Page 93 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

His eyes darkened. Hunger flashed across his face, making my skin crawl. He leaned closer, his aftershave invading my space.

“Don't tempt me," he said, voice dropping to a whisper thick with perverted need. "Might be willing to lose my job for that.”

Instinct made me go silent. I fixed my gaze past him, on the now dark television screen.

Eventually, he moved away, returning to his seat where he continued watching me with predatory interest. The plane began to move. It turned slightly, claiming position.

Its speed picked up.

Faster.

Faster.

The whirl of the turbofans grew louder.

The angle of my body shifted, and my back pushed against the seat’s back cushion.

And then we were in the air.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours. I focused on controlling my breathing. I cataloged every sensation. The pressure in my ears as the plane gained altitude, the constant hum of engines, and the occasional turbulence that lifted my stomach all became my lifelines. Anything to distract from the reality of what awaited me.

When I thought we’d flown so far that we must have circled back to Seattle, the pilot announced we were on approach.

Jackson Hole Airport. Wyoming.

Fifteen minutes later, the wheels touched down.

A phone on the wall rang, startling me so much that my body began to tremble.

Spider Tattoo got up and moved to the wall mounted receiver.

“Trent speaking.”

He waited, listening, then hung up without saying more to the caller.

“Something change?” Forehead Vein asked, still sitting, his arms crossed over his hulking chest.

“Clients pulled a fast one," he informed his partner, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’ll be a direct transfer.”

“Hate it when Alphas think the damn rules don’t apply to them.” Was the growling response.

The men who had bought me were here.

Five of them.

Plus, these two Betas.

Any lingering hope of getting away blew out like a birthday candle.

It had all been smoke and ash anyways; there’d never really been a flame of fight.

Spider Tattoo approached me, leaning down and wrenching the belt free. He left the cuffs.

He tugged me brutally to my feet.

"Bit of advice before we deboard,” he offered, pungent breath slapping against my face. "Don't fight them. These country Alphas, they're not like city boys. They're used to breaking wild things."

I lifted my head slowly to meet his gaze. God, I wish I was bigger. I wish I wasn’t an Omega. "Is that supposed to scare me?"