Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

FIVE YEARS EARLIER…

T his entire summer camp business, Conleth was increasingly convinced, was doomed before it had even started.

“Thank you, we’ll be in touch.” He maintained his professional smile until the web meeting disconnected. Then he closed the app, dropped his head into his hands, and let fly a long, heartfelt stream of curses.

“I take it that’s a no, then,” Zephyr said from the doorway.

“Completely unsuitable.” Conleth picked up a pen, crossing out the last name on his list. “When I asked him how he would structure a multichannel seasonal marketing campaign to appeal to each of our core user personas, he gaped at me as though I’d asked him to construct a working nuclear fusion reactor out of tinfoil and marshmallows.”

One of Zephyr’s dark eyebrows quirked. “Do I need a camp manager who can structure a multichannel seasonal marketing campaign?”

“What you need is an entire admin team, including a personal assistant, accountant, and HR manager, plus a marketing division and an experienced business director in charge of overall strategy. Unfortunately, what you can afford is a single person.” He opened his email, scrolling through messages in the vain hope that the perfect candidate might have miraculously dropped into his inbox within the past two minutes. “One who is willing to do five different jobs in a sweltering log cabin square in the middle of nowhere, for slightly less pay than they could get as a shift manager at the average McDonald’s. It’s proving somewhat challenging to fill the position.”

Zephyr entered the office, taking care not to touch the paint still drying on the doorframe. “I wouldn’t dream of questioning your expertise, and of course I’m grateful for your guidance. But that’s the seventh candidate you’ve rejected. I can’t help wondering if you’re setting the job requirements a little too high.”

“If anything, I’m setting them too low,” Conleth retorted. “At this point, I’d settle for anyone who’s both a shifter and not actively incompetent.”

“What about that fox shifter who applied last week? I know he didn’t have much relevant experience, but he seemed enthusiastic. He made a point of mentioning how much he loved going to camp when he was a kid.”

Conleth gave him a withering stare over the top of his laptop screen. “Zephyr, your future camp manager has to be enthusiastic about profit margins, not singing songs around the campfire.”

“Can’t I have someone who’s both?”

“At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have anyone at all.” Conleth returned his attention to his computer. “If this place is going to last longer than five minutes, you’re going to need support. Which I would be able to find a lot more efficiently if you’d stop hovering over me. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes.” Zephyr reached over, closing Conleth’s laptop. “And so do you. You’re missing the party.”

Conleth flipped the screen back up. “I don’t have time for parties. Someone has to do some work around here.”

“You’ve already done far too much work.” Zephyr pushed the laptop closed again, keeping his hand flat on the top. “When I asked for your advice on how to start a business, I expected you to share a few tips over coffee sometime. Not to drop everything and devote every waking hour to turning my vision into concrete reality.”

“Your business plan was written on the back of a napkin. Leaving you to your own devices would have been like abandoning a tiny puppy in the middle of a freeway. And anyway, I needed a vacation.”

“Which for most people would mean a week in the Bahamas, not eighteen months spending every waking hour wrangling permits and sweet-talking investors.” Zephyr pulled the laptop out of his reach. “You’ve put more work into this camp than the rest of us combined. As the camp director, I am ordering you to come to the party.”

“You don’t have any authority over me,” Conleth grumbled, but pushed back his chair. Zephyr was mostly a mild-mannered sort of person, but there was no arguing with him when he was set on something. “I’m your informal business advisor, not an employee.”

“Exactly.” Zephyr herded him in the direction of the door. “And since you won’t accept any form of payment, the least you can do is allow me to convey my heartfelt thanks in a public speech.”

“I thought you were grateful for my assistance, not holding a deep personal grudge. What have I done to deserve this punishment?”

“Everything.” Zephyr clamped a hand onto his shoulder. “So I’m afraid that despite your best efforts to hide, I am going to hideously embarrass you in front of all our friends. Sorry.”

At least Zephyr hadn’t worked out the real reason he’d claimed to be too busy to attend. With a sigh of resignation, Conleth allowed the director to steer him out of the office.

They stepped out into what would one day—hopefully—be the heart of a thriving summer camp. There was still a lot of finishing and landscaping to be done, but at least the major structural work had been completed.

Hence the reason for this cursed party. Zephyr must have invited every shifter in Montana. People strolled about the central area, avoiding piles of construction materials as they admired the new buildings.

At least, Conleth hoped they were admiring them. Many of the shifters exploring the site were parents. On opening day, their kids would be the first batch of campers… assuming that the camp could open.

Conleth frowned at a bare patch of dirt that should have been a large fire pit surrounded by rustic (and therefore cheap) log benches. “I need to call the contractors. They’re falling behind schedule again.”

“Oh no. I’m not letting you escape that easily.” Zephyr looked past him, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “And I don’t think they are, either.”

As a pegasus shifter, Conleth could detect nearby living creatures, though it was by no means his primary talent. That sixth sense gave him enough warning to brace himself before?—

“Uncle Conleth!”

His chest constricted at the shout. Ignoring the familiar stab, Conleth turned, just in time to catch his six-year-old niece as she launched herself into his arms.

“I sensed you were here!” Beth hugged him before sliding back to the ground. “I wanted to come see you straight away, but Daddy said you were working and I shouldn’t bother you.”

His heart twinged again. “You can always bother me, fledgling.”

“Beth!” wailed another childish voice. “You didn’t wait for us!”

Beth heaved a sigh. Giving him an expressive, one-adult-to-another sort of look, she confided, “All the grown-ups wanted to go see the dock and boathouse, but Auntie Moira said it wasn’t safe for little ones. So I’m stuck looking after the babies.”

“I’m not a baby ,” Estelle said indignantly, having arrived in time to overhear. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year and three quarters ,” Beth corrected. “Which means I’m in charge, and you have to do what I say.”

Fortunately, Finley and Rufus picked that moment to arrive, interrupting the brewing fight. Both boys were panting for breath. Conleth suspected Beth had dragged all three kids across the site as soon as she sensed him step out of the office.

“Conleth!” Noticing Zephyr, Finley bobbed his head in a brief, respectful bow. “And honored Thunderbird.”

“No need for formality, Finley,” Zephyr said, smiling. “You don’t have to be a prince here. Just yourself.”

“This place is amazing!” Beth spun in a circle, arms outstretched, beaming from ear-to-ear. Conleth had rarely seen his responsible, serious niece so uninhibited. “We’ve been exploring. It’s so big!”

Finley nodded enthusiastic agreement, his careful manners dropping away. “Is it really just for shifter kids?”

“Unfortunately,” Zephyr replied. He threw Conleth a somewhat pointed look. “I’m still not happy about that.”

“Neither am I, but Lord Golden wouldn’t invest unless you agreed to exclude non-shifters. And since you need his money, you’re stuck pandering to the bigoted ass.” Conleth returned Zephyr’s look with an even more pointed one of his own. “Unless you want to reconsider my alternative solution?”

Zephyr’s jaw set in the stubborn line Conleth had come to know all too well. “You’ve already put far too much time and effort into this camp. I’m not taking your money as well.”

“Zephyr, I could fund this entire place with loose pocket change.”

This was a slight exaggeration, but he could have easily contributed to the camp start-up costs. Thanks to a combination of his family’s generational wealth and his own meteoric career in corporate finance, money was one of the few things he’d never had to worry about.

“I don’t take money from my friends,” Zephyr said firmly. “I mean it, Conleth. That’s my red line. I want this camp to be an actual business, not a vanity project.”

“Then you’re limiting both your target market and your recruitment pool. Lord Golden was very clear on that point. No non-shifters on site, either as campers or staff.”

Estelle’s small face clouded with worry. “But I can’t shift yet. Does that mean I’m not allowed here?”

“You’re still a shifter, so you can come to camp.” Zephyr ruffled her fine, silvery hair. “Though not this year, I’m afraid.”

Estelle pouted. “Why not?”

“You’re too little,” Beth told her loftily. “And you’ve never slept away from home. You’d be scared.”

“I’m not little!” Estelle drew herself up to her full, extremely unimpressive height. “And I’m not scared of anything!”

“Unfortunately,” Conleth said under his breath. Estelle lived on the horse ranch next to the camp, and had exhibited an alarming fascination with the entire construction process. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to dash across the site to haul her out of an excavator.

The corner of Zephyr’s mouth twitched up. “No one doubts your bravery, Estelle. But there’s a minimum age for campers. We’re not licensed to look after children under the age of eight.”

“Six is almost the same as eight,” Beth said hopefully. “And everyone says I’m very mature for my age.”

“Rules are rules, Beth.” Zephyr spread his hands. “But you won’t have to wait long. In a few years, I’m sure you’ll be having plenty of adventures here. As a matter of fact, I know you will.”

Conleth cast his gaze to the heavens. “Not this again.”

“How do you know, Zephyr?” asked Estelle.

“Because a few years ago, I was given a vision of the future.” Zephyr smiled at Finley. “By a very powerful, very wise sea dragon seer.”

Finley’s narrow chest lifted with pride. “My dad?”

“That’s right.” Zephyr crouched to put himself on eye level with the kids. “And do you know what he saw?”

All four children shook their heads, wide-eyed as owls.

“You, and you, and you, and you.” Zephyr lightly tapped each child’s nose, making Estelle giggle. “Most of you hadn’t even been born yet, but he saw you as older than you are now. A true pack of strong, brave friends, always there for each other. And he saw you right here, at this camp.”

Rufus’s blond hair shadowed his face. His mouth didn’t move, but his soft, tentative telepathic voice whispered in their minds: *Even me?*

Zephyr smiled at him, dark eyes warm. “Especially you.”

Rufus didn’t smile back. Facial expressions didn’t come as naturally to him as they did for neurotypical children. But his shoulders eased a little.

Zephyr rose, dusting off his knees. “That’s why I’m confident this camp will thrive and grow over the next few years. Because one day, you’ll all be campers here.”

“May I remind you that Joe sees possible visions of the future,” Conleth said, unable to restrain his exasperation. “You cannot base a business plan on blind faith, Zephyr.”

Beth’s expression crumpled in sudden doubt. “You mean the camp might not be here by the time we’re old enough, Uncle Conleth?”

He kicked himself for letting any of his current problems slip out in front of the kids. “Of course you’ll be able to come to camp, in due course. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“But…” Beth bit her lip. “Only, I heard you talking to Daddy after dinner the other day, and you said it would be a miracle if this camp lasted longer than a single summer.”

Zephyr shot him a reproachful look.

“That was taken out of context,” Conleth told him, although it hadn’t. He made a mental note to have a word with his brother about the acuity of Beth’s hearing. “I was just concerned over the amount of work still left to do before the camp can open, Beth. But I’ll make sure it gets done. Everything is under control.”

“You know Conleth,” Zephyr put in. “He always has a plan. Between his hard work and fate, I’m certain this camp is going to be a success.”

Beth didn’t seem reassured. “But Uncle Conleth isn’t going to be here forever. He’s going back to London soon.”

“That’s why he’s finding a manager to help me run the camp,” Zephyr said. He flashed Conleth a wry glance. “Someone who’ll roll their eyes at me whenever I’m being na?ve, just like he does.”

Conleth rolled his eyes.

“How come Conleth can’t stay?” Estelle asked.

“Because this camp is my dream, not his,” Zephyr replied. “Conleth has his own hopes and ambitions, none of which involve running a summer camp. I couldn’t ask him to give up his goals for the sake of mine.”

In truth, there was only one thing Conleth truly wanted. And it was the only thing he couldn’t do a single cursed thing to get. Any other goal, he could have made a plan, measured his progress, worked tirelessly until he achieved his objective…but not that one.

“I’ve already got all the other staff I need,” Zephyr continued. “If Conleth doesn’t find a camp manager in time, I’m sure we’ll manage to muddle through for one season.”

Conleth pictured Zephyr ‘muddling through’ the accounts, and broke out in a cold sweat. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Zephyr shrugged. “You’ve written a comprehensive business plan, not to mention several hundred pages of camp procedures. I’m not saying it would be ideal, but I’d manage.”

“Zephyr, you have the financial literacy of a carrot.”

“I’m not entirely incompetent,” Zephyr said, nettled. “I have been paying attention to everything you’ve been trying to teach me.”

“That’s why I said ‘carrot’ rather than ‘plankton.’” Conleth heaved a sigh. “Don’t worry, kids. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve found someone who can keep this place running at a healthy profit margin. Leaving Zephyr to do it would be like pitching a baby bird into a blender.”

“Does your list of requirements for the future camp manager include ‘keep the director’s ego in check with a constant stream of witty insults?’” Zephyr murmured.

“Of course it does.” For the benefit of the children, Conleth put on his most confident smile. “So I can promise you all that this camp will still be standing by the time you’re old enough to come here. Prophecy or no prophecy.”

“And when Uncle Conleth says something will happen, you can be sure it will,” Beth said, looking happier at last. She turned to the other kids. “Don’t worry, everyone. In a few years, we’re going to have the best summer ever. Uncle Conleth will make sure of that.”

Her eyes shone with pure, innocent faith. Looking down at his niece, Conleth had a sinking sense of inevitable doom.

He’d known for a while now that it was going to come to this. It had been painfully obvious since he’d sat down and written out all the skills the camp manager was going to need, and compared them to the pitifully small salary that Zephyr could afford. All the searching and interviews had simply been delaying the inevitable.

“I’m looking forward to having you here as campers when you’re all old enough,” Zephyr said to the kids, oblivious to Conleth’s racing thoughts. “Now, who wants to see the cabins?”

“Dibs on a top bunk!” Estelle yelled. “I called it first!”

“Estelle, we’re not coming to camp for ages,” Beth said to her.

The other girl shrugged. “Well, you’d better remember I called it first.”

If Zephyr didn’t have a camp manager, it wasn’t going to matter that Estelle had called dibs first. None of the kids would be coming to camp in a few years. There wouldn’t be a camp.

There was only one solution. It was the last thing he wanted to do… but he couldn’t let the kids down.

The problem was, Zephyr would never agree to it. Unfortunately, Conleth had already made it all too clear that he had no desire to work at the camp on a permanent basis—though not, of course, for the reason Zephyr thought. It had been hard enough to convince the man to let him run the business side of things this long. If he offered to stay, Zephyr would only say no.

Which was why Conleth had no intention of giving him a choice in the matter.

Beth tugged at his sleeve. “Come on, Uncle Conleth. I want to see my future cabin!”

“You go on with Zephyr,” he told her, a plan already starting to fall into place in his head. “I need to talk to someone, but I’ll catch up with you shortly.”

Zephyr gave him a suspicious look. “That sounds like an excuse to run for the horizon. I still intend to thank you for all your help in my speech. You’d better not be plotting to escape.”

“No,” Conleth replied, with absolute honesty. “I’m not.”

It wasn’t hard to locate Joe. Conleth barely even had to use his pegasus senses. The sea dragon prince stood out in any crowd, and not just because of his towering height.

“And so I said to the octopus shifter, wait, if that’s your eighth tentacle, then what’s touching my—” Joe broke off from relaying a no doubt filthy anecdote to an admiring audience as Conleth grabbed his arm. “Hey, bro. Awesome place you’ve built here. I’m almost jealous of the kids. Don’t suppose I could persuade you to let parents come as well?”

“Why don’t we discuss it,” Conleth said, teeth clenched behind his casual smile. Out of sight of anyone else, he dug his fingernails into Joe’s forearm. “Right now.”

The sea dragon blinked, but he let Conleth drag him to a secluded spot. “I take it you don’t really want to discuss camp policies. What’s up?”

Conleth checked with his pegasus senses to make sure no one was in earshot. “You remember that time when we were fourteen, and your mother held that big formal event to welcome the delegation from the Pacific deep-sea dragon clans?”

“Random, but yes. Vividly. Why?”

“Did your mother ever find out what happened with the motorbike, the celebration cake, and the ambassador’s daughter?”

Joe shuddered. “Obviously not, since I’m standing here with my intestines still inside my body.”

“Do you want her to find out?”

The sea dragon squinted at him. “Why do I feel like I’m being blackmailed?”

“Because I’m blackmailing you,” Conleth informed him. “I need you to have a vision.”

Joe spread his hands. “I’m not a vending machine, bro. The sea shows me what it chooses, when it chooses. You can’t swipe a credit card through my butt cheeks and expect me to spit out the future on demand.”

“Let me be more clear.” Even though he was sure they were alone, Conleth lowered his voice. “Here’s what you’re going to see.”

Conleth had to give Joe credit. He’d been afraid the sea dragon would torpedo his plan by putting on some dramatic, over-the-top performance, instantly giving the whole game away.

Instead, Joe played his part perfectly. At the agreed moment, when Zephyr asked everyone to join him in a toast to the future success of Camp Thunderbird, Joe glanced into his paper cup of sparkling wine. He didn’t let out a loud gasp, or boom out a pronouncement in some sonorous, otherworldly voice. He just went still.

“My heart?” Joe’s mate Seren asked, noticing. “What is it?”

Joe didn’t reply. As far as Conleth could tell, he’d even stopped breathing. The only sign of motion was the slight flicker of his eyes, following something only he could see. If Conleth hadn’t known better, he would have thought the sea dragon genuinely was having a vision.

Everyone else was certainly convinced. Most of the shifters present knew of Joe’s talent, even if they’d never seen it in action before. An expectant hush fell over the crowd as they all waited for Joe to come out of his trance.

Joe blinked. Seren put a steadying hand on his arm, supporting him as he swayed. Joe gave his mate a grateful nod, dark skin slightly ashen.

“Well.” Joe cleared his throat. “That was unexpected.”

Finley tugged at his father’s shirt. “Did you have a vision, Daddy?”

Joe knocked back half his drink in a single swallow. “Yep.”

“About the camp?” Zephyr asked.

“In a way.” Joe tilted his cup in Conleth’s direction. “But mostly about him.”

Conleth did his best to appear nonplussed as every eye turned his way. “Me?”

“Yes. You.” Joe raised his voice, pitching his words to carry clearly across the dining hall. “Conleth is going to meet his mate right here, at Camp Thunderbird.”

A low, astonished murmur broke out at this pronouncement. As Zephyr’s eyebrows shot up, Conleth let his own expression slide to a pre-prepared mix of delight and dismay.

Inwardly, he breathed a secret sigh of relief. Everything was going exactly as he’d planned?—

And then, blue eyes gleaming with mischief, Joe added, “While wearing a suit.”

Between all the questions, comments, and jokes, it was quite a while before Conleth could get a private word with Joe. This meant that by the time he corralled the sea dragon in a quiet corner, he’d calmed down enough to be able to restrain his desire to throttle the man.

Just.

“Did you have to add on the bit about the suit?” he hissed.

Joe swirled the remains of his drink thoughtfully around the bottom of his cup. “Yes. Yes, I really did.”

Only the fact that they were still in public stopped him from shaking the infuriating sea dragon until his royal teeth rattled. “I’m going to have to wear one every day that I’m here, you realize. It’s what I’d do if I actually believed in that bloody so-called prophecy. People will get suspicious otherwise.”

Joe raised his cup to his lips, not quite concealing his smirk. “Guess you’d better order a lot of suits.”

In fact, he already had a lot of suits, though most of them were across the Atlantic in his London penthouse. He’d worn them on a daily basis for his entire adult life.

And secretly hated it, too. Something that Joe must have guessed, though Conleth had no idea how. He’d always taken care to never give any hint of how much his old corporate role had chafed—both literally and figuratively.

And now here he was, being forced back into business formal. It was just as well the prophecy wasn’t true. The absolute worst way to meet his mate would be in the middle of a children’s summer camp while wearing a damn suit.

“I’m going to look an absolute idiot,” he muttered. “Thank you so much for that, Joe.”

“You’re welcome.” Joe looked past him. “Heads up. We’ve got company.”

Conleth didn’t need the warning, thanks to his pegasus. He turned, not needing to feign his disgruntled expression.

“Congratulations.” Zephyr clapped him on the shoulder. “Or possibly condolences. I’m not really sure which one I should be offering.”

“Both,” Conleth replied glumly. “As if it’s not bad enough that I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future, now I’ve got to wear a suit the entire time.”

Zephyr glanced at Joe. “Did you really see the suit?”

“Why do people keep accusing me of making that up?” Joe asked the world in general.

“Because we know you,” Conleth grated out. “And what passes for your sense of humor.”

Joe shrugged, not looking the slightest bit repentant. “I just see the future, bro. I don’t make it.”

That was true. Conleth had made it. Why couldn’t the sea dragon have stuck to the damn script?

Too late to do anything about it now. And Joe’s stunt hadn’t ruined the rest of his plan.

“Well, at least this solves our recruitment problem, Zephyr,” Conleth said, as though this had only just occurred to him rather than being the entire point of this whole cursed scheme. “If I just sit around waiting, I’ll go stark raving mad. I might as well take on the camp manager role, at least until I meet my mate.”

The director’s amused air faded. “Joe, do you have any idea when that might be?”

The sea dragon shook his head. “Sorry, bro. My visions don’t come date-stamped.”

Zephyr sighed. “Are you sure about this, Conleth? You might be waiting a long time.”

In all probability, he was going to be waiting forever. There was nothing he could do to influence fate, after all. Meeting his one true mate—assuming she even existed in the first place—was completely out of his control.

And he’d learned long ago not to put his faith in anything he couldn’t control.

“Then the camp will benefit from my skills and expertise for a long time.” Flinging a last glare at Joe, he stalked away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go put on a suit.”