him to go to, but he simply couldn’t find a suitor that sparked his interest. Not once did he find his heart begin to race when he looked at a woman. He wanted the love he had always read about but had never managed to find.

  Sullivan sighed, thinking about it. For forty long years, he had been exiled to the human world, traveling from place to place before people could notice his lack of aging. Now, he had settled himself in rainy Seattle, where the weather reminded him somewhat of a home. He occupied himself with his small shop, enjoying the task of taking care of the artifacts he had accumulated over the years. He enjoyed their stories and company as if each one of them were a friend of his. As a dragon, he had acquired a large amount of wealth from his heritage alone. Even as an exile, he had more money than any human could even dream of. He could have done anything he wanted, including nothing at all. If he cared for staying at home and playing video games all day, he could afford it. He, however, preferred to keep himself busy and decided to open up an antique store, entertaining himself with his almost peculiar obsession with all things ancient. On top of that, trading such high-valued items allowed for a lot of haggling. It was something he had picked up during the Ottoman occupation of Europe and had grown a liking to for whatever reason. It’s no good if you don’t haggle, he thought.

  Grinning at his own eccentricity, he started to unpack a box full of Chinese vases from the Xia dynasty, he felt a sudden shiver run down his spine. Magic. His head jerked up, looking around. He hadn’t packed any of his enchanted artifacts, had he? He rubbed his temples in confusion. Everything looked just as it should. Swords to one side. Pottery to another. Jewelry in the display case. All of it was normal, crafted by humans, centuries ago.

  He shrugged, thinking it was just a fluke and got back to work. He pull
ed out a small, glittering tiara that had once belonged to Catherine of Aragon. Sullivan ran his fingers over the small jewels and twisted silver, feeling the history embedded deep within. His time of exile had been hard on him, but at least it gave him the excuse to dive into the affairs of humans, something he found quite fascinating.

  He placed the tiara in the center of the display case, knowing it would catch the eye of anyone who entered his shop. Just as he put it into place, ever so carefully, the strange sensation overcame his body once more. It was stronger this time. There was no doubt about it, someone was using magic.

  Curious, he left his shop, making sure to lock it securely. He would be devastated if someone ransacked his inventory. He followed his instinct to the brightly-lit store neighboring his own. He looked up at the sign. Better with Size. He had noticed it this morning when he had come in, but it hadn’t been open yet.

  Now, he could properly see the women’s clothing store, stocked to the brim with dresses, shoes, and accessories. He was about to step inside when a girl, about the age of sixteen, stepped out, a bright smile on her face. She was holding a blue dress in her arms, wrapped up in clear plastic so it wouldn’t get dirty. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” she asked the couple who walked behind her, disgruntled looks on their faces. They mumbled a response as the girl continued to beam. Sullivan smiled, the girl’s mood seemingly contagious.

  He stepped inside, looking for the one who had cast such powerful magic. “How may I help you?” a soft, honey-like voice suddenly called out, taking Sullivan by surprise. He hadn’t felt anyone’s presence and yet, when he looked up, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She was full around the edges, with a drop-dead figure. Sullivan couldn’t stop himself from staring. Her plump hips and full chest had his heart beating like never before.

  “Right. Oh…” For once in his life, Sullivan was lost for words. He was usually so calm and collected, but the woman’s piercing gaze shot right through him. “I rented the space next to you.”

  “Ah, so you’re my mystery neighbor,” Cynthia said with a glimmer in her eyes. She smiled warmly at him, taking in his figure. She was very pleased with what she saw. His tall, muscular build appealed to her. She could tell, even through the tight, black sleeveless shirt he wore, that he had a chiseled midsection and maybe even one of those scandalous V’s that led down to his crotch. Her thighs burned at the mental image and her cheeks turned red. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She smiled, confidently holding out a hand.

  Sullivan looked down at it. He didn’t want to shake her hand. What he really wanted to do was take her right there and then. No woman had ever made such an impression on him. His hormones were on high alert and his inner dragon was slowly waking up from its slumber. Still, he knew the way of humans and if he declined this sign of greeting, he would look inexplicably rude or at the very least, rather weird.

  He took her hand in his, shaking it firmly, returning the smile, flashing a set of dazzling white teeth. Cynthia nearly gasped, feeling the carnal pleasure that seemed to flow from his hand and into her body. She had never felt such strength before. Her cheeks colored even more as she looked up into his dark eyes.

  Finally, Sullivan pulled his hand away when he thought enough time had passed. He ran his fingers through the long side of his hair, trying to catch Cynthia’s eye. She liked his hair. It was edgy, with one side close-shaven while the other was long and wavy, nearly reaching his shoulders in long black strands.

  “Anyway, did you just come for a visit or are you looking for a dress?” Cynthia teased.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, do you have anything that would fit me?” he played along. Cynthia let out a laugh, thinking he was rather funny. She liked that.

  “I like you. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” She smiled, walking behind the counter and sitting down. He stood in front of the display, seeing various cell phone cases. Some of them depicted cartoon cats while others were in the form of a cupcake.

  “Do people really buy this stuff?” Sullivan asked.

  “You’d be surprised. Girls will buy anything if they have a credit card in their hands.” Cynthia’s soft laughter echoed through the empty store. Sullivan smiled up at her, intoxicated by the sound.

  “Is that so?” Sullivan asked and leaned in closer, admiring the various shades of nail polish. “It looks like your customers have a lot to choose from.”

  “Yeah, I try to stock all the best products so my customers can always leave happy.” Cynthia picked up her pencil, and effortlessly twirled it in her fingers. It was carved out of an ancient piece of wood, its end sharpened into a perfect tip.

  “I can see that,” Sullivan responded, remembering the girl with the blue dress. “I hope I can do the same with my customers.” Sullivan’s deep growl of a voice sent shivers down Cynthia’s spine. Her pencil spun in her hand even faster as she stared at the alluring stranger before her.

  “What are you going to be selling?” Cynthia asked, leaning forward on her elbows, her head in her hands. As she did so, her low cut shirt dipped down a little, exposing her lovely bosom. Sullivan’s eyes lowered for a split second, his tanned cheeks turning a shade darker before he pried his eyes away, knowing it was rude to stare. Still, he was thankful for the display case separating them, hiding his growing excitement.

  “Antiques… and similar knick-knacks,” he answered, breathlessly. His whole body felt like it was on fire. The heat started in the pit of his stomach and spread outward until even the tip of his toes felt like they were aflame.

  “Oh, that’s very cool. What kind of antiques?” Cynthia asked, getting even closer. She could smell the man’s intoxicating musk, a mix of soap and mint. She gave him an innocent smile, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders.

  “All sorts. I have a few swords. Some jewelry from various royalty around the world. Old world pottery,” Sullivan answered excitedly.

  “How did you manage to come across all that? Do you buy and trade?” Cynthia asked. This man was either very rich or he was one hell of a haggler.

  “I’ve traveled much of the world, picking up these items here and there. It’s been a hobby of mine for quite some time now,” Sullivan answered. Cynthia continued to stare at him, reaching the conclusion that this man had some money to his name.

  “So tell me, where have your travels led you?” Cynthia asked, wanting to hear him speak again.

  “Ireland, England, China, Japan, India, Turkey, Italy… I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Oh, you’re not bothering me at all,” Cynthia assured him, reaching out and placing her hand over his. Sullivan froze in place, feeling her soft, silky fingers against his rough skin. His heart skipped a beat.

  “That’s very kind of you,” he answered, his voice low and a little embarrassed. “Listen, are you busy tonight?”

  “No, why?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me,” he asked colloquially, hoping he had said the right thing. He knew that people often had dinner together in order to express their affection, but since no woman had ever appealed to him before, he had always eaten his meals alone. For forty long years. Now, however, that was about to change.

  Cynthia blushed, her cheeks turning a fine shade of pink. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

  Chapter Three

  Sullivan couldn’t wait for the evening, but it seemed like the minutes kept dragging on. Every time he looked at the large grandfather clock positioned at the back of his shop, it seemed like the arrows wouldn’t move. He grew frustrated and tried to dive into his work to get his mind off things, but it wasn’t helping. All he could think about was Cynthia and her beautiful face. Her rounded cheeks, cute button nose, and kissable pink lips were stuck in his mind, slowly driving him insane.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the hour arrived. The clock struck six, the gong
inside chiming out six times. A bright smile spread across his face. He grabbed his jacket, knowing it was prone to rain and stepped out of his shop, once again making certain that he had locked it up properly before making his way outside. Cynthia was already waiting for him, standing there in a bright green raincoat. “I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” Sullivan asked worriedly.

  “Not at all. I just got here,” Cynthia answered, zipping up her jacket, pulling it tight around her curves. “It’s pretty nasty out there,” she commented. “I just checked the weather.” Inside the mall, it was near impossible to tell what was going on outside. “So where are we going for dinner?” she asked, admiring his leather jacket that hung perfectly off his chiseled body.

  “I thought I’d cook for you, would that be okay?” Sullivan asked.

  “You want to cook for me?” Cynthia exclaimed, sounding a little surprised. She had been on quite a few dates in her time but never before had a man offered to cook for her, especially not on a first date.

  “Yes. Do you like Sichuan Huoguo?” Sullivan asked as if it were a completely normal question.

  “What’s that?” Cynthia asked. Was this guy trying to poison her or something?

  Sullivan frowned slightly. “Sichuan Huoguo. It’s an East Asian hot pot. It’s a sort of…” He paused, trying to think of the English word he was looking for. “… fondue. It’s really spicy and hot and you can cook whatever you want in it, beef, fish, tofu or vegetables. It’s really good, I promise.” Sullivan reached out and took her hand into his, guiding her toward the exit.

  “If you say so. I do like spicy foods, so I’m willing to try it. Then again, I’m always willing to try new things.” Cynthia chuckled. “The food court hates me because I always go around, eating all the food samples at lunch time.”

  Sullivan looked down at her, not quite understanding what she was saying, but smiling nonetheless. Even though he had just met her, he already loved her company. She had a gentle aura which radiated positive energy, invigorating him. He just hoped he wouldn’t mess up their date.

 

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