Page 23 of Ensnared (The Dragon Captured #1)

A fter giving me that amazing gift, Axel practically disappears. At least, it feels that way. He’s gone all day, and most every night, too. Either Gordon or Rufus, sometimes both, are tasked to watch over us, typically in human form so they’re less scary to Fluff Dog.

She’s not very smart, but she really brightens everyone’s mood.

Yesterday, I caught Rufus feeding her half a sandwich. He was grinning. So no matter how much they grumble and malign her, I know at least some of it’s a show.

Working with the humans that have been assigned to me is depressing, but even that becomes a bit routine.

I’m pretty sure that hand-to-hand combat will be useless for them, but it’s almost the only thing I know, so that’s what I teach them as well.

Being able to compel them to do things makes my job much easier.

No one can tell me they don’t have the coordination to do something—I just override their inner Eeyore and make them.

But at the end of our training sessions each day, when I assign them their post-training tasks—usually a few hours of work at some kind of distribution center—I’m beat. The best thing about every day is when I come home and bask in the afternoon and evening with the rugrats.

“Come on,” Sammy says as I walk in the door. “You said that when Liz came back in, you’d think about it.”

I should have no idea what they’re talking about, but Sammy’s like a Pomeranian with a flip-flop. Even when he has no hope of actually shredding it, he just keeps his teeth in there, trying his best.

“He doesn’t want to play Reign of Dragoness,” I say. “Real dragons don’t play silly games like that.”

“That’s not true,” Rufus says. “We play, but we hate to lose.”

Sammy leans closer. “I promise I’ll let you win. . .the first time.”

Jade shakes her head. “You are so getting eaten.”

Sammy scowls. “Nuh-huh. Rufus would never eat me.” Rufus sounds like Wufus, but Sammy’s faith in the dragon conveys just fine.

“Only because you never take a bath, so you’d taste nasty,” Coral says.

“He’d eat you so you’d stop crabbing at everyone,” Sammy says.

Rufus arches one eyebrow. “I wouldn’t eat any of you.”

For a split second, it warms my heart. My rugrats are so cute that even dragons like them.

“You’re all too small for me to bother with.” His grin is toothy.

Sammy huffs. “If you have to eat one of us, I’d be the best one.”

This conversation has taken some very strange turns.

“Dad would be the best one,” Jade says. “He’s the biggest in our family.”

Ah, Dad. When I sigh, I realize that Coral and Jade sighed at exactly the same time. We’re all hoping he’s alright. It stinks not knowing.

“My dad could probably beat you up in a fight.” Sammy clearly has no idea what’s appropriate to say yet. “But he wouldn’t, because he’s really polite.”

“Did your dad teach Liz to fight?” Rufus asks.

“Nah,” Sammy says. “She used to have nightmares, so they took her to lots of fighting champions. That’s why she’s so good. Scary stuff makes you way scarier, so when I’m all grown, no one will be able to beat me.”

“I hope Dad’s alright,” Coral says, absently shuffling cards.

“I’m praying for him,” Jade says.

“You should save your prayers for us,” Sammy says. “We’re the ones living with the bad dragons.”

Rufus ruffles his hair. “I won’t let any of them kill you, big guy.”

“Me either.” Gordon drops into a chair next to Sammy. “Now tell me how I can beat you at this game so I won’t get angry and eat you as revenge.”

I didn’t think they’d really play, but both dragons listen patiently as a six-year-old explains the rules of a basic ladder-style card game. They proceed to both lose to that same little boy, which makes him beam.

Maybe it’s all in my head, because out loud, they both protest vehemently about the pain of their tragic loss, but I think they’re both smiling when they head back outside for their patrols.

Over the next few weeks, I complete training on my first fifty, settling them into small part-time jobs each afternoon as well.

They add fifty more, which figures, and once I have them ready, they bring another hundred.

You’d think that having two hundred and ten humans under my command would be hard, but after you figure out how to set up rules and push them out, it’s pretty simple to manage.

Actually, it’s far, far too easy.

Penelope still comes by sometimes, but usually only when she’s figured out something new.

“The visor’s an important tool,” she says when she comes by this time, “but you might be surprised by how much you can do now without it. I think the bond with the blessed actually makes us stronger in a lot of ways.”

“Ways that help us betray our people more and more.”

She hisses. “Stop saying things like that. Static is always listening.”

Yes, her dragon’s name is Static . I don’t laugh, but only because she says her stupid master’s always monitoring her. The last thing I need is another electric shock therapy session. I’m still twitching occasionally from the last two hits I took.

I’m a lot less nervous about moving around the camp now that I’m wearing the three daggers Axel gave me. Maybe he’s less nervous about me now that I have them, too. Maybe that’s why he’s gone so much.

I almost fall into a pretty low-stress routine, staying in my little corner of camp, forcing my two hundred humans through their daily exercises, and playing games with the kids.

Yes, we’re prisoners of war, but we’re comfortable enough, and I start to feel pretty safe.

Sometimes I even forget that we don’t want to be here.

And I can’t admit this to anyone , not even to myself for fear that he’ll sense it, but I almost miss Axel when he’s gone, which is most of the time.

It’s a stupid thing to think. Traitorous, even.

I have no idea what he’s doing, and that should really be my lamentation. If we do escape, which I think about less and less, what will I be able to tell the humans about the dragons? Not much. A pathetic amount, given that I’m bonded to one.

In a rare moment of guilt, I actually sneak away from the house and take a look around.

If I manage to stumble on something valuable, maybe I can use it in some way.

Maybe I could discover something about the heart that could help me track it back to its hiding place.

Maybe I could observe something about the dragons’ plans that could benefit the humans if we’re ever rescued or if we escape. Or maybe, I don’t know.

Sitting at the house and running through the motions with a massive group of mind-controlled humans is not enough. It feels wrong to have become so complacent in my lot.

Am I kicking a hornet’s nest?

Yes.

But I’m scared of who I’m becoming. Even though Axel’s rarely around, his two men always are, so we can’t sneak out without being seen. Even if we did, there are roving patrols of earth dragons all over the area. We’re in the epicenter of the earth dragon quarters.

On top of that, there are literally thousands upon thousands of humans now, crawling all over the place.

On boats. In cars. On bikes. Walking around.

They’re going to jobs. They’re running the power plant.

They’re staffing grocery stores, but as distribution centers.

The dragons don’t make us use money. They simply ask that people take what they need, and they require everyone to work a fair amount in return.

Where the food is coming from, I’m not really sure.

You’d think that the supply chain from anywhere outside of dragon headquarters would have run dry, but I guess when you have an army of flying nightmares, you can pretty much hijack whatever trucks and trains you want, or raid any supply warehouses you need.

If he would ever come by, maybe I could pry some information out of Axel. As a prince, surely he’s connected. But he spends all his time doing only dragons know what, leaving me to train and retrain humans that will probably never need to do a single bit of fighting.

I’m wandering aimlessly toward the edge of the earth dragon territory, my hand caressing the tiny hilts of my three venom-dipped daggers, when I hear a disturbance.

It’s gunfire.

I haven’t heard that in quite some time.

Guns are kind of a waste with dragons. The bullets can’t pierce their scales, and even if they did, they’d heal from such small punctures almost immediately.

In order to kill a dragon, you’d better blow it to smithereens or decapitate it, and both are pretty hard to do.

You’d think the humans would have figured that out by now.

I jog in the direction of the sound, fully aware that I might be the only one anywhere near who would be injured by a stray bullet.

That’s why I sneak very slowly, and I try to stay behind things while I check out the new area.

I’m peering around the corner when a dozen men burst through the back door of a building, several of them clearly speaking into earpieces.

These are my people.

Warriors, here to slay some dragons.

Maybe more than anything else, this is why I’m wandering around.

It feels like I’ve forgotten who I am. Like, somehow the bond and the magic and the time I’ve spent with the enemy has fundamentally changed me.

That thought might be the most terrifying—without even using his bond to force me, has Axel already tunneled out what makes me me ?

Being out here is the first time I’ve felt alive in weeks—since the silver dragon attack, really.

That’s also, coincidentally, the last time I spent more than five minutes around Axel.

I’m sure that’s not it, though. I wouldn’t come all the way out here just to try and get myself into trouble so I could grab his attention.

That would be idiotic.