My ex-fiancé, Andrew, and my sister's fiancé, Brian, were powerful men, state senator and chief of staff, constantly parading us, the last two Spirit Weavers of our tribe, as their exotic, sacred accessories.
But when a corporate militia captured us in a desolate cannery, and the men we loved finally showed up, it wasn't to save us.
Terrified for an ambitious intern, Molly Johns, Andrew and Brian screamed to save her, not us.
Then, with cameras rolling, they participated in our brutal torture, nailing our hands to pillars, sawing off my sacred tribal tattoo, tearing my sister' s heirloom earring, and finally, spiking our feet to the ground, leaving us crippled and bleeding for our new captors.
The pain was agonizing, but the betrayal cut deeper. How could the men who claimed to love us mutilate us so cruelly, casting us aside like trash for their political careers? Why did they choose that girl over us, over our ancestral land, over everything?
Just as we were dragged toward a windowless van, a deafening roar filled the air: the Iron Totems MC, led by my childhood friend, Rufus, and my sister's, Caleb, crashed through the police barricade. They rescued us, but then revealed the truth: this entire nightmare was their calculated plot to expose Andrew and Brian, to free us from their poisonous control, and to finally allow us to reclaim our power.
