Free Furever After by Arielle Lewenhart

The snow drifted from the overcast sky, a silent reminder of my isolation. The clouds, sleet gray, reached as far as I could see in every direction. There was not a sound to be heard anywhere; even the fire burning in the fireplace seemed quiet. I knew that outside the walls of my home, it would be no different; the snow would muffle my footsteps, mask my presence, and make it seem as though I were the last person on the planet.
    Even if I were desperate for sound, walking through the snow would provide me with nothing but the still crunch of the powder as it compressed underneath my boots — and even my foot print would be gone within a few minutes. The winter was a stark reminder that I was moving through this world without leaving a trace of myself behind. If I were to vanish today, no one would notice.
    I am lonely.
    My name is Katya Sharapova. I’ve lived here, in the isolated reaches in northern Russia, a few degrees south of the Arctic Circle, for all of my twenty-one years on this Earth. Despite having a rather lively childhood and upbringing, I’ve always known my future would be different than I hoped.
    As a young girl, I dreamed of living an exciting life — traveling around the globe, seeing these locales I’ve read about so many times in books and stories. I wanted to meet a nice man who would be not only a good husband, but also my best friend throughout life.
    But then my sister married her long-time boyfriend and moved with him to Moscow. We rarely saw her after that. My aging parents became unable to move with the ease they once did, and I took over as caretaker, not only of the house, but also of them.
    When they passed away, I was left with my childhood home, but little else. My village was so remote that we did not have access to the internet; it’s only been in the past several years that cable lines reached this far, connecting us to the rest of the world. Many of the villagers are elderly and refuse to use computers, not understanding the way electricity works and viewing it almost as a form of magic.
    My parents were always very straightforward with me and encouraged education, something which was nearly unheard of for girls in my village. I understand how these things work, and I’ve begun to use my new-found internet access to learn more, as well as to pick up small-time jobs through various web organizations. It’s not much money, but it’s enough to get by on.
    I fend for myself well enough, but it does get lonely here. With so few people my own age in the village, there isn’t much chance for socialization…or for meeting men my age. I’m in no rush to have children, but I would like the chance to start a family, to start a new life somewhere away from this tiny town. I just don’t know how that’s possible.
     
    Mason felt the glass shatter in his hand, ignoring the searing pain as a shard broke the flesh. “What did you say?” His voice emerged in a growl, low and dangerous, and Jackson took an involuntary step backwards.
    “I said that you have to choose a mate. And soon.”
    Mason glared at his friend for a moment longer, then spun and walked out of the room. He was angry, and it wasn’t Jackson’s fault. He didn’t want to take his rage out on his friend. Instead, he would love to find the Elders and tear their heads from their bodies. Those hidebound old fogies didn’t know when to let go of long-outdated traditions and embrace the new age.
    Mason did. He was the Alpha now. He was leader of the Tartarus MC. His enemies knew him as the Brimstone Bear. And yet he was supposed to bow to a 300 year old tradition, choosing a mate when he by no means wanted one? What kind of foolishness was that?
    Blood began to drip from his hand, and Mason stared at it in disgust. The idea of forced mates was abhorrent to begin with, and it didn’t help that the types of women who hung around Tartarus were the last ones he would choose as a partner. Some of his men may have enjoyed