Chapter 1 - Lex

"Lex, I have the numbers. Gold Room in ten minutes. I'll tell the others," Liam Townsend, the head of Marketing of Druk Technologies and a life-long friend, says to me through the partially open door of my office on the top floor of the high-rise we own in midtown Manhattan.

I nod, resisting the urge to swear. I almost forgot about the meeting, and also the fact that this particular partners' meeting isn't going be like our usual end-of-the-week status updates plus informal bouncing of ideas kind of meeting.

I pull out my planner and look at the agenda on it, which has been penned in my own hand. The entry under Friday, 7 pm has three things:

1. TokenMintz

2. Stealth Mode - Shifter Skins

3. Twenty-fifth anniversary party

When Liam was talking about the numbers earlier, he was referring to the first point on the agenda.

TokenMintz is our attempt to venture into the NFT space. The NFT minting platform has been functional for one whole business quarter now. We all had misgivings about this project from the very start for several reasons. For one thing, we would be venturing out of our niche, which is security tech, and entering into unfamiliar territory; for another, we would be competing with the likes of Tron Tech, who are already established in the NFT space. They are also known for their ruthless and dirty profit-making tactics, not caring how much collateral damage they leave in their wake. But it was also the reason we decided to go ahead with the project—Tron Tech needed to be taught a lesson. Last year, their underhanded practices almost besmirched our reputation, and we couldn't simply let it pass. Liam's poker face told me nothing, so I am certainly apprehensive about the numbers.

I curse steadily when I read point number two on the agenda. I had volunteered to try on the Skins personally, but it slipped my mind. I have ten minutes before the meeting. For a moment, I'm tempted to head to the roof and test out the Skins, but decide against it. I'll be cutting it too close. All I can do now is apologize to the guys. After my exec assistant Linda went on her maternity leave, things have been chaotic. My office secretary Rachel tries to take some load off me, but it just isn't the same. Rachel promised me that Linda's temporary replacement will be joining on Monday, and Monday can't come soon enough.

However, the third point on the agenda makes me smile. I swivel my chair around to face the floor-to-ceiling windows behind my desk. New York City lights shine like little diamonds against the indigo darkness of the night. A thrill of pleasure runs down my spine, knowing that Druk Technologies has been around for twenty-five years, with me as its CEO for the last five of it. At least we will be wrapping up the meeting on a high note. I stand up and stretch, working the kinks in my neck and shoulders before heading to the Gold Room.

When I enter, the guys are already seated around the U-shaped table in the center of the room. While all our offices are ultra-modern, we have gone for an antique look with this conference room which is used only by us partners. The Gold Room has a gold-plated cornice skirting the ceiling. The wallpaper is a specially commissioned, hand-painted work of art with magnificent dragon motifs painted in silver, fiery red, burnt sienna, violet, and amber colors. Each individual dragon is linked to the next by a single, unbroken golden thread. The hardwood floor gleams bright under the crystal chandelier. A white screen covers the wall facing the table.

I nod to the guys and begin walking towards my seat, but stop in my tracks when my gaze falls upon the numbers projected on the screen.

"I don't believe it!" I say, goggling at the screen.

"We fucking did it!" Liam says with a huge grin on his face.

TokenMintz is a roaring success.

"We've minted a record number of NFTs!" Patrick Cummins, our COO, says with a wide grin on his face, his midnight-black eyes crinkling at the corners

"And Tron Tech?" I ask.

"They've minted only half as many NFTs as we have. We kicked their ass," Damon Hunt, the head of Legal, says with a grim smile of satisfaction.

"The numbers are absolutely right? There's been no mistake?" I ask again.

"Lex, have you ever known our resident nerd to make a mistake when it comes to numbers?" Theodore J. Rubens, TJ to his friends, who is the head of Security, says, leaning back in his chair, cocking an eyebrow in my direction.

"The profits from this venture alone will have us posting a strong quarter. We need to celebrate this," I say, grinning.

"Damn right we do. We head to The Sitting Duck after we wrap up," Pat says, referring to our favorite watering hole.

For the next several minutes, we discuss the strategy for the next quarter for TokenMintz.

"Let's move on to the next point," TJ says.

"I'm sorry, guys, but it'll have to be point number three. I totally forgot about the Skins," I say with an apologetic shrug. Then I'm struck with sudden inspiration.

"Actually, why don't we all test the Skins? It seems to me like we are going to wrap up sooner than expected, so why not head to the roof after this? The building is empty, so it's unlikely that we will be spotted. Besides, it'll be a real test of the new functionality."

"Why the hell not? It's been too damn long since I shifted anyway. Since we all shifted together. I'm in," Liam says, jumping on the idea.

"Sure, as long as we head to The Sitting Duck after that. I have a feeling I'm going to get lucky tonight," TJ says with a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Right. You're going to get lucky at The Sitting Duck," Damon scoffs.

"I can feel it in my bones," TJ says, undeterred. He is an incurable playboy who has managed to charm his way into the panties of almost every girl he meets. But Damon is right. The Sitting Duck is not the kind of bar you go to pick up girls. In fact, it's a secret bar hidden behind an unassuming barber's shop. It offers unparalleled privacy, has an excellent stock of expensive liquors, and great music. It feels more like a gentlemen's club—the kind that you find in the UK—than a typical bar. Women are not forbidden at The Sitting Duck per se, nobody is forbidden really, but since so few people know that it even exists, we hardly see new faces there.

"Alright, moving on, the venue for twenty-fifth anniversary party," I say, bringing the meeting back on track.

Once again, a grin spreads on my face thinking about how far Druk Technologies has come. The five of us, who are equal partners in Druk Technologies, might have been born into money and might have inherited the business from our respective fathers, but we successfully took it from a company with a multi-million-dollar turnover and turned it into a company with a multi-billion-dollar turnover. I think what brought us to these heights of success so quickly is the deep friendship and the implicit trust the five of us share. Sharing and guarding a common secret will do that to you.

We are all dragon shifters living in a world populated by Homo sapiens.

As dragon shifters, we are fond of large, open spaces. This particular penchant of ours is reflected in the way we have had our workspace as well as our individual homes designed. So it's no surprise when we all unanimously voted for the newly opened rooftop restaurant in lower Manhattan that can host a thousand people as the venue for the party. The party is a few months from now, but now that we have finalized the venue, our exec assistants can take over the planning.

With that, the meeting draws to a close.

"To the roof?" Damon asks, standing up and stretching his hands with interlaced fingers in front of him, cracking his knuckles. He is a big guy; the tallest, broadest, and strongest amongst us all at six foot six. The cracking of his knuckles sounds like shots from a pistol. It is an irritating habit that he has developed after he returned from that place five years ago. I wince but say nothing; neither do the others. We know how difficult it has been for him. Even after all these years, I don't think he has forgiven himself.

"I'll get the Skins."

After a quick sprint to my office, I am back with the Skins draped over my forearm. Each one has been specially designed, keeping our forms in mind. I drop the Skins on the couch. One by one, the guys pick them up. The Shifter Skins are made of a special type of fabric that can withstand an insane amount of tension without tearing. They look like wet suits worn by scuba divers, but are so much more than that.

These Skins were developed by a hi-tech research facility that is partly funded by our company. I think of them as our superhero suits. They have given us the independence to shift into our dragon forms with minimal fuss whenever and wherever we want; within reason of course.

They have a concealed pocket in the chest area where we can safely place our cell phones and other essentials. When we shift to our dragon forms, the Skins neatly fold upon themselves and tuck automatically into a tiny pouch that hangs from our necks by a cord that is woven around the neckline; kind of like a reverse parachute. When we shift back, they automatically unfurl and cover our naked bodies.

While the Skins have made it easy for us to let our dragons free even when living in a city as crowded as Manhattan, the new functionality that has been integrated is helping us take the shift-anywhere-you-want deal to a whole new level. With the push of a button concealed near the wrist, our shifted forms can apparently be rendered invisible, thereby shielding us from prying eyes.

We change out of our suits, don the Skins, and head to the roof. We decide to take turns shifting as the roof isn't big enough for five full-sized dragons.

Damon shifts first. In a matter of seconds, his tall, muscular human form changes into a large dragon covered by dark violet amethyst scales. He is an Amethyst dragon. He flaps his wings and takes flight, and to our astonishment, does vanish mid-air. After a brief while, he suddenly appears on the roof in his human form, securely covered by the Skin.

"Did it work?" he asks.

"Yes, but there was a lag. You should have become invisible the moment you shifted for the stealth mode to be truly useful. You only vanished once you took flight," I say, making a mental note to report back to the research facility.

We decide to try out all the other suits to see if there are any more glitches.

Pat shifts next. His dragon form is an Onyx, lean and lithe, covered in hard black scales. In the dark night, he is pretty well camouflaged, even without the stealth mode. But like Damon, he only becomes invisible after a few minutes of taking flight.

When TJ shifts, he is an Agate dragon, covered in glittering red-brown scales. He doesn't become invisible, even after he takes flight. We signal him to land quickly, lest he is spotted.

Liam shifts next, turning into a Citrine dragon, covered in reflective amber-colored scales. He vanishes almost immediately after shifting. The scientists back at the research facility have almost got it right with Liam's Skin. So I'm hopeful they'll get our Skins right as well pretty soon.

I shift last.

I am a Smoky Quartz dragon with silver-gray scales covering my body. The scales are translucent, deceptively fragile looking, but are as hard as diamonds. Even after years of shifting in and out of forms, it still gives me a thrill every time I shift. It feels freeing to let my dragon out. The whole process takes mere seconds, but there is always a sharp stab of pain when the forms change. However, nothing can compare to the joy of letting your shifter form free. I flap my wings and fly overhead a couple of times before landing back on the roof. The others tell me that my Skin didn't function optimally either.

Our dragon forms—Smoky Quartz, Amethyst, Onyx, Agate, and Citrine, are all sub-sects of the rarest, most ancient and powerful of all dragon shifters: the Quartz dragons. Quartz dragons are so rare in fact that a lot of non-dragon shifters think they don't really exist.

Dragons have traditionally been the guardians of treasure; therefore, it is no wonder that five of us and our families are extremely wealthy. We have kept up and evolved with the times, which has allowed us to increase our wealth several folds.

I look around me, and the guys look as exhilarated as I feel. Even shifting for a brief while, riding the power, feeling the freedom has added significantly to the high we were already feeling on account of the unprecedented success of TokenMintz.

"Time to celebrate!" I say as we all head down to change.

The Sitting Duck is only a few blocks away, so we decide to walk. On the way there, I couldn't help feeling very pleased with it all. I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want, with the best partners in the world. I don't want to change a single thing about my life. It's true that all I've done for the last five years is work, but I like my work. How many people in the world can claim that they have got not one thing to complain about?

But our life is monotonous, my dragon grumbles.

We are content, I retort.

Content is another word for bored, he mutters.

We are not bored! Our work is exciting, fulfilling. We have a wonderful family, great friends! I counter.

We don't have love, he sighs.

We don't need love. We know what the price of that can potentially be, I remind my dragon.

But the inner dialogue has me feeling edgy. For the last few months, my dragon has been grumbling that we haven't yet found our soul mate, but I never want to find my soul mate. He knows as well as I do the consequences of falling in love, of claiming a mate. Sure, I have needs, and do take a casual lover from time to time, but I have never been in a relationship. Neither do I plan to be in one ever.

"Lex! You coming?" TJ says as he pushes open the glass door of the barber shop, ignoring the ‘Closed' sign on it. The guys must already be in The Sitting Duck as they're nowhere to be seen. The shop is shrouded in darkness except for a thin sliver of light coming from the crack under the door at the extreme end of the shop. I hear the faint sound of soft rock coming from behind the closed door when I step in.

TJ pushes open the other door, and we both go in. The smell that I uniquely associate with The Sitting Duck, which is a mixture of cigar smoke, wood fire burning in the traditional red brick fireplace in the corner, alcohol, and leather, hits my nostrils. Comfortable armchairs and couches upholstered in soft brown leather are placed along the walls. The hardwood floor opposite the bar is devoid of any furniture, leaving an empty space in the center of the room. The more enthusiastic patrons sometimes use it as a dance floor, especially when they're there with their significant others.

Thomas, the bartender, is at his usual place behind the polished wooden bar counter. He greets us with a wave and a grin. TJ and I wave back. Damon, Liam, and Pat are sitting at our usual spot in the corner. Pat waves the bottle of Dom he is holding at us. We hurry to our spot, and he pops the cork, filling the flutes with the bubbly, sparkling liquid.

As we clink our glasses and drink to our achievements, I tell myself and my dragon that this is exactly where I want to be. My life is exactly right. Some of the edginess I was feeling only moments earlier after my dragon voiced his thoughts vanishes as easy conversation flows.

But then I see her.

"Holy fuck!" TJ exclaims, letting out a low whistle. "Didn't I tell you I was going to get lucky?" he smirks, staring at the two stunning women, a blonde and a redhead, who have just entered the room.

My eyes are instantly drawn to the redhead. She is wearing a little silver number that molds against her curves, stopping several inches above her thighs, displaying miles and miles of gorgeous, toned legs. The halter neck leaves her shoulders and the tops of her creamy white breasts bare. Her strappy, high-heeled sandals show off her candy pink nails. Soft red waves frame her oval face. I am unable to tear my gaze away from her.

She is grasping her little matching clutch like her life depends on it. She looks like a cornered animal, making me wonder if she'll bolt. But the blonde, who is certainly the bolder of the two and quite pretty in her own way, grabs her hand and walks towards the bar. The redhead's eyes are still darting all around the room, possibly scoping out escape routes, even when they're seated at the bar.

Then her emerald green eyes meet mine. I feel an undeniable, strong tug in my belly. Before I know it, I am walking towards her. I am helpless against her magnetic pull.

TJ is right behind me. For some reason, that irritates me. I don't want him putting his moves on her.

"You can be my wingman," he teases, fixing an easy smile on his face.

"We are not going to hit on them," I warn. "I just want to make sure they're not trouble. We hardly see the likes of them here," I say, knowing full well that I haven't fooled him in the slightest.

"Yeah, yeah," TJ mutters and rolls his eyes.

"Hello ladies," he says, sliding on the stool next to the redhead, smiling his most charming smile, the kind that makes the ladies drool all over him. "Can we buy you a drink?"

He is smiling at them both, but his eyes keep getting drawn to the blonde.

"Switch places with me," I whisper in his ear, standing behind him.

He smirks at me, but he doesn't argue. Very smoothly, he steps around the redhead on the pretext of asking the blonde what she wants to drink.

I occupy the stool he just vacated; up close, she is even more stunning. She has milky white skin with a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are deep pools of green and I can see a slight hint of nervousness in them. She's painted her lips a deep red. All I want to do is taste her. A hint of rose tinges her cheeks, and her eyes widen in what I think is alarm when she notices me staring unblinkingly.

She must think I'm a creep. I groan inwardly as I try to smile. I want to say something, anything, but my throat has gone bone dry. No woman has ever affected me like this.

"Hi," she says, offering a tentative smile, breaking the silence.

"Haven't seen you around here before," I finally say.

"That's because I've never been here," she says, glancing at her blonde friend who has seemingly hit it off with TJ.

"So how did you hear about this place?" I ask, probably coming off more suspicious than I intend to. The fact is, she has me feeling off-balance. Never before have I felt this instant attraction towards anybody.

"Ask her," she says, pointing at her friend. "She's the one who dragged me here," she says lightly, but her fingers are tightly interlaced on the counter.

I don't know what I set out to do when I walked here, but intimidating her wasn't the purpose, which I seem to be doing with my brusque and suspicious manner. I close my eyes for a brief moment and take a deep breath.

"Let's try this again," I say with an easier smile. "I'm Lex," I say, extending my hand.

"Nic," she says, taking my hand.

The minute our fingers touch, I feel a spark shoot down my arm. Whoa. That's another first. Probably static, I try to reason, knowing that I'm bullshitting myself. Apparently she felt it too as I see her eyes widen and her lips part. Her hand is now firmly enveloped in mine and even though I know that I should let go, I hold her hand in mine, long after our brief handshake. The lack of a ring on her finger has me feeling disproportionately relieved and happy. Her skin is as soft as velvet, and I'm tracing little circles on her wrist with my thumb. The slight indrawing of her breath tells me she likes what I'm doing. Good. I like it too.

I finally release her hand from my grasp when I catch TJ's pointed look and cocked eyebrow over the blonde friend's head. Nic appears self-conscious as she withdraws her hand from mine, not quite knowing what to do with it as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What can I get you to drink?" I ask while my brain is coming up with excuses to touch her again.

"I'll have whatever you are having," she says.

"Got it. TJ, you going to get the lady a drink or bore her to death?" I ask, looking at TJ, who seems to be flirting shamelessly with the blonde. She's already giggling and blushing and making googly eyes at him.

"We're happy to talk. For now. Aren't we, Penelope?" He winks at the blonde, making her giggle harder. I roll my eyes and ask Thomas for two glasses of scotch on the rocks.

When Thomas gets our drinks, we clink our glasses and take a sip.

"This is good," Nic chokes out the words after swallowing a huge mouthful. Her eyes are watering a little.

"I can get you something else," I offer.

"No, no. This is fine. I don't really drink a lot. Wasn't expecting the burn at the back of my throat. And I probably shouldn't have had such a large sip," she says sheepishly, looking at me from under her eyelashes, biting her lower lip. I am so tempted to run my thumb over her plump lip.

"Lived in New York long?" I ask, taking a sip of my drink instead. I want to think that the conversation is flowing more easily, but honestly it's a wonder that I'm able to say anything at all, when a major part of my brain is occupied trying to come up with ways of convincing her to spend the night with me.

"No, I just moved last week actually. God, I love this song," she says, swaying her body in tune to a 70s soft rock song that has just started playing over the speakers. The unintentionally large sip of scotch seems to have relaxed her nerves. I'm mesmerized by her. But here's my chance to finally get her in my arms.

"Dance with me," I say, holding out my hand, not pausing to think just how out of character this is for me. I have never asked anybody to dance with me before.