Pulled by the Tail: Celestial Mates

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Pulled by the Tail: Celestial Mates Page 6

by Nancey Cummings


  Tranquility replied initially but his responses slowed to an eventual nothing. She worried that he changed his mind or if he suffered an accident. He would have sent a message, something, even if only a brief, “In the hospital.”

  If he was able to send a message. Corra was a dangerous planet. He could have passed away and no one thought to tell her.

  The dark thought spoiled her mood. Was he waiting for her? Or would she arrive and find herself a widow?

  Freema, however, kept up her correspondence. Each day had a new message, even if it was only a brief, “I miss you.” Near the end of her residency, Freema often repeated that when she accepted a post on a colony, there would always be a place for Georgia.

  Having a fallback plan helped to calm her nerves. If it didn’t work out, if she couldn’t get along with Tranquility or he was deceased, then she’d lick her wounds, go live with Freema, and become one of many human colonists seeding the stars.

  No, she scolded herself. She wouldn’t start this new chapter of her life with one foot already out the door. She made a commitment and would see it through.

  Her journey was at an end. Just outside the shuttle, her future waited.

  She blinked in the afternoon sunlight. Cold air braced against her exposed skin. Winter firmly had its grip on this part of Corra and all her winter gear was packed away. The climate on ships and stations had been strictly controlled, and maybe even a little on the cool side, but she had never needed anything more than a cardigan or light jacket.

  The house stole her attention and she forgot all about the cold. Constructed on honey-colored stones, it stood warm and glowing in the sunlight. The doors and windows were semi-circles, a traditional Corravian style she recognized from her reading. Half of the windows were boarded up; the wood painted beige to blend with the stones. The house was massive. Not a castle, not by a long shot, but much grander than any place she had ever rested her head. Despite this, the house still held a warm and inviting air.

  The door opened and Georgia’s body snapped to attention, exhaustion vanishing. A coppery bald head peeked out before vanishing again. Before she had a chance to worry that Tranquility forgot about her arrival, the door opened again, and a grinning Tal male strode forward. With an easygoing smile on his face, she recognized him immediately. Tranquility. He hadn’t forgotten after all.

  He held out his arms like he greeted an old friend. Georgia dropped her duffel bag to the ground, ready to run forward and embrace, just like in the movies.

  A woman with vibrant chestnut hair styled in loose, perfectly placed curls, joined Tranquility and wrapped her arms around his waist. She stretched up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his jaw. The message was clear as she marked her territory. “Who’s this, honey bear?”

  Chapter 4

  Georgia

  Freema,

  That offer still good?

  -G

  * * *

  The woman’s smile hit her as hard as a punch to the gut. She was stunning, Georgia thought, like a slimmer, more glamorous version of herself.

  Somehow, while Georgia tried to process the situation, more people joined them. The shuttle pilot unloaded the last of her bags and shoved a tablet toward her for her signature. She took the pen but didn’t sign. Not yet.

  “Georgia! At last!” Tranquility’s smile didn’t budge but now, all too late, she realized it did not reach his eyes.

  Feeling disconnected from her body, the confusion of several people talking all at once washed over her but did not penetrate the fog in her mind.

  Abandoned again. Like always.

  Vicious doubt clawed at her, whispering all her worst fears. Replaced, again.

  “What’s going on?” she said, finding her voice at last.

  “Yeah, honey bear, what’s going on? Who is she?” The woman pressed herself closer to Tranquility.

  “Yeah, honey bear,” another Tal male said, his voice mocking. He folded his arms over his broad chest and frowned. He shared more than a passing resemblance to Georgia’s match. This had to be the brother, Talent. He gave his brother such a scornful look that Georgia felt he was on her side.

  “I’m Georgia, Tranquility’s match. His mate,” she said, only to be met with silence. Three sets of eyes stared at her blankly, like she spoke a foreign language. Had her translation chip failed? No, it worked flawlessly for months. She shifted nervously from foot to foot. “From Celestial Mates? We're, um, married.”

  The blonde narrowed her eyes. “No, I’m married to Quil,” she said, stressing the abbreviated name.

  Now it was her turn to stare blankly. “I don’t understand. The agency sent me. We were matched.”

  Tranquility—no, Quil—ran a hand through his hair and had the decency to look ashamed. “Well, you see, there was a change of plans—”

  Quil kept talking but his words didn’t penetrate the static buzzing in her head. Minutes ago, she had been worried that Quil had died and left her a widow. Instead, she had been left at the altar. Humiliation burned through her.

  “I decided to marry Fiona, but don’t worry, I’m not abandoning you,” Quil said. A bitter laugh tore from her throat. “You can marry my brother, Talen. He’s not much to look at, but he’s hardworking and loyal. You can be happy with him. What do you think?” Quil paused, tail swaying behind him like he genuinely expected an answer.

  “I don’t know—” She felt faint. Never in her life did she feel like she would faint, but her equilibrium had been thrown off, perhaps from the new gravity, but that didn’t make sense because the ship had adjusted to Corravian gravity weeks ago. She wondered what a panic attack felt like.

  The world spun and she didn’t think she could be upright for one more moment.

  Talent laid a steady hand on her arm. She leaned into him for his warmth, and she was so cold and her legs just couldn’t function anymore.

  What a fucking mess—but what did she expect? She ran away from her messed-up life on Earth and just found herself a new mess. God, she was a worthless idiot.

  “Are you well?” Talent asked.

  “No, not at all,” she muttered. She wanted to hide and bury herself under a pile of blankets, to forget the humiliation of this moment.

  “I don’t know what he’s playing at. I’m sorry.”

  The sincerity in his voice pulled her from her spiral of doubt and despair. Her head snapped up, finally noticing the man who held a gentle arm around her waist. He had warm, honey-colored eyes that looked down at her with concern. His complexion was a deep amber with dark stripes. One bisected his right eye, which made the eye seem brighter somehow. His russet hair had a patch of white that started at his crown and fell forward in a careless tumble. She was certain that was the only careless thing about the alien male.

  His ears, triangular with a small tuft of hair at the tip, moved forward, waiting for her response. He smelled of spice, citrus, and harsh chemicals, like paint remover, a surprisingly pleasing combo.

  His lips stretched back into a grin, no doubt to put her at ease, but the white fangs peeking out negated any sense of comfort. Those wickedly sharp teeth stole her focus.

  She opened her mouth but only emitted a squeak. Any possible response emptied out of her head and he was the most terrifying and sexy man she had ever seen.

  “She’s for you,” Quil said, dragging her attention back to the luminous smile on his pretty face.

  The contrast between the two brothers could not be more obvious. They shared similar features—coloration, careless hair—but their similarity ended there. Quil was empty charm and just a bit sleazy.

  How did she ever allow that smile to charm her?

  Talen seemed solid and reliable, with sincerity in his awkward and just a teeny bit terrifying smile.

  “For me?” The question rumbled out of Talent, low and menacing. He sounded about as thrilled as she felt, meaning not thrilled. At all. Zero titillation happening at the moment.

  “A mate! A pretty little hu
man. Only the best. What do you have to say? You don’t need to thank me,” Quil said, tail waving and his entire posture announcing loudly that he did, indeed, expect to be thanked. “You’re speechless, I know. My generosity astounds even myself.”

  Talen moved swiftly, striking Quil in the chest and grabbing him by the ear. The male folded in half, hissing in pain. He struggled to pull away but when Talen snarled, Quil stilled.

  “What are you doing to Quil-boo? You’re hurting him,” Fiona wailed. She pounded on Talen’s arm, her fists practically bouncing off his sculpted biceps.

  He ignored her and focused his attention on Quil, tugging his ear until he knelt on the ground. “You are selfish and dishonor our family,” Talen growled. “I am ashamed to call you brother.”

  “Talen—”

  “No! You think of only yourself. You wanted that damn plant and we allowed you to uproot our lives to satisfy your whim. You wanted a mate and I thought nothing of it when you brought that one home. All this time you had two mates. You plan to start your own harem?”

  Georgia coughed. A harem? Not happening.

  “The contract with the agency was vague—” Talen gave another harsh tug and Quil whimpered. “Check the contract. It does not say that she’s mated to me, just an Achaval male.”

  The blonde continued to pound on Talen, who continued to ignore her. This was chaos. She just needed peace and quiet to think and check that damn contract, and possibly send a strongly worded message to Celestial Mates.

  “Enough,” Georgia said.

  Everyone ignored her. Fiona cried. Talen growled. Quil groveled. A Tal female arrived, her complexion silvery in the fading sunlight, and she scolded the brothers like a mother. She had to be their mother. Judging by the tired slump in her shoulders, she was too used to Quil’s… whatever this disaster was. Shenanigans sounded too lighthearted.

  Mischief.

  Yes, that was the word. Quil’s mischief.

  “I said enough!”

  The crowd fell silent. Talen stepped away from Quil, who rubbed his ear with a frown.

  The older woman took Georgia by the hand. “You must be tired. Let’s get you settled into your room, put something warm in your belly, and we can sort everything out in the morning.”

  “Sounds good,” Georgia said, finding herself nodding. She suspected that woman’s soothing, motherly tones would make her agree to any suggestion.

  “Talen, put this young female in the room next to yours. I’ll send up a tray.” The older woman turned her attention to Quil. “And you. Is this how you behave in front of guests? Get out of my sight before I decide you’re not too big to take over my knee.”

  To his credit, Quil’s tail went limp and he looked ashamed.

  Talen grabbed her bags and escorted her into the house. The foyer had a grand entrance with an elegantly tiled floor and a vaulted ceiling painted to resemble the night sky. Leafy potted plants softened the space, as did the obvious age and wear of the building. They went down the hall, up a staircase, and around several corners. Georgia paid little mind to their route, knowing she would be turned around in the morning, but instead noticed the thin tread on the carpet and the cracks in the plaster walls. The further they drifted from the public part of the house; the more obvious the building’s age became.

  She wondered if the house even had a central computer to manage daily functions and utilities. She had never lived in a place without a computer to schedule cleaning bots or wake her every morning. Asking if the house was as primitive as she suspected would make her seem spoiled, so she kept her mouth shut. Manually setting her own alarm wouldn’t kill her.

  “Here.” Talen opened a heavy wooden door and stood to one side.

  The room was gorgeous, and she wasn't just saying that because she spent the last six months in ship berths and tiny space station hotel rooms. Spacious, the plaster and timber room were painted a mellow white that suggested age, despite the scent of fresh paint. Soothing tones of blue and a complementary gray dominated the decor while a heavy four-poster bed crowded the room. Opposite the bed was a window with three intersecting half-circles. A padded window seat, perfect for reading, was tucked under the window. The interior wall held a fireplace, already crackling merrily, shaped with a circular arc that mimicked the windows. A comfortable-looking high-backed chair sat by the fire, next to a delicate side table. A large armoire and vanity flanked the bed.

  The room had two doors, facing each other.

  While she explored, Talen held himself in a rigid stance with his arms behind his back that screamed military.

  Georgia opened one of two doors, discovering the cleansing room. Across the room, the other door revealed another bedroom suite, decorated in darker greens and browns.

  Talen cleaned his throat. “I apologize. Our rooms are connected. I never questioned why Quil was so keen to finish this one, but now I know.”

  “The paint’s barely dry,” she said.

  “It’s had a few days to dry but I laid the carpet this morning.”

  “No, what I mean is that he’s known about me for six months and you had to rush to finish my room. Oh,” she said, suddenly realizing. “This wasn’t my original room. I assume Fiona has a connecting room with Quil.”

  Talen’s ears lay flat, betraying his embarrassment. “The door locks—between our rooms. I won’t disturb you.” She made no quick response and the moment stretched out between them. He cleared his throat again. “Would you like a bath? Something to eat or drink?”

  “I don’t think I have the appetite.”

  As if on cue, a knock sounded at the open door. A Gyer male, copper in his complexion, carried a tray laden with a bowl of soup, a thick slice of bread, and a steaming mug of tea. He set it at the small side table by the fire and left without saying a word.

  The aroma of fresh-baked bread made her stomach rumble. Talen’s lips tugged up at the corners and his tail swayed behind him.

  “Maybe a little something to eat,” she admitted.

  From her vantage at the table, she spied a large soaking tub in the cleansing room and temptation briefly raised its head. Washing off the stale funk of the ship from her face and body sounded good, but she was tired. With her luck, she’d fall asleep in the tub and drown.

  Talen left her to finish her meal and returned with the rest of her bags. She felt guilty having him cart them all the way through the maze of the house when she wasn’t staying.

  She left Earth on good faith that the agency had found her a perfect match. Within the first ten minutes, she got the measure of Quil Achaval and found him severely wanting. Fiona could keep him. She wasn’t interested in a cheat and a liar. Had he changed his mind, why not tell her and save her the journey? He was thoughtless and selfish and inconsiderate and so much more that it made her heart hurt.

  No, wait. That’s heartburn.

  With a frown, Georgia rubbed her chest. She only ever got heartburn when she was stressed. She dashed off a short message to Freema, basically saying that she arrived, and her heart got stomped. More to follow.

  “Do you need anything else?” Talen asked, standing by her luggage.

  “I think I just need to lie down for a bit.” Her emotions went from excitement to confusion and humiliation, followed by disappointment, frustration and, inexplicably, attraction.

  “We’ll talk in the morning. If you need anything, I’m on the other side of the door,” Talen said, casting one long look at her. As his eyes swept over her, she felt the heat in his gaze. A blush rose to her cheeks, but he left before she could say anything more.

  She washed her face in the bathroom and brushed her teeth. When she returned to the bedroom, a housecat-sized creature nestled on a pillow atop the bed. It had iridescent blue and green feathers with a long tail but no wings.

  Georgia sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. It had to be a pet, right? Wild animals just didn’t wander into houses and make themselves at home in beds. “Hey, pretty. What are you doing her
e?”

  The animal lifted its head, blinked sleepy hazel eyes at her, and stretched out a paw. Casually, it flexed claws and yawned, revealing a mouth full of needle-like teeth.

  “Okay, whatever you are, you can defend yourself. Understood.”

  Then it went back to sleep.

  Georgia slid under the blankets, careful not to disturb the creature that claimed half the bed.

  Shamefully, her mind kept replaying the look Talen gave as he left the room. She wanted to convince herself that the look was a look of longing and not concern, but she found she couldn’t lie to herself. That look was all about pity, and maybe a little shame at his brother’s behavior. Whatever she had seen, she imagined the heat in his honey-colored eyes. It was probably indigestion.

  Yup, a bit of bad beef or whatever they ate on this planet. The faster she got off this backwater rock, the better.

  * * *

  Talen

  * * *

  The Seven Virtues are humility, patience, kindness, justice, fortitude, and prudence.

  But Grandfather, that is only six.

  Above all, the most cherished virtue is practice. The virtues only hold meaning if they are practiced.

  -Traditional Tal proverb

  * * *

  Talen closed the door to his bedroom and found the air stifling. He threw open the window, but the cold air gave him little relief. His skin felt too tight and his tail would not stay still. It brushed against his legs, twitching in agitation.

  He counted the seven virtues, willing them to instill a sense of peace in his restless soul. He counted again, nose twitching with the damp notes of snow on the air.

  A mate. His brother gifted him a mate.

  His stomach rolled at the notion because people were not possessions to be given as gifts. Quil’s thoughtlessness horrified him. The look of utter humiliation on the female’s face haunted him. His brother did that, stole the female’s joy and replaced it with empty promises, and it shamed Talen. How would he make this right?

 

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