Page 95 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

A switch flipped.

Mine.

They commanded the world around them with purposeful strides, Alpha aura a literal cloud that if I squinted just right, I could see shimmering around them. They flowed forward with the confidence that came with knowing the seas would part for them. They walked like they owned the world, and they’d come to claim the one thing they’d been denied up until now.

Me.

As they closed the distance, their mingled scents grew stronger.

Fertile soil.

Morning dew on honeysuckle.

Campfire.

Leather.

Whiskey and everything wild.

My own scent betrayed me, pluming out in a heady cloud that made both Beta goons sniff involuntarily.

I reached up without thinking to push the hood off.

When the edge of the shimmering cover was just below my nose, Spider Tattoo’s hand flashed into my sightlines. He managed to slap my face with a lowering rush of his flattened palm, while also pushing my cuffed hands downward to prevent the veil from shifting higher. Both my nose and right cheek stung, and my wrists screamed at the jarring movement which made the digging restraints shift against the tender skin.

I stumbled, but Forehead Vein’s impossibly firm grip kept me upright.

Spider Tattoo leaned into me. I arched away as much as possible when he began to speak in a voice that only promised one thing—pain.

“These country boys paid millions for you, and they expect their merch to be as advertised. So, keep the fucking hood on and your mouth shut. If you botch this hand-off, the penalties will come out of our paycheck. If that happens,” he paused, coming a fraction closer, “you’ll cover the loss with that Omega body of yours before we hand you back to Eros.”

“Go ahead, asshole,” I seethed, “You think you’re scary? I’m used to Alphas. You’re just a Beta someone bosses around.”

His hand cocked back, and I closed my eyes, bracing to be hit.

“Touch her one more time. I fucking dare you.” A new voice joined our trio. Deep, rumbling, thunder before a storm.

My Omega stretched and perfumed the air, but I didn’t open my eyes. With certainty, I knew it was one of the Alphas. One of my Alphas. Saving their merchandise from damage.

“Sir, the product is being?—”

“Take the handcuffs off our Omega.” Came another voice; this one was warm, smooth, and thick as honey.

“We were forced to restrain her on the?—”

“You were forced to restrain a woman that’s half your size?” This one was all animal, snarls tattering the edges of syllables.

“If we hadn’t, she’d have?—”

“Every second those handcuffs stay on, is another second I debate whether you should stay alive or not.” This was lightning. Striking. Precisely. No games, no empty threats. Just a bolt of warning.

“Yes, sir. Yes, we’ll take them off right now.” I thought it was Spider Tattoo who was now falling over himself trying to make my Alphas happy. His voice was higher, shifting into a subservient tone.

I opened my eyes, staring down at the fumbling fingers trying to unlock the restraints. When they fell away from my aching, indented wrists I sighed in relief, rubbing gently at the purple bruises. The tennis bracelets slid up and down as I shifted, working out the lingering pain, scraping gently across tender spots. Frowning, I violently yanked off the jewelry. They fell to the tarmac, clinking sharply, the stones catching sun rays. They were probably expensive, but right now they only felt like a second set of restraints.

“Are you okay?” The question was measured, each word weighed carefully.

I blinked up through the shimmering hood, finding a set of forest green eyes set into a tanned face. He smiled softly, revealing a slight gap in his front teeth. My heart hiccupped, giving a jerky bounce in my chest.