Page 94 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys
He shrugged. "Just saying. Five of them, one of you. Law's on their side. Biology's on their side. Might want to accept your situation and make the best of it. Unlike us, they don’t have to treat you kindly.”
"Welcome to Wyoming.” Forehead Vein’s voice cut in. "Your new owners are waiting."
He was standing beside the flight attendant I’d only seen for a fleeting moment. The entry door—now exit—was alreadypropped open. We’d not taxied far. We’d landed, slowed, and come to a stop. The engines were cut, the sound quickly fading.
Owners.The word settled like acid, burning through my veins with every heartbeat.
They could call themselves my matches, my Alphas, my destiny all they wanted.
In the end, they were just five men who thought they could buy a woman, share her, and breed her.
Well, they weren't getting what they paid for.
They were getting me. Nelly Shaw.
And I wouldn't break easily.
23
NELLY
Hello, Wyoming...
Wyoming hit me as I stumbled from the climate-controlled cabin, down the plane stairs, and onto the tarmac. The air was dry, parching my throat as I breathed. It smelled clean though, the way the outdoors should. I’d been in big cities so long that I’d forgotten what the world could smell like away from skyscrapers and exhaust fumes.
My bound hands throbbed in rhythm with my racing heart, the cuffs trying to cut deeper with each involuntary movement.
Forehead Vein and Spider Tattoo flanked me like prison guards. The latter holding a tablet and controlling the speed of our descent down the plane steps, while the other cast a dark shadow over me from behind. I squinted against the sunlight, eyes protesting after the dim interior of the cabin. At first, the sun seemed to hover in the exact same position as it had before we’d taken flight, then it popped up into proper place as my vision adjusted. It had been morning when we’d left Seattle then,not late afternoon. Wyoming… an hour ahead. Around noon, maybe.
The ascent was nearly complete.
Three steps more to go.
Then two.
The last.
And my sandaled feet touched down on this different tarmac, its surface cracked and ill-kempt compared to the Seattle one. I shuffled a little, letting the soles of my body feel my new surroundings through the thin shoes. Fractured. Uneven.
“Walk,” one of the men said, I wasn’t sure which. The entirety of my focus was on orienting to this new landscape. To the blue-grey mountains beyond the trees. To the bright, endless sky so different from Seattle’s smoggy offering.
When I didn’t move fast enough, I was shoved in the back. I stumbled a little, ankles wobbling in the delicate sandals which were so impractical in this situation. The slinky dress fluttered around my calves, its expensive fabric catching a sudden breeze. My coppery curls flowed from beneath the face-concealing hood. Rebellious strands used the light wind to lift and stick to my mouth. I reached up with throbbing, captured hands and hooked a finger to pull the hair from my lips. When I glanced down, I saw a smear of coral across my skin. Lipstick someone else had applied, in a color I’d never wear.
“Told you to walk.” The voice was ahead of me. Spider Tattoo.
I blinked. He was turned, looking at me with unveiled irritation.
Had I stopped moving?
Yes, I had. I was still as a statue, positioned only a few yards from the steps.
Somewhere in the distance, a propeller engine sputtered to life, the sound bouncing off the hangers and tiny terminal nearby. I wish I were on that plane readying to leave Wyoming.I wish I hadn’t just arrived at the start line of this new challenge. I’d give anything to cross the finish line now, whatever that finish line might look like, and be out of this situation.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be. Behind me, Forehead Vein grumbled in a low voice before gripping the back of my upper arm. His fingers dug in hard enough to make me gasp. “And the damn clients are watching.”
He nodded his head, indicating a direction. My eyes snapped up, anxiety blooming through every part of me. Five figures walking towards the plane. They moved as a unit, the one in front slightly ahead of the others. As they came closer, I recognized the pack leader as one of the twins. I was glad for the hood’s protection as my eyes began to rove over each of the men slowly. I was glad it hid what I knew my expression would show—instant, chemical desire.
Even at a distance, something inside of me triggered.
