Stolen (Tribes #2) - Milana Jacks Page 0,48

painful, and I like it.

The back of my head hits the door, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. He palms my ass and growls, his hunter eyes showing. I fist his hair and yank to get his hunter riled up. He fucks me harder, my back scraping the door, and I lean forward and bite his cheek, knowing how much he likes this, knowing how it gets him off, and I take great pleasure in getting him off, making him lose some of that control he holds over his hunter.

“I’m going to have your puppies,” I whisper at his ear.

Nar’s growling, rutting into me.

“And I will strike down the tower if you don’t destroy the pods like I asked you to.” I gasp, shocked at my own words, but Nar’s still fucking me as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Perhaps I said nothing. Perhaps it was all in my head. Perhaps the goddess of madness and lust did influence Aoa, and I am indeed mad. But if I am to be mad, at least I will be madly in love with a predator who worships me.

***

Hi, Milana here. Thank you for reading Stolen, and moving through the Tribes series with me. I truly hope you loved Nar as much as I did. He’s so dirty and possessive and his bedroom tastes are some of my favs. I also really loved his friendship with Mas, who is next in line for a book and you can read the preview on the next page.

Lured Exclusive Teaser

In the middle of the night, instead of sleeping and healing, bleary-eyed and mighty annoyed with my state of mind, I stare at my private portal controls. I hacked the portal control center Feli erected during the Ra games. All I have to do now is pull up the portal he shoved me into and step onto the sand just beyond the shimmering opening. I even packed my sack, strapped on weapons, and brought a gift I made during the cycle when I couldn’t stop thinking about the footprints with ten small toes.

The fact I wanna find a female isn’t unusual.

The fact I wanna go off to look for the female near the Blood Dunes is unusual.

It’s unlike me to risk my life when I know I can’t win. And when faced with a female who could be a goddess, a male cannot win. They have a way of crawling under the skin and wrapping their claws around our hunter’s necks, stroking those instincts for both breeding and hunting, making us more predatory than we want to be, making us obsess over them and serve them till the end of our time.

Standing, I rub the back of my neck. If I tell Hart where I’m going, he’ll prohibit it. Or worse, send me in with a group of Ka males, risking their lives as well as mine in the process. We’re just over one thousand males, and every male counts, or we’ll be wiped from the face of the planet, become a historical swirl on a wall commemorating the Ra conquests.

Before I can talk myself out of this, I jump into the portal and land on the sand of the Blood Dunes. I don’t linger. The moment my boots touch the sand, I sprint for the thick forests surrounding the Dunes on three sides. The North Dunes is nothing but sea.

My tracks. Crap. I walk back and scratch out my tracks with the ax and keep covering them, running backward, bent over and all kinds of awkward and slow. But I don’t want the womankind (or goddess) to know I arrived. I need to catch her unawares, and I need an exiting portal inside the forest for that to happen. I am not going back on the damned sand where my ancestors lay bleeding for span after span, unable to heal, unable to die, while the goddess of blood and grace danced, hopping from body to body, evoking her favorite song made by the wheezing of their lungs beneath her perfect foot. With five small toes.

Leaping now, because I can’t get the fuck out of there fast enough, I land on the rock and hop to another, then another, until I reach the upper part of the rock-strewn forest. Having safely made it past the sand, I settle between two boulders and get out the ritual stones and the wood. On the ground, I arrange them into the pattern that will signal