their…companionship, but Mason wanted nothing to do with it. He’d even put a stop to much of the insanity that took place within the group.
When he had risen to power, eliminating the previous alpha in a fight, Mason had vowed to change the club. For too long it had been known as a den of thieves and shady characters, but he knew better than that. The last leader had been too lenient, allowing crimes to take place that should have been stopped long before. He had grown corrupt from the money and power, choosing to ignore indiscretions that put them all at risk.
Mason had finally snapped. Three years ago, at just twenty-four years old, he stood up during a pack meeting and stared down the old leader. Although the man was in his late 60s, he had years of fighting experience and was arguably the most powerful member there. It was suicide to fight him, but Mason hadn’t cared. He knew things needed to change.
“You aren’t fit to serve as our leader anymore,” Mason said, his jaw clenched so tightly that he thought his teeth would shatter. “And you have cowed this pack into submission, turned brave men into cowards. You have no right to power.” He drew a deep breath and spoke words he could never turn back from. “ Amat victoria curam.”
A wave of murmurs rose around the room, punctuated by a few gasps. Jackson had met Mason’s eyes from across the room, staring at him without comprehending.
Mason had just challenged the leader for his position, and it was an almost unheard-of act. The leader had risen from his seat, turned on a heel, and walked outside. Mason followed him wordlessly, as the entire group of people rose and followed them both out to see what would happen.
When Mason reached the exterior of the building, it had not been a man waiting for him, but a massive black bear.
I rubbed my eyes, weary and heavy after spending the evening working. I had been trying to finish a last-minute assignment from one of my American clients, and it had taken everything I had to stay awake long enough to wrap up the final leg of the project. The pay would be well worth it, but I suffered through sleep deprivation in order to get it done.
My phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my seat; after living the first half of my life without a phone, I still wasn’t used to the unfamiliar warble of the device. I picked it up and answered; my friend, Maria, was on the other line. She was one of the few people I could consider to be my friend; we’d known each other since childhood. “Kat! What’s up?” she asked, her bubbly voice bleeding enthusiasm, even through the phone. I couldn’t help but smile when I talked to her.
“Me, but only barely. I just managed to finish up a project for one of my clients, and I’m going to be going to sleep pretty soon.”
I could hear her tsking on the other end. “You work entirely too hard, you know that?”
I shrugged. “Can’t help it. There’s not exactly many job opportunities around here, after all.”
“That’s true,” Maria said. “But I have something for you that may be of interest. Or maybe not.”
Well, that piqued my interest. “What do you mean?”
“Have you heard of mail order brides?”
The term rang a bell, but I was entirely sure what it meant. “I think so, but I don’t exactly know how that applies.”
“Mail order brides are women who essentially sell themselves. You find a man, and if you like him, the two of you get married — and he takes care of you.”
The whole idea sounded preposterous to me. Who would actually do that? “What kind of men use mail order brides?” I asked. “Probably only old perverts.”
I cold almost hear Maria shrug. “It’s worth a shot. You should consider it; it could be your ticket out of Russia and to a better life, after all.”
We spoke for a little while longer over mostly banal topics, but the call ended shortly after that. At first, I didn’t give much though to what Maria had suggested;