Chapter One

I am the lucky one. Everyone says so.

Although I don't know all the details of my birth, I am assured that much is true. My otter bevy took me in when no one else would, providing this orphan of the storm with a warm and safe home. My adopted parents love me and encouraged me to get an advanced degree, allowing me to work from anywhere.

Including an office in the cozy home I've built on the bevy's land once I returned from school. It is essentially a tiny house, but it meets all my needs with a sleeping loft, a compact kitchen area, bathroom, and my desk. I did all my watching of videos and things in the loft, gaming at my desk after business hours. As an investor and stock trader, those hours could be wild depending on what was going on in the various markets around the world. This had a tendency to keep me out of the day-to-day social life of the bevy, making my gaming friends a blessing more than any of them knew.

Maybe "everyone" was right, and I was lucky to have landed here. I could see many reasons why that was so, and I should be grateful. My omega dad still dropped off dinner in my oven to keep warm every night. My alpha dad made sure to talk business with me once a week or so, and they both let me know how proud they were of my success. Also, how worried they were that I didn't get out and see "real" people more. They were right, but I was paying dues now, and when I lifted my head from the screen, usually the rest of the bevy was asleep or maybe working themselves. My schedule was unpredictable, making it hard to plan get-togethers with old friends who had recently stopped inviting me because I never showed up.

I swore up and down I was living the life I wanted, paying my dues in business until the day came when I could cut back on my hours, but it could be pretty darn lonely sometimes. Adding in the fact that I felt as if something was missing in my life. Something important and just beyond my reach.

My twenty-fifth birthday dawned clear and bright, a sunny day with not a cloud to be seen, and I woke determined to make this day special. My dads had something brewing and had warned me not to plan to work at all. As I passed my desk on the way outside, my fingers twitched. The US markets would be in the middle of the busy trading day, and I hadn't missed one in quite a while. Summoning all my self-discipline, I continued outside. I was starting to think I had a problem. Sleeping more in naps than full rest in order not to miss any opportunities was not healthy, even if I was building my portfolio in a major way.

It gave me warm fuzzies in a way that nothing else did, and I had begun to wonder if that meant there was something wrong with me. The other otters were productive enough in their various jobs, doing whatever they needed to get by, but they all seemed happy to get home and hang out with the bevy. Swimming in the pond and splashing in the stream were big activities, but I'd never felt all that drawn to water. Even as a little boy, I'd sit on the bank and kick my feet, but I much preferred our campfire nights.

Probably because of the s'mores.

Maybe we could have some tonight. Way better than any birthday cake in my opinion, but I'd let my dads handle it however they wanted. Really, at twenty-five, I was a little old for a big birthday fuss, but as their only young, they liked to do something every year. Before they took me in, they'd thought they'd never have a child to raise, and even if I wasn't the otter they dreamed of, they never made me feel any different than any other child. Neither had the rest of the bevy.

At this age, I was probably latent anyway and would never shift. I'd waited and waited when all the other kids made their first shift at puberty. Maybe this was why I'd been abandoned—my bio parents could tell I'd be a dud. Luckily my adoptive ones did not feel that way.

When the sun hit me, my skin instantly warmed and…tingled? A light breeze skated over my skin, raising goose bumps. I rubbed my arms, wondering where all this hypersensitivity came from. How long had it been since I'd been outside during the day?

Not long enough for this weird reaction. I planted a hand on my forehead, checking for fever then laughing at myself because I was fairly certain a person couldn't tell their own temperature that way.

"Son, are you coming to breakfast?" My alpha father came out on their porch and waved to me. "Your dad made blueberry pancakes and sausage, and there might be a morning gift for you if you've been good."

The corners of my lips twitched. We'd always had the one-present-over-birthday-breakfast rule, but they always acted like it was brand new and dependent on my behavior—whether I was five or twenty-five. And while I tried to act as if I was too old for it, I loved our traditions. Did kids who weren't adopted have such a love of family customs? "On my way, Pops." As if he didn't know that I was headed right for their house. "I've done my best to be good this year." Maybe that felt a little silly at this age, but it was a formula, and we did grin at each other as I approached. "I'm starving."

"You don't eat enough." As I reached the foot of the porch steps, Father reached down and ruffled my hair. "All you do is work."

In the past, I'd argued that point, but I was past it. "I know. I'm trying to get enough in my portfolio to cut back."

"Life is not guaranteed, Son. If you learn nothing more from your dad and me

make it to stop and enjoy the blessings life sends your way. We picked up on that about the time a certain little guy came into our lives."

"I enjoy my work, Pops, but you're right." It was time to make a change, a little one maybe. "Let's go eat."

"That's my boy." He slung an arm over my shoulders and gave me a quick squeeze. "We thought—Stone? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know." That same feeling was back. Hot and cold and goose bumps, and the air was heavy on my skin; the goose bumps spiked… "Pops, I don't feel right."

I crumpled to my knees and out from under his supporting arm. Everything was wrong. The pain started in my core and hot outward. Through my torso and down my limbs. Electric fire followed, and I stumbled down the stairs and to the ground in front of the porch. Flat on my face then struggling to rise, but nothing worked right. Things were longer than they should be or shorter, and my very bones changed, became longer and lighter. Realizing my eyes were closed, I opened them to find myself surrounded by some kind of reptile, iridescent blue scales everywhere.

Panic was supplanted by something stronger when I realized there was no lizard…it was me. The dragon who had declined to make an appearance when all my friends were shifting years ago had chosen today. Elated, terrified, I raised and lowered my wings, testing them out. Could I really fly?

Not only fly, soar. Up, up above the bevy lands, learning to handle my wings, although I suspected my dragon had this without any help from me. Together, we climbed higher and higher until the figures of the bevy were toy-sized below me. The wind and sun and everything were so much more raw here, fierce but unable to penetrate our scales.

It was all too much, and I attempted to go back, but my dragon fought me.

We need our brothers. Find them.