Arazhi (Kirenai Fated Mates (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Book 1)

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Arazhi (Kirenai Fated Mates (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Book 1) Page 1

by Tamsin Ley




  Arazhi

  Tamsin Ley

  Purchased by a prince

  When the Intergalactic Dating Agency hires Georgie to plan the first ever human-alien matchmaking soiree, Georgie thinks a charity auction for the local animal shelter will be the perfect ice-breaker. But to get the local singles to participate, she has to set an example, so she offers herself as one of the dates.

  What she doesn’t expect is for her alien buyer to be so freakin’ hot. A few drinks in, and Georgie finds herself alone on a space ship with a blue skinned, muscle bound male.

  Misunderstood matchmaking

  The Kirenai shapeshifters are known for the pleasure they give their bedmates, and Prince Arazhi is no exception. When his family insists it’s time for him to produce an heir, the last thing he wants is a jealous, power hungry female weighing him down, so he heads to Earth. Human females are supposed to be pliant and fertile, willing to bear children without permanent bonds.

  There, he spots a female with a regal bearing that makes his blood thrum hot. Better yet, it appears that she’s for sale.

  But when Georgie not only refuses to be owned but also claims to be barren, Arazhi must choose. Will he follow his heart, or fulfill his duty?

  1

  Georgie flinched as the black lab on her grooming table shook water from his fur. The big oaf was one of the lucky ones headed to the feed store for adoption day, and she’d volunteered to help groom and transport them from the shelter. She wiped her glasses off on her sleeve and finished rinsing the pup, who thanked her with one of his signature slobbery kisses. If she wasn’t living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment with her dad at the moment, she would’ve considered adopting him herself, but there was barely room for the two of them as it was.

  In the nearby kennels, a dog started barking, which soon escalated into a chorus. The Jack Russell Terrier Lora was grooming on the next table over started crying, writhing against the leash. The poor baby had anxiety issues, and Lora tried to distract it with a squeaky toy.

  “I think you’re stressing her even more, Lora,” said Georgie, making a face at the added noise.

  At the third dog washing station, Maise had already finished with an older German Shepherd who now lay placidly at her feet. She owned Yappy Hour, the pet boarding and grooming business they were using to clean up the dogs, and was a pro with the wash station. She leaned against the table, long dark ringlets obscuring her face as she looked at her phone. “What about this one, Georgie? Intergalactic Dating Agency seeks capable human to coordinate first ever alien matchmaking event. All applications considered.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” said Lora, ceasing her squeaky toy distraction and looking at Georgie. “Aliens?”

  Extraterrestrials hadn’t been seen on Earth since a singular appearance over forty years ago—if that was even to be believed. The ships had landed at Beijing Daxing International Airport in China, spoken to government officials there, and departed again before the other nations could even respond. Despite photographs and eyewitness accounts, many people believed the visit had been a hoax—a myth created by governments to justify spending on defense and outlandish space research.

  Yet in the years since, people still claimed to have been abducted, including Georgie’s mom. Her mom had died several years ago from a head injury after falling from a ladder, but Georgie’d always wanted to believe her mother’s story.

  “Maybe they’re checking in on us,” Georgie said.

  “To ask for dates to the movies? How desperate can they be?” Lora snorted. “Keep scrolling, Maise.”

  “No, wait. I want to know more,” said Georgie, wiping her hands off on a towel.

  If this was an actual, paying gig, she couldn’t dismiss it without at least reading the fine print. She’d been trying to get her event planning business off the ground for months now, but every time she thought she had a lead, someone snagged the contract out from under her. The only people who said yes couldn’t pay her, and one guy who wanted a bar mitzvah for his son had even had the balls to say she should be grateful for the “exposure” planning his son’s event would get her. Asshole.

  Problem was, she was desperate enough to consider it. Since her divorce, she’d been living with her dad to save money, sinking all her savings into getting her business off the ground while working part time as a cashier at the grocery store. She had to do something soon, or she was going to go crazy.

  “Maybe it’s just a cosplay party or something. Let me see your phone.” She held out her hand.

  Maise handed over her cell, and Georgie looked over the advertisement. An alien matchmaking event did sound hokey, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask for more information and submit a proposal. Heck, an alien-themed party could be really fun. She typed in her email address and handed the phone back.

  “How cool would it be to plan the first ever party with actual aliens?” asked Maise, pocketing the phone and grabbing a towel to help Georgie with the lab.

  “I just want to know how much they’ll pay.” Georgie fixed a collar around the dog’s neck and led him to the floor.

  “You couldn’t pay me enough to go on a date with an alien.” Lora scooped the shivering terrier into her arms.

  As they headed to the shelter’s van to load the dogs for transport, the breeze coming off the pulp factory made Georgette want to gag. It was particularly bad today. She’d just closed the lab into a kennel and shut the door when her phone pinged with an incoming email. She glanced at it.

  “It’s them,” she said, surprised to have a response so quickly, then read the email out loud. “Thank you for your interest in the Intergalactic Dating Agency. Please send proposed Earth time frame, location and cultural requirements.”

  Lora readjusted her sagging auburn ponytail. “Earth time frame? Really? They’re certainly playing up the alien angle, aren’t they?”

  “Just staying in character, I guess.” Georgie chuckled. A plan was already forming in her head. “At least I know they want me to keep things weird.”

  “What the heck are cultural requirements?” asked Maise.

  “I don’t know, but it sounds fun.” Georgie squinted at the fine print at the bottom of the email. It was hard to read, so she expanded the text.

  Her jaw dropped. “Holy crap, listen to this! Upon acceptance, the coordinator will be paid ten thousand Earth credits in the monetary unit of their choosing plus expenses upon receipt.”

  “Earth credits?” asked Maise as she climbed into the van’s front seat. “What are those?”

  “I think they mean I can choose dollars or yen or whatever currency I want.” Georgie bit her lip. “And look, the return email is from a dot gov site.” She let out a slow breath. “I think this really is a solicitation from aliens.”

  Lora scrunched one eye doubtfully and moved to the driver’s side. “Highly questionable.”

  Questionable or not, Georgie needed the money. “I have an idea. Let’s host a charity auction where aliens—or alien wannabes or whatever—bid on dates, and the proceeds benefit the shelter. The client foots the bill for the party, with food, dancing, and booze. The aliens meet women, and the shelter earns some money. Win-win!”

  “But who are you going to auction?” asked Maise, scooting across the bench and buckling into the middle seat.

  Georgie gave her a devious smile and climbed in behind her. “People who support the animal shelter, of course.”

  Lora shook her head and started the engine. “Count me out. I’m not into green slime.”

  “They’re not slimy,” insisted Georgie. “They lo
ok sort of human. See?” She did a quick search and found one of the old images that had been all over the news. A slim alien with bluish skin looked into the camera with big eyes.

  “They’re sort of cute,” said Maise.

  Lora glanced at the image, then put the van into drive. “He looks like my grandpa.”

  Georgie released a heavy sigh. “I’m not asking you to marry one, Lora. Just go out to dinner. Or coffee. Look at it as an opportunity to make new friends.”

  “I usually do more than make friends on my dates.” Lora gave her a sardonic look.

  “Slut.” Maise elbowed her in the ribs with a smile.

  Lora laughed. “Whatever.”

  “Please?” begged Georgie. “I really need this contract.”

  “I’ll run security for you. You might need someone to fend off death rays or something.” Lora was a police officer and always assumed there’d be trouble.

  “I can hire security,” Georgie said. “I need women for the auction.”

  Lora raised an eyebrow. “Who says they want women?”

  “Oh.” Georgie opened up her email. “You’re right. I’d better ask.”

  “What about you?” asked Maise. “Are you entering?”

  “I have to run things.” Georgie was already researching possible venues, caterers, permits…

  Lora snorted and turned onto the highway. “Right. The perfect excuse.”

  Georgie looked up. “Fine. If I enter the auction, will you agree to do it, too?”

  “Can I bring my dogs?” asked Maise. “If it’s a pet event, we should include pets.”

  “Great idea,” Georgie said. “We can hold it at Covey Park.”

  “Aliens, come run with our animals at the dog park!” Lora called toward the ceiling.

  “So you’ll help?” asked Georgie, batting her eyes beseechingly at her friend.

  “I guess,” said Lora. “But at the first sign of slime, I’m out.”

  Georgie finished drafting her proposal while they drove. Normally, she would take this home to think about it. But she’d had opportunity snatched out from under her too often.

  This time, she was going to be first.

  She hit send and set her phone on her lap. Once she had a contract, she’d worry about getting more volunteers for the auction.

  To her surprise, her phone buzzed before they’d even reached the feed store. She swallowed, hardly able to believe the response. Your terms are acceptable. Women matches only. Please find your fee in your monetary storage account. Additional funds available upon receipt. Send updates to this address.

  Wondering how they’d accessed her bank account, she logged on to find she was now ten thousand dollars richer. “Holy shit,” she breathed. “I just got the contract.”

  “You did?” Maise asked.

  Georgie showed her the bank balance.

  “Wow! That was fast!” Maise grinned and raised her hand for a high five.

  Georgie gleefully smacked her palm as reality settled in.

  She had an event to plan.

  2

  Prince Arazhi descended the ramp from his private ship onto the dark stone tiles of the landing pad outside the palace. As he walked, his limbs shifted, becoming heavily muscled to match his mother’s species, while his blue-skinned features coalesced into the bored-but-responsible look he tended to wear for his family. He’d received an urgent request to attend his father, Emperor Ozhin, and he wasn’t happy he’d been dragged away from his latest dalliance with a Hypawa female with eyes like liquid magma and a mouth just as hot.

  Like most of his liaisons, she’d hoped to secure a prince as a mate. And like all of his liaisons, he’d enjoyed the game, teaching her how to entice a partner without allowing himself to be enticed. An all-male species, Kirenai were well known across the galaxy as being able to bring great pleasure to their partners, using their empathic Iki’i senses to know exactly what a female desired. But Arazhi had no intention of attaching himself to a jealous, power-hungry female.

  Guards stood posted outside the palace courtyard, their various bipedal shapes encased in full body armor, despite the heat. They greeted him with nods as he passed. He strode through the gate into the courtyard where towering blue happa fronds shaded the mossy path to the palace’s main door.

  A bondservant met him at the threshold. “Welcome home, my prince. Would you like me to prepare your room?”

  “I won’t be staying, but thank you.” He intended to go straight back to the Hypawa’s waiting arms once this meeting was over.

  Arazhi strode down the arched stone hallway toward the throne room. Even when there was no court in session, his father preferred to conduct life from the vantage of his throne, and Arazhi was surprised to find the emperor’s dais vacant.

  A teal-skinned guard in traditional happa bark body armor stood at the base of the platform. He pointed toward the back to the royal chambers.

  Unshielded anxiety pulsed from that direction, nudging his Iki’i senses, and Arazhi moved toward the door, concern building in his chest; most of the time he had to be nearby to sense someone’s emotions.

  The royal sitting room was vacant, and the doors to the bedroom stood open. The fruity scent of regeneration fluid filled the air. Concern transformed to worry, and he hurried forward.

  “…can’t be certain,” someone in the bedchamber was saying, followed by a murmur he didn’t catch.

  Inside the chamber, Arazhi found Elthos, the royal healer and the emperor’s most trusted advisor, standing near a regeneration pod that must’ve been brought in from the clinic, pink-scaled features as unreadable as ever. Arazhi’s dam sat next to it, one alabaster hand resting on the lip of the gray, trough-like container that brimmed with green regeneration fluid.

  Arazhi’s heart constricted. Kirenai required periods of rest when they allowed their bodies to relax into their natural, amorphous state, but regen fluid was reserved for the seriously ill or injured who couldn’t maintain a humanoid form to consume sustenance.

  He hurried forward. “What’s going on, Damma? Is Father hurt?”

  His damma rose, a tight smile on her pale white face. She was a Vatosangan, small and slight, with deep blue hair and rounded features. “My child, we’re so glad you’re here.”

  The regen fluid in the pod roiled as his father’s pale blue face appeared just above the surface. “Hello, my son.” The emperor’s usually melodious voice had a gravelly quality. “It’s good you’ve come.”

  “Tell me what happened.” Arazhi leaned over to look into the pod. The blue, amoeba-like form floating inside showed no outward signs of illness or damage.

  Damma shrugged, blue lashes damp with unshed tears. “He cannot keep to his upright form. The healers say he’s been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Arazhi sucked in a breath. That explained the regen fluid. He looked to the nearby healer. “When? By who? Is there an antidote?”

  “We are working on one,” Elthos said with a bow. As a Qalqan, he possessed a machine-like calm that was immune to a Kirenai’s Iki’i, but a Qalqan’s objectivity also made them the best healers in the galaxy. “The palace guards are investigating suspects.”

  Damma nodded to the healer. “Thank you, Elthos. Please keep me updated on what you find.”

  “Of course, empress. I’ll get back to work.” Elthos bowed again and turned to leave.

  Arazhi watched his father’s face dip below the surface and back up again. Normally, his father was excellent at shielding his Iki’i, but pain now leaked from him in undulating waves.

  Damma rose from her cushion and looped her arm through his, drawing his attention. “You must produce an heir immediately.”

  Arazhi bit his lip. This was not the discussion he’d prepared for, especially now that he knew his father was ill. “I don’t want to talk about that now, Damma. I’m still young, and I’ve met no one who makes my shape want to settle, let alone solidify.” That was only partly true—there had been a female on Sireta Pri
me who’d kept him enthralled for almost two irns when he was younger. But she’d continually compared him to other men, no matter how he adjusted his form, and eventually left to marry a G’nax nobleman. He’d avoided that sector of space ever since.

  Emperor Ozhin sighed. “The Senburu are on the verge of a coup. They want to nominate a new successor to the throne.”

  The Senburu were powerful merchants who dominated the galactic consortium of planets and disagreed with the emperor’s trade policies. They’d been trying to relegate his father’s position to nothing but a figurehead since before Arazhi was born. “They can’t do that. The planetary governors support our dynasty.”

  Damma took his hand. “Kirenai are bonding less frequently, and even bonded pairs produce fewer and fewer offspring. Everyone wants to be sure the royal line is secure. The consortium won’t allow you to ascend the throne without an heir.”

  “That’s ludicrous.” He pulled his hand free. “I have plenty of time to produce an heir.”

  Most Kirenai waited until late in their long life to settle, enjoying their capacity to assume different forms as long as possible. Once a Kirenai bonded, his form would permanently assume the most pleasing shape for his mate.

  Voice strained, his father said, “The consortium has already put forth Senbur Aguno as a candidate.”

  Arazhi stiffened. Aguno was his father’s second cousin and only known blood relative. “He would turn on you like that?”

  “He’s found a mate,” Damma said softly. “And it’s rumored she’s already with child.”

  Arazhi frowned. He’d seen Aguno at a recent ball, and there’d been no mention of a mate, let alone a child. “How is that possible?”

  “His mate’s from a planet called Earth, where the females are said to be like ijin’en, going into estrus and out again as easily as breathing,” said his father.

  Ijin’en were herd animals that symbolized stupidity. “What sort of heir can such a union produce?” Arazhi scoffed. “The Senburu can’t possibly consider such a species worthy of the throne.”

 

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