Page 28 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

The big vehicle rocked as they launched toward me. Equipment rattled on the counters, something rolled across the floor and shattered against the base of the chair, and the Eros rep had to steady herself holding a countertop.

“Maybe you going first wasn’t the right move,” Levi muttered, taking in the damage.

"I didn't mean to," I said again, feeling my face burn with shame. I was a grown man, an Alpha, part-owner of a successful ranch, and here I was knocking people over because I couldn't handle a simple blood draw.

“Is he okay?” I directed this question to the female tech helped her colleague to his feet. He looked shaky but managed a weak smile.

"I'm fine. It happens more often than you'd think. Maybe not quite so... forcefully, though.” He straightened his posture, telling the other tech she didn’t need to support him anymore.

Cooper stepped closer to me, his voice low. "You want us to stay? Help you through this?"

The question should have offended my Alpha pride, but instead, it filled me with relief. I gave a short, jerky nod, unable to put into words how grateful I was for the offer. I'd faced down wild animals, weathered brutal Wyoming winters, worked from sunrise to sunset without complaint, but this—this was my kryptonite, and I wasn't too proud to admit I needed backup.

"Perhaps we should all take a moment," the Eros representative suggested, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "And then?—"

"I’m ready. Just get it over with," I interrupted firmly, sitting back in the too small chair. I looked up and locked gazes with Levi and Coop. “You’re going to have to hold me down.”

They exchanged a glance, before positioning themselves on either side of me, their hands firm on my shoulders, their weight anchoring me to the chair. Their familiar scents—cinnamon, pine, the sweet scent of wildflowers, damp aspen leaves—helped ground me, but my heart still raced like a wild mustang. My own scent had soured from stress.

"It's okay, big guy," Cooper murmured. "We've got you."

Levi's grip tightened slightly. “Just look at one of us. Don’t try to think about it.”

They weren’t my scent match Omega, but they were my mates. I couldn’t imagine life without them, enduring moments like this alone.

The female tech approached cautiously, carrying what looked like padded restraints. She held them up, a question in her gaze. My stomach lurched at the sight of the cuffs, but I forced myself to nod. “Put them on.”

"Are you certain, Mr. Atwood?" she asked, hesitating.

"Just do it," I grit out. My Alpha pride was already in tatters; what was one more blow? "I don't want to hurt anyone else."

She efficiently strapped my arms to the chair, then secured a wider band across my chest, working around Cooper and Levi who both refused to budge. The restraints weren't tight enough to be painful, but they were firm enough that I couldn't easily break free. Part of me wanted to test them, to see if I could snap the material with a surge of Alpha strength. I resisted the impulse.

The male tech approached now, though he kept a cautious distance. A fresh needle package was in his hand, and I noticed he'd changed his gloves. Probably had to after being knocked across the room. Guilt stabbed through me again.

“Just be quick.” I closed my eyes, focused on my pack brothers’ firm touches.

I felt the tourniquet again, the cool swipe of alcohol, and then Levi's voice close to my ear. "Breathe, Boone. Just keep breathing."

The pinch when it came was sharp but brief. I flinched hard enough that the chair creaked, my entire body going rigid. A sound escaped me—not quite a growl, not quite a whimper—something called by baser instincts. My eyes squeezed shut tighter, colorful spots dancing behind my lids. I could feel the subtle pressure as the needle drew blood, could sense the tech moving, changing vials. One, then another, then a third. How much did they need?

Cooper's hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my neck, massaging gently.

Finally, the needle was withdrawn, and a cotton ball pressed to the site. My eyes fluttered open, relief washing through me in a dizzying wave. It was over. I'd survived.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" Cooper said, his trademark grin returning. "Now we just?—"

"We still need the scent samples," the female tech interrupted, brandishing a small handheld device. "From all four glands."

My relief evaporated. I’d forgotten this part. Both blood and scent were sacred bodily fluids, yet the latter felt more intrusive to take. They were harvesting me, putting me in a database. My people taught that a person's essence—their breath, blood, saliva, sweat, pheromones—was part of their spirit. To give these things away carelessly was to give away pieces of your soul.

This isn’t careless, I reminded myself.

This is my pack’s future.

A low growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it. "What exactly does that involve?"

She grimaced. “Basically… the same.” She held up the thing that looked like a black remote. “Gland finder, sort of works like a vein finder. Mostly we need an idea of position and depth. Going too deep could cause damage. Eros developed this so we didn’t have to carry around ultrasound tech.”