Page 93 of Ensnared

“Maybe you should shift for a little bit,” I say. “Just an idea. I mean, you can do what you want, obviously, but like, we could talk better if you weren’t likely to accidentally broil me for saying the wrong thing.”

Azar stares at me for a moment, and then I hear the same engine-revving sound I’m used to hearing, and there’s a dark cloud of reddish smoke, and then his human form emerges, wearing a black suit, a charcoal shirt, and a deep, blood-red tie.

“This look really works for you.”

Axel blinks and glances down at his suit. He snorts. “Stupid magic just takes over whenever I’m not thinking.”

I slow clap. “Bravo, magic. Nicely played.”

“I mean it, Liz. No one can know.”

“Why’s it such a big secret?” I walk toward him slowly, wondering how much of him is really the same as the person I’ve been around the past few weeks. Is he the guy who has saved me, who has kept my siblings safe, and who has put up with Gideon? Or is the real Azar the massive red beast who melts dragons’ tails off and. . .oh, heavens. Eats nuclear bombs. “Are you really fine?” I step toward him again, my hands lifting to touch his arm and run down it lightly. “You ate a nuclear warhead.”

“Three,” he says. “I actually really liked them. It was like getting some kind of. . .I don’t know. A jolt of energy unlike any I’ve had. It was delightful.”

He really doesn’t seem any worse for the wear. “But you aren’t answering. Why can’t anyone know about the Axel-Azar axis of evil?”

Axel turns away from me, leaning against the side of the playset. It’s a really funny image. The dragon-man who just foiled all the humans’ efforts to destroy him is leaning against a fire-engine red and royal blue kids’ slide.

“I’m not exactly on your side,” I admit. “But I’m not really your enemy, either.” I realize as I say it that I mean it. Mostly. Sure, if I could destroy him, I might do it. But since I can’t, at least, not without dying before I can complete any attempt, I’d rather try to convince him to do the minimum damage while he’s here looking for this heart thing.

“You keep forcing me to spare the creature who wants to kill you,” he says.

“She’s bonded to my mother,” I say. “Would you want your mother to die?”

“I never knew my mother.” He shrugs. “Sure, you can kill her if she’s attacking me.”

He never knew his mother? That’s depressing. Or maybe not. Maybe that’s normal for dragons. “Hey.” Something occurs to me, as I review our recent interactions. “You told me you’d talk to Azar, but you didn’t know what he’d say.” I whack him on the shoulder. “You liar.”

Axel frowns. “I couldn’t very well tell you that he already knew and would take it under advisement.”

“You almost killed her.”

“Your mother isn’t my top priority,” he says.

“What is, then? This heart thing?”

He steps inside of my guard, his face hovering over mine. “I find that you distract my focus. When you’re around, I can’t always prioritize our real goal.”

Mr. Dragon Baddie almost just said that I’m his priority. I mean, he didn’t. He said I’m a distraction, but his answer was dangerously close to that. “I’m sorry for causing you distress,” I say, “but my entire world is at stake right now, so I may not be making measured decisions, either.”

He’s still standing right next to me, almost unnaturally still. His eyes slowly slide down my face, finally stopping on my mouth. “You stole my swords.”

That is not what I thought he’d say.

My entire body’s trembling—he may be a terrible, awful dragon prince, but he feels like a terrible, awful man in this moment. A man I’ve seen shirtless. A man whose rippling abs have made my mouth go dry. A man whose breath has the capacity to fog my brain. A man whose undivided attention makes me forget my priorities.

My brain really needs to focus around him. He’s accusing me of stealing his property right now.

“I think, if you want to be technical,” I say, “they’re really more my swords.”

“How so?” His eyes shift back up to mine, and I breathe an embarrassingly audible sigh of relief.

“You can’t remove them from the stone.” I duck underneath his arm and hop up on the slide. Then I scamper up it and stand at the top. “But I can.”

“I gave you daggers,” he says.

“After I used them, you never replaced them.”