Page 113 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

The sharp jaw and quiet confidence.

Maybe if life were different, I could have met them another way. We’d start out in a good place, and I wouldn’t hatetheir damn guts. But life wasn’t different. To them, I was merchandise. An Omega prize to be claimed.

I’d die before I let anyone own me.

The entrance to the driveway came into view. I felt like I’d been walking miles already. Funny how stress and anxiety can make distances fell impossibly far, and time impossibly slow. The massive wood poles supporting the overhead sign were harder to see in the night. The carved, rustic letters of ‘Sagebrush Ranch’ were there, but I couldn’t see them above. I stopped beneath the property marker; leaning over to brace hands against my knees as I allowed myself to take a beat. My calves trembled, more so from stress than exertion. The oversized boots had already rubbed raw patches on my heels and ankles. But I'd made it this far. I could easily go further.

I straightened, a shiver running up my spine. I’d paused long enough that the chilly air had time to sink into the fabric of the clothes, getting to my slightly sweaty skin beneath. Rubbing my upper arms briskly, I warmed myself. As I did, the pants tried to slip down my body. I pulled them back securely around my waist, tugging the drawstring even tighter. When I started walking again, every step made the boot-rubbed raw skin tug and rip and peel.

My body wasn’t conditioned for this. I was a dancer. A runner. Endless walking in boots that felt like concrete blocks strapped to my feet was not in my skillset.

Just after the wood ranch sign, the driveway met the dirt road. I hung a left.

My chest felt locked in a vice as I took a few tentative steps down the unpaved road. Suddenly, I didn’t feel sure of my memory. Had we hung a right onto the driveway before? Was I going the wrong way?It doesn’t matter.I shook my head, forcing the doubts away.Any direction’s better than back there. Better than being treated like property, like a prize breedingmare for five men who thought they could buy a human being.The wrong way was still the right way. I’d end up somewhere eventually.

Confidence renewed, I straightened my shoulders and moved faster.

I could do this.

A yard.

Another yard.

And then…

A low, rumbling growl from somewhere in the darkness to my right sounded.

The hair raised on every part of my body, primal fear flooding my system with adrenaline. I froze mid-step, not daring to move, barely breathing.

26

NELLY

Silence fell again, stretching for seconds that felt like hours.Had I imagined it?

Was my mind making monsters? I exhaled slowly, preparing to move again.

I lifted my boot, mere centimeters from the dusty road.

The growl came again, deeper this time, unmistakably real and terrifyingly close. My mouth went dry, heart slamming against my ribs hard enough to hurt.

The Alphas’ warnings rang in my ears.

Wyoming wilderness isn’t Seattle.

Grizzlies.

Mountain lions.

Wolves.

I’d talked a good game, saying I could handle anything this rural land threw at me, but I knew nothing about the predators here. I had no idea what to do if faced with a wild animal bent on wounding me.

A strange whistling chirp followed a third growl; the sound so alien it momentarily confused my fear. Not an owl. Not a bird. What chirping, winged thing would make that kind of sound in the pitch blackness of night?

It was something else…

Something hunting…