Page 96 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

“I’m Wade,” he said again, brow furrowing, gaze softening.

Words wouldn’t form; I couldn’t respond.

“It’s Nelly, right?” he pressed. The other men didn’t move a muscle. They simply stared at me, their expressions warring between emotions.

“The product’s name is Nelly Shaw.” This from Spider Tattoo, who closed his mouth quickly when two of the Alphas turned in his direction with warning looks.

“Nelly’s a beautiful name,” Wade continued after the interruption.

Something about Wade's gentle tone made me want to respond, to hear my own voice mingle with his, but fear kept me silent. These men owned me now, according to Eros. According to the law.

"Can I... can I remove your hood?" Wade asked, coming a few steps closer. He lifted his hands, hovering them near me but not touching. "Is that okay?"

I flinched away instinctively. Even his careful approach felt too close after the rough treatment.

"It's alright," he assured me, voice dropping to a soothing near whisper. "We're not going to hurt you." His head rotated just enough to glance at the Eros goons, who’d shuffled off to the side after the cuffs were removed. I watched as his eyes grew darker. He projected his next words, ensuring they carried. “No one is going to hurt you now.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Right. You just bought me like a broodmare. But you won't hurt me." My voice was raspy, unfamiliar even to my own ears.

Wade's head snapped back in my direction. His expression shifted, something like guilt flashing across his features. Behind him, the other Alphas exchanged glances.

"We didn't know they'd bring you like this," said another voice.

I looked over to see Wyatt, the second twin. Unlike Wade's gentleness, Wyatt seemed all hardness and sharp edges. "This isn't what we agreed to."

"What exactly did you agree to?" I demanded, finding my voice at last. "Buying a person? Having me delivered like a package?"

My hands trembled with rage as I reached up and yanked the hood back myself, exposing my face fully to the Wyoming sun and to the five men who thought they owned me. The light was almost painful after hours of dimness, but I refused to squint or look away.

Five pairs of eyes widened simultaneously, their reactions shifting like tides. Surprise. Appreciation. Worry. Wanting. Guilt. Hope. Frustration. Even anger. I felt their gazes like physical touches, assessing every feature, every freckle, every strand of ginger hair the wind whipped across my face.

"Jesus," the one with navy eyes and a golden braid pulled over one shoulder said, "They didn't do you justice in the photos."

“Cannavui,” breathed out the other Alpha with braided hair, only his was so much longer and black as raven wings.

Another of the Alphas took a step forward, his almost lilac eyes trained on my face unblinking. “God… you’re finally here… You’re… finally ours.” His voice cracked, his words stopping and starting. He moved closer, and I held up a hand to stop him.

"Back off," I snapped, wrapping my arms around myself despite the warmth of the day. "I'm not here. I’m not your property."

"Actually—" Spider Tattoo began to correct me but was silenced by a collective glare from all five Alphas.

Silence fell over everything. No one moved, like we’d run out of script and were all shit at improv.

Finally, Forehead Vein broke the spell. “Trent, re-fueling’s gonna be done soon.”

At his words, we all seemed to thaw and shift simultaneously. A compact tanker truck was parked beside the plane, fuel hosealready connected and pumping. I hadn’t even heard it arrive, let alone the works moving around the tarmac to prep for the return flight.

“Yes, um,” Spider Tattoo looked uncomfortable. Typical male chauvinist. Lord himself over a woman, but wilt as soon as a bigger man comes onto the playing field. “Originally, we would have delivered the product to your residence and gone through the transfer protocol. Since you all are here and,” his eyes flicked towards me and quickly away again, “have already seen the merchandise, I suppose we can do the transfer paperwork and wrap this up.”

“She isn’t merchandise,” the Alpha with the crow dark hair said slowly, standing a little taller and rolling his shoulders.

“Right, yes. Whatever you say, sir.” Spider Tattoo spilled the words out quickly. He pulled the tablet from where he’d, at some point, tucked it beneath his arm. He flipped open the case’s cover to bring the screen to life. Moments later, he was turning it around and walking quickly towards the Alphas. One by one, they initialed and signed to prove they’d received me.

The exchange, so much like accepting a package from the post, disgusted me.

I looked away, unable to stomach the sight of five men signing for me like I was a piece of mail. Their voices murmured in the background, legal jargon mixing with the steady hum of the refueling truck.

"I'll need to document the condition upon arrival," Spider Tattoo said, holding up the tablet. "Just a few photos. Standard procedure. Though, normally the hood is in place."