The Taming: Book 3 in the Tribe Warrior Series by Imogen Keeper (romantic novels in english TXT) 📕

the tops of three more buildings. Dropped to a crouch, straining her ears.

She couldn’t hear a thing. Her heart was pounding in her ears hard enough to explode, and she was breathing too loud.

Way too loud. He’d be able to hear it.

She sucked in air, expanding her lungs to compress her heart enough to slow its beats, she cocked her head, listening. The breeze. City sounds. A few birds in the distance. And below that… there it was. The slap of booted feet on the streets below.

She launched into another full sprint across the roof top. Vaulted over two more.

Calm down. She needed to calm down. Panic served no purpose. But she couldn’t trust herself to think clearly.

The wrong move would get her caught by the big bastard of a prime below, and he’d deliver her straight to the Boss.

And everyone in the city knew exactly what the Boss did with any stray felana dumb enough to get caught unmarked or unattended.

She cursed at the stars, and came to a stop at the edge of a building, hesitated with the toes of her boots overhanging the roof by an inch. Down below, the bald one with tattoos ran by. His boots made a rhythmic patta-pat-patta-pat that echoed across the night.

The warehouse.

She spun a tight circle and ran a straight path to where she came from, leaping from a final rooftop, catching herself on a balcony and climbing up a gutter back to the roof with the window.

They wouldn’t expect her to go back here. They’d all be off searching in the wrong spot.

Moving quietly across a rusty metal fire-escape ladder, she climbed down to street level, and froze at the bottom to get her bearings. It was too dark to see much more than shadows.

A few hovers moved around in the distance. The woman in the warehouse spoke to someone in a low murmur. But nothing else.

Pebbles cracking beneath her feet with every step, Tessa sidled down the alley. In ended at another, larger one that stretched between Chappo and Hastineas Streets. And that was homefree. Two more blocks and she could blend in with the Humanis and the stink of the market.

“Psssst.”

She didn’t even pause to look, just grabbed the knife in its sheath, and the muscles of her thighs tightened, preparing to run.

She didn’t make it even a single step.

A hand like steel closed around her upper arm and whipped her back so hard her teeth smacked together. A jab to the forearm numbed her wrist, and the knife clattered across the pavement and out of reach.

Useless.

Vaniiya.

She opened her mouth to cry out, but a hand clapped down, stifling any noise. Nobody on the main streets would have heard her anyway, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have helped. Nobody helped anybody in Didgermmion. Not since the Council had sealed off the city, instituted rationing and made it illegal for felanas to go outside unattended or unmarked.

Whoever had caught her dragged her back into the darkness. No way was she getting taken to the stalls.

She fought like hell, kicking and bucking and throwing her arms, but an arm snaked around her ribcage, and drew her in tight.

A pathetic little whimper escaped her lips.

It was a man. A Prime. She knew that smell, even though she’d spent every second of her adult life actively avoiding the species.

He shoved her against a wall, her skull thudded and pinpricks of light burst in front of her eyes. She lashed out, knees and elbows. She was panting, breathing so hard it felt like her lungs would explode, but he wasn’t. He was cold as ice, as he trapped her wrists in his fist.

She twisted, lifting her knee up hard, heading straight for his groin.

“Fuck.” He dodged it with his thigh, and he closed a hand around her neck.

At least she’d finally managed to piss him off.

“Let me go, asshole,” she wriggled a hand free and managed to ram her elbow against his eye.

He grunted, grip tightening on her trapped wrist. She’d be bruised in the morning.

And while he was busy with that, she lifted her knee again.

He let out a series of curses, and blocked the movement with a thickly muscled thigh between her legs and rammed it straight up until her feet lifted off the ground.

It hurt, but she didn’t scream, which was a victory of sorts.

She lashed out with her free hand, fingers clawed.

With a lazy swipe, he snatched her fist out of the air before it could rake his cheeks. “Stop.”

She did not, tugging experimentally and twisting.

She was trapped, her feet dangling uselessly several inches off the ground. And he was a Prime. Not good.

“Stop moving,” he grumbled.

“Let me go, and I will.”

Holding her wrists with one hand, he slapped a palm over her mouth. She glared at him. A face of hard sharp angles bathed in moonlight, and the silver tapitum lucidem of his retinas, glowing in the night.

Chest heaving, her nose filled with the toxic smell of him.

It had been a long time since she’d smelled a Prime from this close. As in years.

Had they always smelled this good? Like the breeze off the river on those rare days when the river didn’t smell like dead-bodies and garbage. He smelled like…heaven, and sex, and candy, and soap all rolled into one.

He smelled clean. And healthy. Like…well, a Prime. That was the point. They controlled felanas like her even when they didn’t try to. And usually they tried to.

A bead of sweat trailed down the back of her neck.

“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. If you scream, I’ll knock you unconscious. Understand?”

He held her gaze until she nodded. There was no one to scream for anyway.

“Why were you watching us?” His voice rumbled, scarcely more than a purr, and it did things to her deep down inside. Things she really didn’t want to explore, because the answers there were way too scary to consider. She still had time. Her next heat wasn’t due for