I woke with no real clue what time it was or how long I’d slept.

  The problem with windowless bunkers.

  Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling.

  I was free?

  Chaos lingered at the back of my mind, quiet—giving me time to process.

  I closed my eyes and forced myself back to what I had done.

  You don’t have to, Chaos said gently.

  “I need to.”

  He needed to understand how I survived.

  The cell they kept me in was tied to who I was.

  So anyone who wasn’t me could enter.

  One night, I decided I had to escape if I ever wanted to see Kathy give birth.

  I placed my hands on the spell.

  The magic surged through me, blocking me from exiting.

  I used it.

  Turned it inward.

  Let it show me every marker that identified me as me to the spell.

  Feelings were the first thing to go.

  Some memories.

  Carl hadn’t been my name.

  Neither had Vicars.

  Those went too.

  Kathy was the only thing I fought the spell to keep.

  She named me Carl when I returned.

  We took her maiden name.

  Moved off-grid because I was broken.

  Still—

  she loved me, despite everything I gave up.

  Wow. You loved that much? Chaos whispered.

  “Still do,” I said softly, glancing toward the pot and bowl.

  I rolled off the bed and stared into space.

  “How do I rebuild myself?”

  I honestly don’t know, Chaos said.

  I don’t think anyone has done what you did.

  Just take one step to start, another voice said.

  A voice that sounded like me…

  but alive in a way I wasn’t.

  “Uh… Chaos?”

  Your dragon seems to be awake now, he chuckled.

  “Is that a good thing?” I rubbed the back of my neck.

  You’ll see, the new voice said—vibrant, excited, almost bouncing.

  Name? Something you can call me to make things easier?

  I blinked.

  Kathy had chosen Jack’s name before he was born.

  I had flimsy scraps of memories—bar fights, the military, Taro, smoke, magic, panic.

  “I’m the least qualified one to give you a name,” I said.

  Do it… he purred.

  Watch how good it feels…

  Chaos and I both gawked at him.

  Well then, Chaos said, stunned.

  His personality is… unexpected.

  You could definitely say that.

  I decided to just say the first name that came to mind and be done with it.

  “Guess I’ll name him Dragoon.”

  Chaos made choking noises.

  Dragoon?! he wheezed.

  I love it! Dragoon said immediately—

  and I had the weird, undeniable feeling he was wagging his tail.

  This was a mistake.

  Not on my part—

  but I was pretty sure this was not what Taro had planned.

  One step at a time.

  Rebuilding myself.

  I glanced at the dishes.

  Then rose to my feet and walked toward the bunker door.

  Safety was the bunker.

  Always had been.

  I bit my lip as I stared at the barricade.

  I reached out a shaking hand and placed it on the door.

  Rough wood under my fingers.

  “Will I feel any different if I go outside and shift?” I whispered.

  Yes and no, Chaos said—sounding like he was trying to be diplomatic.

  Dragoon, on the other hand, had zero impulse control.

  Yes. So decide if you’re ready for that step. I can wait for you to want emotions back. Your mind is a cool place to explore.

  Why did my dragon sound so much like my son, but with my voice?

  That was the truly scary part.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I drew a deep breath and stared at the barricade.

  Then glanced back at the neatly organized bunker.

  The unwashed dishes that begged me back into safety.

  “I really do hate this,” I said, louder than before.

  The option to live or the safety of the cage? Chaos asked.

  “The cage.”

  My chest tightened.

  “And the realization that if I take the step outside… there’s no returning to this.”

  So what have you to lose? Dragoon asked.

  For the first time in years, the answer was nothing.

  I turned fully toward the door.

  “If emotions return…”

  I licked my lips and leaned my head against the wood.

  ADHD.

  The thing I made sure Jack knew he had.

  The thing Kathy said she missed most about me.

  The part I thought was broken long before all this.

  The thing that helped me think outside the box.

  The thing that let me escape.

  My head was quiet without it—

  but Kathy said I changed.

  “When I see Jack again… will he like me with it?”

  I believe he loves you no matter what, Chaos said.

  Though your flavor of ADHD may not be the same as his.

  I smirked.

  “Honestly can’t remember.”

  I squared my shoulders and lifted the barricade.

  A shiver of dread ran through me.

  It always did when I left here.

  Habit.

  Like those blasted dishes.

  It’s not the dishes you hate, is it? Chaos asked.

  “It’s the cage of routine,” I said, louder than before.

  “It feels wrong. Like that wasn’t how I was meant to be.”

  Then let me out, Dragoon said.

  I slipped through the bunker door and didn’t shut it behind me.

  It might no longer be a cage… but there was definite wisdom in keeping a bolt-hole.

  “How big a space do you need?”

  Taro’s dragon had been huge.

  I looked around.

  The ground at the base of the ravine was about a pickup truck and a half wide, running half a mile in either direction.

  Oh. This is plenty big enough, Dragoon said—then paused and added softly,

  It won’t be fun the first time.

  I glanced down at the dirt.

  “I can’t really feel pain at all right now,” I said quietly.

  Well… that might be a plus side to this, Dragoon admitted.

  I stood at the bottom of the ravine, staring at the strip of dirt like it might suddenly tell me what to do.

  My breath fogged in the cool air.

  “I don’t know how to start this,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

  You already have, Dragoon said softly.

  You stepped outside.

  My throat tightened.

  Then the pain hit.

  Not sharp.

  Not sudden.

  Just… pressure.

  A deep, spreading ache beneath my skin, like something had been waiting too long in too small a space.

  I hissed and clenched my fists.

  Slow, Chaos murmured.

  Don’t fight it. Fighting makes it worse.

  “Not fighting,” I grunted.

  “Just—processing.”

  Bones creaked.

  My knees buckled, and I caught myself on my hands.

  Dirt pressed into my palm.

  Cold.

  Real.

  Here.

  My back arched as heat flared through my spine.

  Like the magic was digging fingers into the structure of me and pulling it apart.

  It’s okay, Dragoon whispered, gentle now.

  I wasn’t sure who he was reassuring—him or me.

  My vision blurred.

  Not from tears—those didn’t come anymore—but from the sheer force of change.

  A shoulder popped.

  Then the other.

  The sound was awful.

  My fingers curled against the dirt, nails lengthening, darkening, stiffening into something not human.

  A snarl tore from my throat.

  “I thought I couldn’t feel pain,” I rasped.

  You couldn’t feel emotional pain, Dragoon said softly.

  This is physical. This is different.

  A wing joint unfolded from beneath my shoulder blades—slow, stiff, like unfolding paper that had been creased too long.

  I cried out.

  Or maybe that was a gasp.

  Or maybe both.

  Magic surged up my spine again, pulling me taller, then forward, then down.

  My ribs stretched and reshaped.

  The pressure was unbearable—yet something deep inside me relaxed with every shift, as if parts of me had been locked in the wrong shape for years.

  You’re doing it, Chaos murmured, proud and mournful all at once.

  Carl… let go.

  I exhaled.

  For the first time in decades, I let something happen without planning it.

  My jaw elongated.

  Teeth sharpened.

  My skin rippled and darkened like ink spreading through water.

  The world tilted.

  My heart pounded in a rhythm that wasn’t quite human anymore.

  Pain washed through me—

  but beneath it,

  something else rose:

  Lightness.

  Breath.

  Movement.

  Possibility.

  The last crack—my tailbone—hurt the worst.

  It snapped, lengthened, unwound like a whip forming itself from my spine.

  I collapsed onto my side, panting.

  Then—

  the air hit my lungs differently.

  Cooler.

  Sharper.

  Alive.

  I opened my eyes.

  The world glowed.

  Edges were clearer.

  Shadows deeper.

  Magic hummed in the stones.

  I wasn’t human anymore.

  A dark-scaled dragon—small, sleek, powerful—lifted its head from the ground.

  You did it, Dragoon whispered through me, full of awe.

  I tried to speak, but the sound was a low rumble that vibrated the earth beneath me.

  Chaos laughed—soft, delighted, proud.

  Welcome back to yourself, Carl.

  And for the first time in years—

  I felt something.

  Wonder.

  Excitement.

  Relief.

  We won’t stay shifted long, Dragoon said.

  No one does their first time. But there will be whiplash.

  Whiplash?

  Yours will probably be worse, Chaos sighed.

  Your dragon only feels primal instincts. Your human body will be unlocking years of emotional suppression and—well—your ADHD.

  I’m sorry. It won’t be easy.

  Neither was giving it up.

  I ground my fangs.

  Let’s get it over with.

  The reassuring mental caresses from Chaos and Dragoon were… not as reassuring as they thought.

  What the hell was about to happen?

  Remember to breathe, Dragoon said cheerfully.

  Wait—

  WHAT THE ACTUAL—

  My form dissolved—like I was coming apart into swirling shadows—and yes, breathing definitely took manual effort.

  Air scraped into my lungs, too cold, too sharp.

  Then the world slammed into me.

  A rush of—

  fear

  joy

  pressure

  lightness

  grief

  hope

  noise

  color

  memory

  pain

  relief

  panic

  something like laughter

  something like loss

  —hit me all at once.

  My knees buckled.

  The ground rushed up to meet me, and I hit it human-shaped again, gasping like I’d run miles with no oxygen.

  “WH—”

  I tried to speak, but the word broke into three different emotions on the way out.

  My heart jackhammered.

  My chest seized.

  My hands shook violently.

  My vision went white at the edges.

  Too many feelings.

  Too fast.

  Too bright.

  Too loud inside my own skull.

  Carl—Carl—breathe, Chaos insisted.

  His voice was steady, but I could feel his alarm.

  This is normal! Dragoon said, absolutely delighted.

  You just feel things again! Isn’t it GREAT?

  I curled onto my side.

  “NO—It’s—too—much—”

  The words trembled out of me.

  My voice cracked.

  My throat burned.

  A sob tore loose.

  Not a loud one.

  Barely a sound at all.

  Just a small, broken exhale that punched straight out of my chest.

  My hands flew to my face.

  Wet.

  Not rain.

  Not sweat.

  Tears.

  My breath hitched.

  I couldn’t stop it.

  Another shuddering inhale.

  Another tear.

  Chaos went very quiet.

  Carl…

  Soft.

  Awed.

  Like he was witnessing something sacred.

  Dragoon hummed, warm as firelight.

  Feels awful now. It’ll feel amazing later, I promise.

  I shook my head against the dirt.

  “I feel—too much—” I whispered.

  Yes, Chaos said gently.

  That means you’re alive again.

  One thought after another surfaced.

  They circled like vultures—

  some disappearing, others swooping back,

  all of them loud.

  I felt tired and buzzing at the same time, like I couldn’t regulate anything I was feeling.

  A random thought popped into my head.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Why were they all completely unrelated,

  and yet somehow connected

  in the worst, most obvious way possible?

  “I need coffee,” I groaned.

  Yup. That tracks, Chaos chuckled.

  When was the last time you had coffee? Dragoon asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  “Right before we were captured,” I managed, sitting up with a wince.

  “Oh crap… it was bad. Haven’t had any since. Really worried Kathy at first.”

  More memories slammed into me.

  “Guys… if I ever decide to do something like this again, find a way to talk me out of it.”

  Chaos chuckled.

  I flipped off the air.

  See? More lively already, Chaos laughed.

  A second groan escaped me.

  “Guess what the one thing I absolutely do not have stockpiled.”

  Uh… would it be coffee?

  My dragon giggled at me.

  I slumped back onto the ground.

  “Fuck me.”

  “Stupid question, Chaos?”

  Yes?

  He sounded way too entertained.

  “What are my chances of using chaos magic to make a caffeinated beverage?”

  I felt him blink.

  Then a long silence.

  I… guess that depends on how creative you are with it.

  Guy who’d just rebooted with ADHD, emotions,

  and was in desperate need of something to calm the mental storm?

  Yeah.

  I could wrangle up some creativity for that.

  I pushed myself to my feet, swaying a little.

  “Coffee can wait,” I muttered.

  Good choice, Chaos said warmly.

  Bad choice, Dragoon whined.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Surviving a reboot, a shift, and emotional whiplash was enough for one day.

  “Shower. Bed.”

  Simple.

  Manageable.

  Two steps to rebuild myself.

  I headed back inside.