Page 23 of A Shifter Disaster Thanksgiving

“That’s horrible,” Diane breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.” The smile Quinta gave her looked a little strained, and Diane wondered if she was recalling some painful memory. “It’s been a little over a decade since it happened. And Jon took it a lot harder than I did. That’s why it took him so long to adjust to this place. We’ve got Sylvester to thank, of course—working at the forge helped Jon more than anything or anyone else could.”

Diane had never considered bending metals to create weapons as a form of therapy, but whatever worked for Jon was good. She nodded. “You guys could’ve picked some other village. There are others around here, right?”

“Not exactly. Glenstra’s the closest. There are towns and villages scattered all over the mountain, too many to count. There could be dozens farther down this side of the mountain. Itwould take much longer to reach them, though. Weeks, maybe months.”

Diane nodded. “It’s a pretty big mountain.”

Soon, Quinta stopped in front of a cabin. “We’re here.”

She walked up the porch steps and knocked on the door, and it opened a moment later, revealing a red-haired woman carrying a wailing child.

“Oh, good,” the woman said. “I thought it might take you longer to get here.”

“I came as soon as I could,” Quinta replied. “Mary, meet Diane.”

Mary smiled and complimented Diane on her hair. Then she disappeared into the cabin for a couple of minutes, returning with some vegetables and what looked like raw meat. Quinta loaded everything into her basket, thanked Mary, and they were on their way.

“She seems nice,” Diane remarked as they headed back home through the streets.

“She’s one of the first friends I made when Jon and I moved in,” Quinta replied. Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Speaking of Jon…”

She frowned at a figure rapidly approaching them. The man was almost as tall as Sylvester, with a build a little less sturdy. His greying beard had flecks of snow caught in it, and as he drew nearer, Diane caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were round and hazel. His hands swung at his sides, blackened as though he’d been working someplace sooty.

It took Diane a couple of seconds to realize who he was.

“Quinta,” he said. His gaze drifted from his wife to her companion, and his eyes widened slightly with surprise. “And you… you must be Sylvester’s wife.”

The wife part made Diane blush, but she nodded. “Uh… yes, I am. You’re Jon, right?”

“I am.” But Jon didn’t look the least bit interested in carrying on a conversation. His expression, Diane realized, was one of concern. “Have you seen Sylvester?”

At his words, she felt her breath freeze in her throat. “No, not since he left the cabin this morning. Is everything okay?”

The look in his eyes was all the answer she needed. “Not exactly. We were both working in the forge earlier. Then he got up and stormed off.” He frowned. “I suppose he went to pay his brother another visit.”

Uh-oh.

Chapter Ten

“Perhaps I Will Spread My Wings Tonight”

The last place Sylvester wanted to be was in Gregory’s quarters, but it was also the place he needed to be right now. At the very least, he would give his brother a piece of his mind or a taste of his fist. He stormed past the guards at the entrance, ignoring the bewildered looks on their faces, and strode into the building in search of Gregory.

If Jon hadn’t spoken when he had, he wouldn’t be here right now. The duo had been hard at work at the forge when Jon delivered the news to him: Rumors of war between Pine Gap and Glenstra were circulating and warriors were already being enlisted.

It was the very thing Gregory had always wanted.

To Sylvester, it sounded like a nightmare.

He’d shot to his feet before Jon had even finished speaking, leaving his friend stunned as he stormed through the village. Even now, he could feel his blood practically boiling beneath his taut skin, the veins pulsing in his neck as he brought himself closer and closer to the one man he despised the most.

He burst into the large living room where Gregory had been seated the other day. Sure enough, his brother was there, almost reclining in his chair, staring into the flames across the room as he listened to the smaller man next to him.

“I understand, Elias,” he said in a low, almost tired voice.

This time, it was he who first noticed Sylvester. He frowned as he watched his brother enter the room.

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