1. Nicholas

"Yes, the campaign will be ready by the end of the week."

I was video chatting to a client while my dragon was creating havoc inside my head.

Shift, please!

Soon. Just be patient!

The client, Mr. Hernandez, paused and chuckled.

"Something wrong?" The campaign we'd designed was centered around recycling, and I didn't see the humor in it.

"You've got a battle on your hands."

Huh? What's he talking about?My beast calmed and took an interest in what the man was saying.

I had an idea but didn't say anything.

"Your beast wants to shift?"

What?My dragon did what many dogs do; he went around and around trying to catch his tail. Can he see me?

I doubt it.

"You've got the expression shifters get when their beast wants out."

He didn't use the word "constipated," but I was sure that was how I appeared.

"You're right," I agreed.

"I'll let you go."

We signed off, and I leaned back in my chair, pleased the client was happy with the project and that the workday was done.

My dragon was bored, as he often was, when I was in my office. Lucky for him—and me—I wasn't a cubicle worker but was my own boss. I ran a small IT firm that did PR and created social media campaigns for sustainable firms. Protecting the environment was something I did without thinking because our planet was in trouble.

Not that I had far to go to my office. I walked out of my bungalow and into the backyard of the acreage I owned and into the converted shipping container that was the office.

I'd chosen this location, outside of town, so we didn't have to wait to shift until the middle of the night. People in town hadn't discovered this location, so I had no nearby neighbors. It would happen, which was why I'd planted trees and a hedge around the perimeter of my estate to give my beast some privacy.

My phone was on mute because I hated that damned ringtone—any ringtone—and I refused to answer calls. Clients messaged me and we arranged to chat or they texted or emailed. The staff were used to my idiosyncrasies and did the same. My friends laughed at my quirks, but they never tried to phone, knowing I wouldn't pick up.

But as I strode into the house and tossed the device on the couch, it vibrated and fell face down onto the wooden floor. I picked it up, making sure it wasn't broken and shoved it under a sofa cushion, irritated that it had interrupted the silence in my home.

Hurry. My dragon needed to spread his wings and hunt.

Okay. Okay. I opened the sliding glass doors that gave a perfect view of the distant mountains and strode outside. I gave my beast his skin, and my dragon erupted out of me, all scaly wings, fire, smoke, and sharp fangs. He soared upward and circled the house before taking off toward the hills.

His huge wings, lined with veins and green and yellow scales, flapped slowly, scaring birds and animals on the ground below. My beast ignored them, preferring to perch on a cliff and eye his prize far below. He would sit, unmoving, waiting for a deer, and when ready, he would swoop. I imagined the fear his prey experienced when his wingspan created a shadow overhead. The violent flapping of his wings as he swooped toward the ground and the darkness that followed him sinking his teeth into them.

But like most animals and unlike humans, he only took what he needed and he never hunted "for sport."

My dragon crouched on the edge of the mountain, his keen eyes searching the hillside for prey, and when he took off and pounced on a deer, he retreated to a cave he was fond of and ate his catch. Smaller animals were caught and consumed before he was satisfied and we headed home. He glided into the back yard, saying he was ready for a sleep.

I ignored my phone, hoping whoever had phoned earlier didn't call again. A quick shower and dinner and I settled in to read my latest book as the light faded from the sky and the horizon was ringed in orange and pink. Sipping my tea, I lay on the couch rather than sit, but something was bleating under the cushion.

That damned phone. If it was my friends trying to mess with my head, seeing if I really would pick up, I'd get my dragon to singe their hair. That'd serve them right for teasing me. But it kept vibrating, and I grabbed it, ready to throw it against the wall. I checked the display, wanting to know who the fool was who was toying with a dragon shifter.

But the number was private, and they'd tried three times to get a hold of me, the first being just before I shifted. Maybe some telemarketer who refused to take an unanswered call as a sign they should stop.

I got up to make tea, and the phone beeped again, but this time it was a voice message. I wandered back, expecting to be told I had to buy gold as it was a safe haven in times of trouble or to follow some newfangled diet that would see me living for longer than any human. Newsflash, I wasn't human.

But when I replayed it, a breathless voice stumbled over words before choking out a message.

"Sandy… it's D-Damon. If… you're there, p-please pick up."

He paused, and the rest of the message sounded as though it was being shot out of a machine gun.

"George was playing with his friends and climbing a fence he shouldn't have. He didn't make it over and became impaled on the spike."

He took a breath and whimpered, the sound of which had the blood in my veins turning to ice. My body was so brittle, I expected my dragon would have to unleash his fire to bring me back to a normal temperature.

"He's in surgery, Sandy, and I'm just sitting here alone waiting to hear if he's okay."

Damon sobbed, and I clutched my heart. My dragon wanted to go be with the guy, but I had no idea who he was other than his first name.

But he continued saying he was at the Regis University Hospital, and he pleaded with Sandy to be with him.

I'll fly there, my beast insisted.

But there'd be a small problem of having no clothes when I arrived. The hospital was in the city. It'd take thirty minutes to get there. I had my phone and keys and was out the door and in the car in under a minute, not bothering to turn off the lights or lock the doors.

I broke the speed limit getting to town but had to slow down when I reached the city limits. If I was stopped for speeding, my dragon might lose it and shift in the car. That would not be pretty, and it'd create chaos with humans who witnessed it.

The hospital parking lot was almost full, and I drove around a few times before finding a spot. At my beast's urging, I raced to the elevator and pressed the button too many damned times waiting for it to arrive. I finally gave up and took the stairs.

There was a line of people at the information desk, so I checked the directory and found the children's ward. Or should it be surgical. I wasn't sure. Once again, I flung myself up the stairs, arriving panting and sweaty before being directed to the correct floor.

I charged up to the nurse's desk, asking for George, but in my panic, I'd forgotten about privacy laws. The nurse glared at me as I didn't even know the kid's family name, which in their eyes, probably made me suspicious.

"Father is Damon?" I tried one last time. "He called me, terrified about his son injuring himself and being in surgery."

"Usually family members, friends, or colleagues know the person's family name." She sniffed as I leaned forward trying to catch a glimpse of the computer. "And if you don't leave, I'll call security."

She stood, one hand on the phone, and I pictured some burly guy hefting me in the elevator and tossing me out the front door. My face would go on a list and I'd be banned from the hospital.

Forget that guy. My dragon was peeking over my shoulder and behind me, sniffing.

Are you kidding me?No way was I taking no for an answer. I'd go downstairs, away from the nurse, and regroup. I had to come up with a plan. Stealing a doctor's uniform was one option.

There's someone else here.

There are tons of people on this floor alone. My beast was annoying me with his people watching.

There's one very special person here in the hospital.

Yes, and we came to find him. I didn't usually snap at my beast, but he deserved it when a man was in pain.

Our mate is here. I scent him.

What?No, we're here for Damon. Mate or no mate, we had a duty to ease Damon's pain. A mate can wait.