“What do you mean I have thirty days to find a mate? Who came up with this fucking law?” Calder slammed his fist against his desk, outraged by the ridiculous demand that had been forced on him.
Alex ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. “Bastards. I knew they were going to try to find some way to keep you from being Alpha.”
“Calder, I’m sorry. The Council should have known this was a requirement, but we didn’t. The last copy of Twisted Tail laws we had on hand were outdated, and many of them predate Griffin’s reign—not that this law isn’t archaic. It is, but unfortunately, it exists. And now that it’s been brought up as a challenge to the legitimacy of you being Alpha, there’s no escaping it. It’s pack law. The Alpha must uphold the rules of the pack. Especially the ones that pertain to mating.”
Calder saw the sadness in his dear friend’s eyes. Gus Eklund—or ‘old man,’ as he often teasingly called him—was more than just a friend, more than a mentor. The older man had watched over him for years, acting as an informal uncle with whom he’d enjoyed a close relationship. It was Gus who had lead the charge for Calder to take the reins at Twisted Tail after the death of their former Alpha Griffin Engle.
“I know Gus. I just don’t know how it’s possible. Thirty days isn’t a lot of time to find your true mate.”
“No, it’s not. But I don’t think it’s impossible. I think it can be done. You’re just going to need a little bit of help.”
Calder laughed at the thought of someone helping him to find his mate. “I think you’ve finally lost it, old man. I’m not so sure that’s how it works in this day and age. I don’t think I can send a proxy to find or claim my mate, and Odin knows I can’t leave pack territory right now. Not with all the work that needs to be done around here. Besides, I haven’t named a second-in-command yet. I’m quite literally stuck here until I set up a proper chain of command.”
Gus pulled a large manila envelope from his briefcase and handed it to Calder. “I want you to know the Council is dedicated to helping you succeed, and to helping everyone here at Twisted Tail. We’ve set up a trust that you may use as you see fit to rebuild the pack. This should help when it comes to hiring people to make the needed repairs across the territory, and any other maintenance work that needs to be done. I’m sure it will help motivate those within the pack to get back to work as well, if they are able-bodied. Our hope was to provide the necessary means to get the work done; that way we could free up your time, so you can focus on rebuilding and strengthening the pack itself, not just the buildings and structures.”
Calder sucked in a deep breath and opened the envelope, unsure of the extent of what Gus’s statement meant. A volley of emotions bounded through him. “Thank you, Odin,” Calder said to his wolf.
The old man had come through for him, big time, in ways he’d never envisioned. Money was nothing to the Council. Having been around for thousands of years with the ability to operate in complete secrecy, they had more than they’d ever need, more than they could ever hope to spend. But to a struggling pack like Twisted Tail it meant their continued survival. Not only had the Council made sure they would survive—if Calder played his cards right, they would now have an opportunity to thrive.
“I don’t know what to say. This is—” Calder’s words tumbled out of his mouth.
“It’s nothing. Get your pack together and on its feet again. It’s the least we can do for the people here, after failing them by believing everything Griffin told us and not following through when we had doubts or questions. The hardships this pack has had to endure are over. I know if anyone can lead this pack into a new era, it’s you.”
“Thank you, but I’m afraid none of it will do much good if I don’t find my mate before I run out of time.”
“That’s what they’re counting on.” Alex, who had been silent during the exchange between Gus and Calder, finally spoke up.
“What do you know about this?” Gus asked.
“Not enough. They tend to zip their lips around me these days. But from what I’ve been able to figure out, Jason and a few others—who lived pretty comfortably under Griffin—are pissed the money and drugs are gone, and so is their way of life. They thrived under Griffin because they were a bunch of thugs. Now that they have to get out there and work—well, they’re not too happy about it. What they’re too stupid to see is how much better off we’ve been since Griffin’s death. People are no longer afraid to let their kids outside to play. Women can walk around town without being bombarded with crude comments or fearing for their safety. The difference is night and day.”
“The transformation in the last few weeks has been pretty amazing,” Calder said. “It’s nice to see people learning to trust each other again and kicking the fears they carried for so long to the curb. We can’t slow the progress that’s been made, and if I leave for any amount of time to run off and search for a mate, I expect it’ll be like taking ten steps backward. Not exactly what we want to happen.”
Gus nodded in agreement. “Right. So you have to find your mate in thirty days, and you can’t leave pack territory.”
“Exactly.” Calder rubbed his forehead, a stress-induced habit he had picked up long ago.
“So we do the only thing we can do.” Gus pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to Calder.
“Paranormal Dating Agency? What’s this?”
“If anyone can find your mate by the deadline, it’s Gerri Wilder. She’s the best of the best, and you need to give her a call.”
“You can’t be serious.” Calder laughed at his friend’s suggestion.
“As a heart attack, kid.”
“A dating agency? How the hell is that supposed to help? It’s not like I can run out and meet up with however many women they have on their list.”
“She’s the only one who can help you right now.” Gus reiterated his point.
“Great. I’m going to end up with a weird mail-order bride or a psycho or something.” Calder picked up the phone and shooed everyone out of the room. “This is embarrassing enough. I don’t need an audience.”