Page 8 of A Pack of Mistletoe
“They arranged a bonding with the Blackbear Pack.”
Kai looks like he’s been slapped.
“That’s ominous. Why can’t packs have names like the Bunny Pack or the Cheery Pack?” Evander mutters.
“The Blackbear Pack is part of the Russian mob. They’ve already bonded three omegas. None lasted more than a year.” Kai’s voice is grim. “They all met horrible ends.”
Harlan shifts. Wyatt frowns. Logan crosses his arms. Even Evander has nothing to say.
“Your father was fine selling you to a pack like that?” Harlan asks.
“My father was fine selling me for the right price,” I reply coldly.
Harlan takes a deep breath. “Any terms?”
I blink, confused.
“You need protection. Anything else?”
“Okay.” I gather my thoughts like snow in my hands. “I’ll pretend to be bonded, however long that takes, but I will not actually bond to you. I didn’t escape one bond to be trapped in another.”
Kai flinches.
My heart cracks, but I stand by it. “I also want to live here. If you want me to pretend—do whatever it takes to convince the media and your cousin—” I gesture to Logan, who shifts uncomfortably, “then we live here.”
“Here?” Wyatt asks. “Like, at the hotel?”
I roll my eyes. “No, in Lakeside Point. My whole life is here. My job. My friends. It’s the first thing that’s ever been mine. But my family is close to finding out where I am. So either I do this, or I leave. And if I leave, it won’t be in a fake bond. So if you want me, it’s here.”
Evander unexpectedly comes to my side, kneeling by my chair so that we're eye level. “And living here means so much to you that you’ll pretend to be bonded?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. Haven’t they ever had a home? I hadn’t—not until I came here two years ago. I won’t give it up for anything. “That, and not having to look over my shoulder anymore.”
“Won’t your friends notice if you go from being a beta to an omega?” Logan asks, his voice cold, his fists clenched.
“I’ll worry about that. No one will say anything, I promise.” I have no idea if that’s true, but I’ll do my best.
“This isn’t short term,” Logan warns. “We need a bonded omega by the new year or we lose the business we built with the inheritance my father left me. There will be press and family scrutiny. We’ll all have to sell it. In a few months, once it’s out of the papers, we can begin to drift apart. But until then it has to look one hundred percent legitimate.”
Harlan shoots him a look I can’t parse. Logan goes quiet.
“I understand,” I say. “I can do this, if you can keep me safe.”
Harlan grunts. “I can handle Enrique Morales. And I understand how Blackbear works. They're most likely to take out a broken deal on your father.”
I nod, though something in his gaze makes me squirm.
“What about bites? How the fuck do we fake bites?” Evander asks. Him being this close is too much. His sharp jaw and sparkling smile were pretty hard to resist from across the room but close up he’s something likea Greek statue, chiseled and cut just right. I fight the urge to run my hands through his multicolored waves. Something in my expression must give me away, because he winks. My face flames.
“I’ve discreetly looked into it—we could—”
“Tattoos,” Harlan interrupts. “I’ve got a guy who can do that.”
I deflate, but Harlan’s shrug is friendly.
“So you’ll pretend to be bonded to us, with tattoos. You’ll live with us and play the part of our omega anytime we’re in public. You’ll do this until the clause is satisfied in a year. We can start drifting apart in six months. In exchange, we’ll protect you from your family and make it clear you’re off the market to the Blackbear Pack. Is that all?” Harlan asks, summarizing with brutal clarity.
“Is thatall?” I squeak in indignation. “Isn’t that enough?”
