Rise of the Underdogs: (Book 1) COLTON

Chapter 1

My friends are assholes. Not in the cruel, backstabbing kind of way — more like the emotionally constipated, socially questionable kind. Neil spends so much time tangled up in his own thoughts that he barely speaks to anyone anymore. He’s got that haunted look, like he’s constantly replaying something in his head that no one else can see. Dreson isn’t much better. He drifted off for a while, too — not because of any fight or fallout, just because that’s how he copes. No competition between them, but if there were medals for brooding, they’d both be wearing gold.

Still, I love those two like brothers. Their humor’s darker than mine, sure, but it’s part of their charm. Dreson’s got a twisted streak — not in a dangerous way, just in that “laughs at things no one else finds funny” kind of way. Mention a demonic horror flick and he’ll panic-walk out of the room like it’s chasing him. It’s petty, yeah, but I find it hilarious. Doesn’t mean I care enough to stop teasing him about it.

Ha. Joke’s on you. I don’t give a solid damn.

Well… I do. But at the same time, I don’t. It’s complicated. It’s not that I didn’t want to be their friend — I did, more than anything. I just never expected someone like me, someone who started at the bottom of the barrel, to get a second glance from literal royalty. I mean, these guys weren’t just pack members. They were born into power, into legacy. And me? I was just trying to survive without getting stepped on.

We’ve been glued together since we were eight — me, Neil, and Dreson. We learned the ins and outs of the Druid system mostly by listening to Dreson vent like it was his second job. He’d rant about rituals, politics, and the weight of expectations like he was unloading bricks from his chest. Neil would listen in silence, and I’d crack jokes to keep the mood from sinking too deep.

Then came Kaden. That little bugger showed up with perfect timing, like the universe finally decided to throw me a bone. He matched my kind of fun right out the gate — quick with a comeback, sharp with sarcasm, and somehow still wrapped tight in rulebooks. He was the kind of guy who could quote regulations while pulling off something completely reckless. I liked him instantly.

I tracked him down the night of the funeral. Shadow Storm was torn to hell, and grief hung in the air like smoke — thick, choking, impossible to ignore. I’d lost family, too. Neil sulked like he owned the rights to heartbreak, and honestly, I didn’t blame him. But watching Kaden call him “baby Alpha” and somehow live to tell the tale? That was hilarious. Seeing him earn a permanent spot on the Untouchable list — the one reserved for people you don’t mess with — was hands down the best part of the whole damn day.

Like I said — fun.

Linking up with that crew turned out to be one of the smartest decisions I’ve ever made. At first, it was just about survival — finding people who didn’t treat me like I was disposable. But getting close to Kaden changed everything. He had this way of seeing through the noise, cutting through the chaos with a grin and a rulebook. Once I earned his trust, the rest started falling into place. Being tight with Kaden earned me a spot next to Neil, and that meant something. It meant I wasn’t just the Omega kid tagging along anymore.

Neil watched me for a while, probably waiting for me to flake like so many others had. But I didn’t. I stuck around, through the grief, through the fights, through the silence. And when he finally gave me the nod — the quiet, unspoken agreement that I’d be his Beta when he stepped up as Alpha of Shadow Storm — I knew I’d crossed a line I never thought I’d reach.

Shadow Storm wasn’t just a name. It was a legacy. A bloodline of strength, loyalty, and unshakable purpose. I wasn’t born into it, didn’t have the pedigree or the prestige. But damn if I wasn’t going to earn my place in it. Every bruise, every sleepless night, every moment of doubt — I’d take it all if it meant proving I belonged.

Of course, I had to test the waters. Calling Neil’s bluff felt like a good idea at the time. I figured I’d stir the pot, see how serious he was. So I went after Dreson — not in a cruel way, just enough to push buttons. Worst decision ever. Dreson doesn’t punch like someone trying to make a point. He punches like someone trying to rearrange your soul. I swear, he’s had it in for me since day one, and that day? He made sure I remembered it.

I’ve officially learned my lesson. Well… mostly. I won’t piss him off again. Not unless I’m itching for a fight and need someone who never backs down and never throws soft. He’s reliable like that — brutal, but reliable.

From the time we were kids, I knew Dreson had the biggest crush on Neil. It wasn’t obvious to everyone, but I saw it. I never called him out on it, though. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t ready to deal with it, and dragging it into the open would’ve felt like betrayal. That kind of vulnerability? You don’t expose it unless you’re trying to hurt someone. And I wasn’t.

Ah, I digress. Dre would absolutely lose his mind if he knew I said that. I think he thinks I’m stupid. He’s wrong. I’m not stupid — I just get bored. Fast. And when I do, I tend to stir things up. No one really gets that except my friends. They understand my humor, even when it’s twisted. They know how to drag me back from the edge when I go too far. Which, let’s be honest, is often.

I joke a lot. It’s easier than admitting I don’t know what the hell I’m doing half the time. Easier than saying I’m scared, or lost, or just trying to keep up with people who seem to have it all figured out.

Eh, whatever. Let’s move on.

My story’s got rings in it — no joke. Well, kind of a joke. There’s suffer-ring, bore-ring, torture-ring. That’s the mood. It’s a circus of chaos, and I’m the guy juggling fire while pretending I’m not getting burned.

Okay, okay — I’ll stop. When I’m dead.

Time to charge headfirst into the first day of freaking high school without Dreson holding the other end of the rope. For the first time in a long time, I’m walking into the unknown without my usual backup. And I’m not sure if that’s terrifying… or exactly what I need.

******

My morning started out like clockwork. The smell of bacon and cinnamon drifted through the house, courtesy of my loving mother, who believed breakfast should be a full-blown event. Pancakes stacked like towers, eggs perfectly scrambled, and enough syrup to drown a small village — all waiting for me at the table. Check.

My bookbag was stuffed to the brim with assignments I had no intention of looking at until absolutely necessary. Most of them were crumpled, half-finished, or just plain forgotten. Check.

My mini cooler — yes, I carry one — was packed with snacks. Chips, granola bars, a couple of apples to make it look like I cared about nutrition, and two cans of soda I wasn’t supposed to have. Check.

Car keys? Nope. Still no license, still no freedom. That was a hard no.

Just as I was shoving my feet into my sneakers, someone honked outside. I panicked, hopping around on one foot while trying to jam the other shoe on. My balance gave out, and I crashed backward into the coat rack. The entire thing came down like a collapsing tower. Boots, hats, scarves — even that stupid umbrella that never stays closed — all rained down on me like I’d summoned a storm of winter gear.

“Damn it, Colt,” my father muttered as he walked in and started digging me out of the mess. His tone was tired, like he’d seen this movie a hundred times and still couldn’t believe the ending.

“Keep this up and your mother’s going to have your ass on a silver platter.”

I groaned, brushing a scarf off my face. “I’d prefer gold, honestly. But whatever makes her happy.”

He gave me the look — the one that said I love you, but you’re exhausting. “Try, just try, to stay out of trouble at school today. I’m not in the mood to hear another lecture about you being responsible. Keep your damn nose clean.”

I sighed loud enough to rattle the windows. “Yes, Father. May I go now?”

That promise? Doomed from the start.

By mid-morning, I’d already been sent to the office. Twice.