Page 6 of The Secret Mate Society

Since then I’d been running both the pack and the garage.As much as I wasn’t really looking forward to it, it was probably for the best.College hadn’t gone super well for me and working at a bar, despite the ease of picking up random women, wasn’t really my thing.Working on cars though, tearing engines apart and fixing them, that was in my blood.Too bad I never got to do any of that.I was stuck managing the place and dealing with shitty customers.

The phone on my desk rang as if on cue, the sound cutting through the cacophony of metal tools and Patrick's continued cursing.I reached for it, eyes still on the stack of invoices I'd been working through.

"Moonlight Motors, this is Calder speaking."

"Hello, I'm calling about my car?The blue Volvo?"The voice on the other end was deep, warm, and strangely melodic.Something about it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.I knew that voice and he was a pain in the ass.

I shuffled through the paperwork until I found the right invoice."Mr.Sullivan, right?Your brake pads were completely shot.We've got them replaced, but we found some issues with your transmission that you might want to address soon."

"Damn," he sighed."Is it drivable?"

"For now, yeah.But I wouldn't put it off too long."

"Yeah, I’m sure it’s fine,” he replied.“I know you mechanics work.Something’s gotta be wrong or you don’t make money.I'll be there in twenty minutes to pick it up."

“That’s fine.You’ll need to sign a release form though, assuming responsibility if something happens.”

“Whatever.”

The line went dead with a clang.I hung up and went back to my paperwork, letting out a long sigh.If he wanted to drive a car that was on the edge of eating all the gears in his transmission, he could pay for it when it broke.I didn’t have time to care about it.

I shifted some paperwork and picked up the phone again, calling the owner of the red SUV.There was a good chance they were gonna be pissed too.They brought it in for a check up and now it needed at least a few hundred dollars in cleaning, repairs, and replacements.Cringing, I dialed the number.

Twenty minutes later I put the phone down, somehow exhausted from having to explain over and over again what had happened.Of course the customer didn’t believe they’d made such a mistake.They tried to blame it on us, then on a dealership, then on their neighbors.But in the end there was only one choice.Get it fixed, or get it towed.They chose to get it fixed.Thank the gods.

“Hey boss,” Trevor said, stepping up to my desk as he wiped his hands on a stained rag.“You want me to do the transmission on the Volvo?”

“No.Dumbass is gonna drive it until it dies.Just run it through the wash and bring it around.He’s on the way.”

“You got it.”He turned to head away, but stopped.“Oh, and there’s a guy waiting for you out back.”

I glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.“A guy?”

“Yeah… not human.Didn’t smell like a werewolf either.Never seen him before.Figured it was Alpha stuff.”

I let out another long sigh, probably the fortieth one that day.“Alright,” I said, shaking my head.“You and Patrick be on guard though just in case things get weird.This is still our territory and I don’t want anyone coming up in here and causing trouble.”

“You got it, boss.”

I pushed back from my desk, stretching as I stood.Being Alpha meant dealing with all kinds of unwelcome visitors—vampires wanting permission to feed in our territory, lone wolves looking to join a pack, or the occasional fae creature trying to negotiate some arcane deal.Whoever this non-human visitor was, I wasn't in the mood for complications.

The back door led to a small fenced area where we kept the dumpsters and sometimes parked cars waiting on parts.Standing there with his back to me was a slender man in a charcoal gray peacoat.He had dark hair cut short on the sides but longer on top, and when he turned to face me, I was struck by eyes so dark they looked almost black.

"Alpha Calder Thorne?"he asked, his voice carrying a slight accent I couldn't place.

"That's me," I replied, crossing my arms."And you are?"

"Elias Ageratum."He didn't offer his hand.Smart.Wolves don't appreciate strangers initiating contact."I represent the Elder Council."

I snorted."What the hell does the Elder Council want with us?We haven’t done anything wrong.”

A smile flickered across his face."You are correct.The Elder Council has sent me as a sort of liaison to communicate with your pack.”He reached into his coat, pulling out a letter and offering it out to me.“This is their first official correspondence.”

I took the letter, but didn’t open it.“Anything else?”I asked rather gruffly.

“Not at this time,” he nodded.“However, the council will be awaiting a reply.So please be sure to call me when you’re ready to respond.”

“And how would I do that?”