by Leia Stone
Jax flexed his left bicep. “I think you are forgetting the most dangerous thing in your arsenal, sister.”
We all laughed as mom squeezed Jax’s arm, feigning in freight.
As I looked around the table, I felt a little sad. I would miss these random five o’clock Chai sessions with my crazy family. But damn, I was ready for some freedom.
‘Hells yeah,’ Jax echoed my sentiments. The twin bond, sometimes he heard my loud thoughts even when I didn’t intend. I gave Jax a knowing smile.
“Twins,” my mom said, addressing us both in her favorite shared word. Why even give us separate names? “You might as well go get ready. Today is Devon’s annual remembrance.”
Jax and I frowned. Shit. I forgot. Poor Avery. Every year we gathered around her dad’s grave to tell stories and remember him. He died saving my mom’s life, and I shuddered thinking that if he hadn’t, Jax and I wouldn’t exist.
Leaning over, I gave my dad a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry about me so much, Pops.’ I winked.
He sighed. ‘Not possible.’
*
After showering, I threw on an all-white Indian top over leggings. In India when honoring the dead, you wore white, not black. It felt more uplifting and Emma appreciated it, so now the whole pack wore white on Devon’s Remembrance Day. Jax and I scarfed breakfast and headed out the door to Avery’s house.
“I think mates are weird,” Jax stated randomly.
I chuckled. “Okay. What do you mean?” As much as we argued and messed with each other, he was my very best friend. We could talk about anything together.
He shrugged as we cut through the woods. “I mean, I’m happy dating Avery right now. We aren’t mates but we are happy. So one day I feel like you are going to touch me and get a vision, and I have to break up with Avery and marry a stranger. Because we’re mates.”
I frowned. “Well, shit, Debbie Downer, when you put it that way it sounds awful.”
He shrugged again. “I’m just saying it’s weird.”
I nodded. “It is a little weird when you put it like that. But remember Dad was dating Aunt Sadie for like five years before Mom. I’m sure they were happy, but–”
“They weren’t mates.” He ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch as we trekked through the thick woods leading from our property to Aunt Emma’s.
“Yeah. I’m sure one day when you meet your mate you will take back those words.” I elbowed him.
“Maybe if she’s hotter than Avery.” He grinned, wagging his eyebrows and showcasing his undeniable charm and male pigness.
I laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. “You pig. That’s not possible.”
As we approached Avery’s house, we saw that she was already outside. She was wearing a short white sun dress and her long deep-red hair fell down across her shoulders in silky waves. She was tall and slender with fair skin, green eyes, and a light smattering of freckles. My bestie was drop dead gorgeous. Hearing our approach, she turned to face us.
“Hey, babe,” Jax greeted her, reaching out and giving her a kiss on the forehead.
She smiled and broke away from Jax to hug me. I inhaled; she smelled like lemon and lavender, like my best friend.
“How’re you doing?” I asked her. It was hard for Avery during this 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 far.
Emma was already tearing up.
“I made Devon a promise before I died. I promised him that his daughter would grow up in a better world.” All eyes landed on Avery where she sat next to us and the pack nodded their heads in respect. My father continued. “A world where vampires didn’t rule. A world where werewolves were fertile and prosperous. A world in which the races could live in peace.”
The pack cried out in agreement. The past twenty years was all that I had ever known. A world where vampires were scarcely seen and used government run programs to get donated blood. Where witches kept off the radar because they weren’t known about and werewolves were mostly tolerated. It was a peaceful existence, tense at times but peaceful. But the past few years
, I had seen a change within the relationship between the humans and werewolves. We were asked to take the marks, the tattoo, in an effort to show we weren’t hiding, that we could be trusted. We were scowled at more in public, spit on sometimes, and called names. The generation that hailed us heroes for saving them from bloodsucking vampires, was gone or too old to care. Now it was a new generation rising up and they didn’t seem to see us in the same light. Our population, once small, was now large and growing, and it was threatening to the humans. Still, things were okay; we were maintaining a peace.
My father continued. “Let’s start by telling stories then we can eat and dance and be happy. That’s what Devon would want,” my dad’s voice boomed, carrying around to all of us.
“Here, here!” everyone shouted.
Uncle Max stood on the boulder. “I remember the first time Devon learned that a female werewolf with similar markings to his had been spotted in Utah.”
Aunt Emma chuckled as a smile lit up her face. Werewolf mates recognized each other because they had exact opposite markings to each other. Hearing of a werewolf with similar markings was exciting.
“He was a mess! He couldn’t figure out what to wear, what to say …”
All of a sudden a weird feeling settled over me. Max’s voice became muffled and my ears were ringing. I couldn’t focus on what he was saying, and shaking my head to clear the noise didn’t help. My vision was blurring and I blinked rapidly as my body started warming up. The fever. In the middle of the day? Then it happened. I was sucked into my first vision. My mother had prepared me for this moment my whole life. What it would feel like, and not to panic, but I was still alarmed. I had no control. Dreams while sleeping were one thing, but a vision in the middle of the day while you were trying to stand upright was scary as hell.
Gone from Emma’s backyard, I now saw my dream guy. But this scene was different from my repeating dream. He was lying in bed, tossing and turning, and it was as if I was standing in the room with him. Shirtless, skin coated in sweat, he continued to thrash. Jesus Christ, he was ripped! Can someone have a ten pack? Is that possible? Suddenly, he bolted awake, sitting up and panting. He looked right at me with an electrifying gaze.
“Somebody help me. What’s happening to me?”
Our eyes locked for a second and my heart hammered in my chest, but then he looked down at his shaking hands.
Stepping closer, I reached out to touch him, to say something, anything to ease his anxiety, but I was pulled out of the vision so fast that nausea slammed into me and I found myself lying in the grass, my head on Jax’s lap. My father, eyes yellow, hovered over me.
“Give her room,” my mom scolded him.
I groaned, sitting up. The entire pack watched me with curiosity and my dad backed up a few inches.
“I’m fine,” I said, but I felt so hot I wanted to take all of my clothes off and jump into the lake. Sweat was rolling down my face and my breathing was labored as I tried to orient myself again. My first vision. Wow. It kinda sucked. I wasn’t sure I liked this gig.
“She’s burning up,” Jax told my mom, who put her hand on my forehead and recoiled.
“This isn’t normal,” my mother told me.
Great. That makes me feel better.
My dad looked alarmed. He turned to address the pack. “Alright everyone, head to my house and start up the grills. I will meet you there in a bit.”
Max and Avery hung back as everyone departed.
I looked into Aunt Emma’s eyes. “I’m sorry I ruined Uncle Devon’s remembrance.”
She smiled. “You didn’t ruin it, sweetheart. You made it interesting. Devon loved interesting.” She winked at me and walked away with Tara and Chelsea.
Shit. This was getting crazy. I never thought these visions would be so debilitating. What if I got one when I was driving or in the middle of a sparring session or something?
My dad reached down and helped me up. “What happened?” he commanded.
I chewed my lip and recounted the vision to him but left out the part that the guy was shirtless and insanely sexy.
At this point, I was pretty much hoping he was my mate because … God damn.
“Help me,” my mom said, replaying the dream guy’s words to me.
“No location? No name? I always got that in my visions,” my mom offered.
I glared at her and shot back, “Guess I’m not as talented as you.” My whole life I had to endure people telling me stories of how amazing my mother was and how she matched them up with their mate and it was so great. I know she didn’t mean to, but it made me feel pressured at being as good of a Matefinder as she was.
She rolled her eyes, dismissing my attitude. “That’s not what I meant. Come on, let’s go see the witches. I don’t want to wait one more second. We need to figure this out.”
My dad and Max simultaneously bristled. “Why do we have to involve them? This is a wolf matter. The Matefinder is for werewolves only,” my father stated and Max nodded his head in agreement.
Dad didn’t exactly like witches. He hated the fact that we all smelled like them and sort of chose to ignore that we were half witch. Uncle Max didn’t care for witches either, but the majority of his hate was reserved for vampires, even the nice ones, which is about all that was left after the race war. My mother simply growled, glaring at Max and my dad.
“Good idea,” Jax said, standing up and getting a snarl from my dad for agreeing with Mom. I snickered. “But one thing first.” Jax ran off into Emma’s house and came out with a handful of lemon squares.
Men. The real way to their heart was through their stomach.
Chapter Two
Mom, Jax, and I pulled up to the coven’s house, which was only a short twenty minute drive from the mountain. Once we were sure no one had followed us, we exited the car. I loved the coven house. It was an amazing grand blue and white Victorian with the biggest wrap-around porch you ever saw. So many protective spells surrounded it; the second you crossed the entrance, you felt a blanket of safety saturate your being.
As we were walking up to the house, my mom pulled my hand and I turned to face her.
“You know I don’t expect you to follow my path. You will find mates however it works for you. You’re a unique, independent woman, and I raised you to do things your own way.” She was staring at me with those intense blue eyes, and dammit, she always knew the right thing to say to make me feel better.
“I know, Mom.” I pulled her in for a tight hug.
Jaxon called out to us from the porch. “What about me? You raised me to be a unique, independent woman, too.”
We both chuckled. Jax was such an ass; the guy could never be taken seriously. Like EVER.
Mom and I joined him on the porch, and after knocking we were met by our coven leader, Gretchen. She was a healing witch and she adored Jax and me. A woman in her sixties with long, silvery hair and green eyes, she wore a bohemian dress and flower crown that made her look like she just stepped out of a Grateful Dead concert. Gretchen had a shit ton of magical power. Head of the coven basically meant ‘Don’t eff with me.’
“My babies!” she crooned, pulling Jax and me in for a hug. We chuckled at her term ‘babies.’
“You do realize we are twenty years old, right, Gretch?” Jax peppered her with his favorite pet name.
She hugged my mom and ushered us inside. “Nope, you will always be my babies.”
My mom looked around the room a little sad but then smiled. Seeing the witches always reminded her of Sylvia, the old coven leader who sacrificed herself to save my mom. Her picture hung on the wall. She had long red hair and vibrant green eyes. My mom said she still visits her in her dreams.
My mom awkwardly cleared her throat. “We have an issue.”
Gretchen sat erect, eyes flashing silver. “Tell me.” Her tone was ominous. Scary.
“Jesus, Mom. Way to freak everyone out. It’s not an issue, per se, it’s a puzzle.” I tried to lighten the mood.
/> Jax pointed at me. “Anya has been dreaming of some hot guy who we think is her mate. Issue is, that he is human and she literally gets burning hot thinking about him. Today she had a vision while awake and he asked for help.”
‘You freaking traitor!’ I shot at him.
‘I’m protecting you,’ he reminded me.
Jesus! He couldn’t have worded that better?
Gretchen stood deadly still. Her eyes went silver as she began to pace the carpet. Silver meant she was in the witch zone and shit was about to go down.
“Are you sure he’s human?” Gretchen finally asked me. Her hazy silver eyes were hypnotic.
“Pretty sure. He is not a vampire, witch, or werewolf. I just know,” I confidently told her.
She nodded, accepting that. “Did he seem hot in any of the dreams? Temperature wise, not looks wise.” She grinned.
Oh my God, how embarrassing!
“Yes, he was dripping sweat in the last one.” My cheeks were red. Kill me now.
“You didn’t say that!” my mom scolded.
Gretchen rubbed her chin. “Interesting.”
Jax mirrored Gretchen with the chin rubbing. I might as well get my all-season pass to freakville now because something was definitely wrong with me.
“I have a theory,” Gretchen finally stated and we all leaned forward in our seats, rapt with attention.
She sighed and locked her silver eyes right on me. “First, that this boy is your mate. Old legend says the Matefinder doesn’t begin to get a vision of other mated couples UNTIL she finds her mate.”
The air whooshed out of me. My mate? Hottie dream guy could be my mate? Holy shit, was I ready for that? I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. Mom caught me smiling and smiled as well. Jax, however, was scowling.
“Secondly,” Gretchen went on, “because of your close mate connection you are feeling what he feels. The heat. Something is wrong with him. He is in trouble.”
Well, shit. Add that to my plate, why don’t you? Could he really be my mate? I mean, my whole life my parents drilled into us how amazing and life-changing it was to meet your mate and how secure and loved up you felt, but now that Gretchen had said it, I was just nervous and didn’t want it to be true.
