Sold by My Cousin A Tribal Nightmare

My cousin Jeanette Finch talked me into ditching my holiday train ticket and riding home with her boyfriend instead.

I wanted to say no, but she kept pushing until I gave in.

I dozed off the moment I got in the car. When I woke up, I was in the middle of a remote valley.

A circle of men surrounded me, telling me I was going to bear their children.

I spotted the tattoos on their arms and my blood went cold. They were the mark of the Crowe Tribe.

My boyfriend Declan Crowe was the young heir of the Crowe Tribe. Somehow, impossibly, I'd ended up in his homeland.

……

"Look at those hips. Built for making sons."

"Pick one of us, sweetheart. He'll be your husband tonight."

The men crowding around me leered without shame, eyes crawling over my body like they were seconds away from taking what they wanted.

I scanned their faces in a panic, and my gaze caught again on the identical tattoo inked into every one of their arms.

I knew that tattoo too well.

Declan had the same one on his arm, except his was red. Theirs were black.

I'd asked him once what it meant.

He'd been honest with me. It was the symbol of the Crowe Tribe, and he was their young heir. He'd even joked about bringing me back to be his mountain bride.

"Where's my cousin? And her boyfriend?"

"What did you do to them?!"

I whipped my head left and right but couldn't find either of them. Fear knotted tight in my stomach.

Declan had told me once that the people in his tribe were still stuck in the old ways. Because men outnumbered women, they practiced polyandry: one wife, multiple husbands.

Some of the tribesmen would even use the gold mines to lure women in.

But he'd sworn that didn't happen anymore.

So what the hell was going on?

"You mean the traffickers? They took their gold and left a long time ago. Off spending it somewhere nice, I'd imagine."

A bald man rubbed his chin, grinning at me like I was something amusing.

"Traffickers? What are you talking about?"

I scrambled to my feet and tried to push past them, but not a single one of them moved an inch.

The bald man shoved my shoulder, impatience flashing across his face.

"Sun's going down. Pick one, or we'll all take a turn."

"Ha ha Haha! "

The circle of men erupted in laughter.

"You're the Crowe Tribe, right? Your young heir is my boyfriend!"

The laughter died. Every man went still.

For one heartbeat I thought I'd actually scared them. Then the bald man's palm cracked across my face and I hit the ground.

His boot came down on my chest, pressing until I couldn't breathe.

"Using the young heir's name to lure women here is the oldest trick in the trafficker playbook."

"You women are all the same. You hear about our gold mines and come running with your tongues hanging out."

"Since you won't pick, tonight we all get a turn."

"We'll show you what Crowe men are made of."

Before I could scream, he grabbed me like a rag doll and slung me over his shoulder.

"My boyfriend isn't a trafficker! His name is Declan Crowe. He IS your young heir. Just bring him here and ask him!"

I beat my fists against the bald man's back, thrashing, desperate to break free.

"You dare speak our young heir's name out loud? You must be tired of living!"

He hurled me off his shoulder. I slammed into the ground chest-first, and white-hot pain tore through my ribs.

"Where did an outsider woman even hear our young heir's name? Speaking it is a punishable offense. Did nobody tell you that?"