Keeper (Matefinder Next Generation Book 1) Read Free Page A

time. She didn’t remember her dad, only had stories, pictures, and a handful of videos to go by. But her mom, her mom had lost her mate. This day always threw Aunt Emma into a funk. To clear the funk, she stayed up all night baking.
    She shrugged. “Fine, but mom is a bit depressing.”
    I decided to change the subject. “I had that dream again, about the guy.”
    Avery gave me a coy smile. “The hottie?”
    Before I could answer, the sound of crunching gravel made us all turn. “Hottie? Talking about me?” Mason asked, then flashed us a dimple-filled grin.
    We all laughed. Mason looked like he could be Jax and my brother instead of our cousin. Tall, caramel skin, light brown hair, and blue eyes.
    “You wish,” I shot back as he gave me a fist bump and snuck a kiss on Avery’s cheek.
    He and Jax started pushing each other and wrestling on the ground. Guys were so weird. Why did they always feel the need to show off?
    I leaned into Avery. “Jax thinks the dream guy is my mate,” I whispered.
    Her perfectly manicured eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. Out of all the possible things she and I had thought of, we never thought he could be my mate.
    “He said so in front of my dad!” I added.
    Avery shook her head, her long red hair settling on her shoulders. “That’s Jax. Diarrhea of the mouth. But he might be right.”
    Shit. What the hell were best friends for? She shouldn’t be agreeing with Jax. Dream guy was human and I was twenty years old. He couldn’t be my mate. I didn’t think I was ready, even if he was.
    “So, what are you going to do?” Avery whispered.
    I shrugged. “We’re going to see the witches.”
    Before she could answer, I heard Aunt Emma.
    “Hi, kids. Thanks for coming.” Aunt Emma came out onto the front porch and greeted us. You wanna talk about weird? Emma only looked about twenty-five years old; her and Avery could be twins. She wasn’t my real aunt. That would make Avery and Jax cousins. Gross. But close enough, her and my mom were there for each other through thick and thin. The whole pack was like one big, happy family. We had each other’s back through everything.
    Her red pixie haircut and green eyes were so Avery but her normally vibrant features looked dull and sad. It must be awful living on forever without your mate. Raising your child without them. I couldn’t imagine.
    “Hey, Aunt Emma, did you make those lemon squares for after?” Jax asked her, smoothing his hair from his wrestling match with Mason, and practically drooling at the thought of her amazing lemon squares.
    Emma gave him a sly smile. “Of course I did. I know they’re your favorite.” She winked at him.
    Emma motioned us to follow her and we all walked to the backyard where Uncle Devon’s gravestone was. My parents weren’t there yet but Uncle Max, Aunt Tara, and their sixteen-year-old daughter Chelsea was.
    Chelsea came over to sit with us while Emma greeted Max and Tara. “Did she make the lemon things?” she whispered to Avery as my mom and dad approached.
    Avery nodded to Chelsea, smiling. These lemon squares were seriously like werewolf crack; we devoured them. She made hundreds every year, every holiday.
    ‘Hurry up, it’s starting,’ my dad sent to the pack. The fact that he could speak into all of our minds simultaneously was pretty freaky but also very convenient.
    Over a hundred of our pack mates began to trickle in through the trees, and walked over to crowd around the grave. That wasn’t the entire pack, but it was the only ones who knew Devon before. Max, my father’s best friend and third in command handed my dad a beer and they clinked glasses and started chugging. That was their manly way of remembering Devon without hugging and crying, I guess.
    My dad stood on a large boulder next to the headstone and looked down on all of us.
    “Today we gather to remember a great man! A hero, an amazing husband, loving father, and a damn good friend.” My father’s voice carried