A Nightshade Yuletide (Mori’s Mementos #5)

CHAPTER ONE

Mori

On a train headed home to the Nightshade Bear Territory

Big, white fluffy flakes were the first thing that let me know the train had neared Nightshade Bear Territory.

My twin always rolled his eyes at me when I said the biggest snowflakes always fell in the land of our birth.

He says it’s biased or some bullshit like that.

Though, the flakes outside of the window looked big enough to take up half my palm.

Preston’s already at home or he’d say it wasn’t the snowflake’s fault that I had tiny hands. He can be a sweet jerk sometimes.

My wolf brushed against my ribs, his tail wagging ninety miles an hour, kicking up white fluffy stuff inside his inner sanctum.

How he got snow in there, I didn’t know, but inner beasts had always had their ways.

A little boy further up the train pressed his nose up against the window taking in the almost surreal white coating layering itself over the world outside.

I could’ve come straight from Dern’s old house to the Nightshade Bear Territory through the Other World gateways but magic had crept into every part of my life.

So, after making the trip to see Ni, Teddy, and my godkids before they went off to have a Starscale Yule with Teddy’s family, I hopped the train from the Appalachian Wolf Pack Territory headed towards home.

I wanted this feeling. The awe at the wonder of winter and the beauty the earth displayed while she slept under the snow.

I wanted to practice my patience and revel in the mundane for just a few moments.

Plus, I needed some time to get my head on straight.

Some time to remember who I was. I’d always be that wolf pup born in Nightshade Bear Territory to Xenos and Barry.

I grew up surrounded by wolves and bears learning magic, attending feasts, and just floating along my life.

I didn’t remember the war that broke out when I was a pup.

I didn’t really recall anything horrible from my childhood.

I grew up between my family’s house and all the houses of our community, living in rhythm with the seasons and the needs our community faced.

That’s the wolf I was. That’s the wolf who I still wanted to be.

I loved Dern and Ormund. I enjoyed a good mystery and wanted adventures but somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing that wolf when I looked into the mirror.

I grew into a magical practitioner tossed around by magical waves and dead men.

I grew jealous of someone who got a job I thought I could do because Dern made it sound like it was already mine.

I forgot the cardinal rule that all seers and workers with spirits know.

The future was ever changing and even if something was concrete you could lose it without effort and momentum.

I counted on magic and a dead man to carve my path forward.

That was dumb. It was ignorant. Honestly, it showed a hubris I didn’t know I was capable of. I wasn’t raised to be a know-it-all.

Then, of course, Dern put me through the hell of letting me know I was within a paw’s slap of meeting my true-mate.

That broke me a little. Okay. That broke me a lot, but it reminded me of how my carrier waited for years until it was the right time for him to meet my sire.

Would I ever be like him? Bearing my burdens, my knowledge, and my magic with grace?

“Eh, people leave the messy parts out of stories,” my wolf chimed into my thoughts. “I’m sure he had his fuck ups too.”

I hoped the furry guy was right, but I also hoped he was wrong for my carrier’s sake. Just because somehow, I ended up face down in the mud because I couldn’t keep my head from growing too big didn’t mean I wanted anyone else to feel this way.

A buzz echoed through all the train cars.

“Next stop is the one and only stop for the Nightshade Bear Territory. We’ll be taking a break here as we are arriving at the same time as the train headed in the opposite direction.

As frequent travelers know, my mate operates that train.

We’ll be having lunch, and I recommend all passengers who will reboard do the same.

The little restaurant across from the station serves a hearty butternut squash soup and a good deer stew.

No pot roast, though. It’s not Tuesday,” the conductor’s voice sounded over the intercom.

I pressed my hand against the window and watched the snow-covered landscape roll by.

No magic during this trip. No worrying about the business or lack thereof.

No looking for mysteries where the only mystery was how did someone become such a huge asshole.

I was here for Yule. I was here for my family.

I’d be present in the now and not worry about what Dern or anyone else was up to. Just a few weeks of being me.

“And we’ll have pot roast tonight,” my wolf chimed into my thoughts again. “Dad’s making pot roast.”

We would and my mouth was already watering at the thought of it.