Page 30 of Ensnared (The Dragon Captured #1)

I thought, when that insane electro dragon yanked me up into the sky, that was the highest I would ever fly.

I thought it was the highest I’d ever want to go.

But now, riding Azar, the city below’s barely visible.

Some of that is thanks to cloud cover, of course, but a lot of it is that we’re higher than I thought humans could fly.

I can’t help wondering how much farther I can go before I won’t be able to breathe.

I must be clutching him pretty tightly, and maybe dramatically gasping for breath a bit, because he addresses my concern before I’ve even voiced it. I’m able to generate enough oxygen for you. Don’t worry.

“You can generate. . .” Asking him about science right now is probably pretty stupid. Instead, I squeeze his neck a little tighter, and then I inhale deeply. Fall in Houston can be pretty hit or miss, but it’s usually still fairly warm.

On the ground.

Up here, I’m freezing half to death. It’s totally worth it, though.

This is definitely a once in a lifetime kind of view.

It might be nicer if I hadn’t just been bitten on both my thigh and arm by dragons with dagger-sized teeth, and then grazed on the shoulder and side with a sword.

Even so, I’m lucky Azar showed up when he did.

I can probably heal from this with Axel’s help.

There’s no healing possible after becoming pavement jam.

“Thank you,” I say. “You saved my life again.”

But that makes me wonder why he’s the one saving me. The earth dragons may not be as powerful as the electro dragons, but he is a prince. Surely Axel could have marshaled his army and brought hordes of dragons over to save me. . .or something like that. “Is Axel okay?”

Aren’t you really just worried about your siblings?

“I’m worried about Axel, too,” I say. “Those stupid electro dragons—” I catch myself too late. “Er, I mean, the strike blessed who took me were trying to harm him.”

Axel can defend himself.

“Maybe, but why are they so angry?”

They’re jealous.

“That’s kind of your fault.”

If I hate him, they attack. If I like him, they attack. It’s a problem with our society, which is proving difficult to repair.

“Aren’t you the only one who can fix it?”

It’s treason to criticize the established power structure. The strike blessed are more powerful than the earth blessed. There’s nothing I can do to change that.

“But the way the powerful behave models behavior for the lesser creatures. As adults, it’s our job to teach our children good manners and ethical behavior.”

His head curves just a bit so his massive eye can see me. You have some insight, but you don’t understand the blessed enough to be helpful.

“Well, that’s not my fault.” I’ve been trying not to show how cold I am, but it’s getting harder and harder. My fingers are numb, and my grip’s getting weaker. An involuntary shiver runs through my body.

You’re cold.

“Aren’t you?”

His snort is definitely half-laugh. I’m fire and flame. I’m never cold.

“That must suck,” I say. “Being hot is the worst.”

He snorts, and flames burst from his nostrils. The air around us warms up.

My goosebumps finally go away.

But instead of blowing past the warmth immediately, the air around us stays warm. “Why’s it still not cold?”

I can regulate the temperature. I would’ve done it sooner had I known to.

“While I’m lodging complaints, what can you do about my leg wound?” I joke. “Because I think I’ve probably got another five minutes until I pass out from it. That’s an estimate, though, so it’s probably give or take four minutes either way.”

His head really does crane around this time. You’re bleeding. Quite a lot.

“I just fought three dragons,” I say, a little proud of myself. “But two of them chomped on me.”

I’m sorry I came too late.

“I think Axel can help.”

There’s nothing Axel can do that I can’t.

“Okay, maybe that’s true, but he’s my bonded.” I don’t say that I feel safer with the guy who doesn’t incinerate small towns, but I’m hoping he’ll intuit that last part.

I’m his best friend. You can trust me.

“Human factoid. When someone’s trustworthy, they generally don’t have to go around telling people they are.”

Now that the eminent danger’s past, my right arm’s throbbing so badly I want to cut it off, and my left leg both aches and stabs with every pulse of Azar’s monstrous wings. “Maybe make that a minute. I’m feeling pretty lightheaded.”

I’ll land now.

I want to be grateful, but I’m too busy hanging on for dear life.

Apparently land now means plunge straight toward the top of a skyscraper at Mach ten.

He whips his wings out at the last minute, and once again, I’m spared from becoming a Liz pancake.

At least it got the small amount of blood I had left pumping.

Wait. Maybe that’s bad. It is kind of pumping out .

I’m at least aware enough to recognize that a skyscraper is not the house I was expecting. “Where are we?”

It’s safe.

“Where’s Axel?” I may sound like a petulant child, but I’m hurting, and I’m scared, and I want the person who healed me last time.

I wouldn’t have guessed that dragons could sound so annoyed through their thoughts, but Azar keeps teaching me new things about them. He’s coming.

I practically collapse against his neck. “Oh, good.”

He walks several steps across the helipad inside what looks like a keyhole-shaped cutout in the top of a skyscraper. With my eyes closed, I realize that his neck’s surprisingly smooth and soft for something that’s covered in impenetrable scales.

“Where are we?” My voice sounds faint, even to me. I’m not sure whether he can hear me.

The signs call this place the JP Morgan Chase Tower. Now, it’s mine.

Ah, yes. Dragons like to possess things. Why am I not surprised he claimed one of the tallest towers in Houston? “But no one lived here. How can you. . .”

No human residence would accommodate me. The top floors are two stories tall, and below that, there are two levels of living space.

Probably for the important executives or something. Or, who knows? Maybe there’s a Mister Chase, or a Mister Morgan? I don’t really know much about rich people or posh penthouses, clearly.

Azar’s walking off the helipad when spots begin dancing across my eyes. “I think I’m about to pass out,” I whisper. “Humans do that when they lose a lot of blood.”

Elizabeth.

The way he says my name, it feels like a caress. “Again,” I whisper.

Elizabeth, stay with me. Axel will be here very soon.

But I can’t. No matter what I do, the darkness beckons. Finally, I can’t fight it any longer and it pulls me down, down, down.

When I finally wake up, I’m still tired. I’m so weary, so bone-deep exhausted that I wipe my eyes before opening them, but they still burn. Whatever room I’m in is bright, painfully bright. I cover my burning eyes with my hands.

I’m in a van with several people, but I don’t know them.

None of them is my mom or my dad. That makes me cry. “I want my mom.” I’m sucking my thumb. I know I’m not supposed to, but Mom’s not here to yell at me, so I can do what I want.

Only, when she doesn’t show up to yell, I’m sad. I thought she might.

The people in the van keep speaking words I can’t understand, and it’s cold. So, so cold. I shiver. I wrap my hands around my arms, but it doesn’t help much.

The man who’s driving looks back at me and says something I don’t understand. Then the woman next to me and the man in the front passenger seat both laugh. I don’t think what he said was nice. That means he shouldn’t have said it at all.

“Who are you?” I ask.

No one answers me.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Still nothing, but the woman next to me looks a little uncomfortable. She won’t meet my eye and keeps looking out the window instead.

“I’m scared,” I say. “I want my mom.”

“Your mother not here,” she snaps. “Quiet.”

She does speak some English. “Can you call her? I want to talk to her.”

“Quiet.” The man in the front passenger seat is wearing a large, wool cap. He scowls.

“No.” I glare at him. “I won’t be quiet. I want to see my mom.”

He throws his can at me, which happens to be full of beer, and it hits the side of my head. It hurts, and it also spills beer all over me. Now I’m colder, I smell, and my head aches. “I want my mom.” The tears return, but this time they’re mixed with something new.

Anger.

I clench my hands, but I’m too afraid to do anything.

Yet.

The ride goes on and on. No matter how many times I ask, no one tells me who they are or where we’re going. The ground’s covered with snow. The car’s freezing. Wherever we are, it’s nowhere near Houston.

Finally, the woman says something, and the men snap to attention. When I look ahead, I realize we’ve reached something. Something huge. A very tall, very scary looking snow-covered mountain. The van stops, and they force me to get out.

“I’m c-c-cold,” I say, my teeth chattering. “I don’t want to get out.”

“Here.” The woman hands me a coat that’s far too large, but I pull it on gratefully. It’s not easy to button, and it’s so big that I can’t seem to keep both shoulders in place, but it’s better than just my Hello Kitty hoodie, which is clearly not even close to warm enough.

She hasn’t been kind, but the woman has been a great deal better than either man, so when we start walking, I make sure to keep close to her. At first, the walk’s not so bad. It’s cold, but the more I move, the warmer I feel. They pass out sandwiches, but no one gives one to me, even when I ask.

We must’ve gone a very long way—more than the mile they sometimes make us walk at school—when I finally give up. “I can’t go any more.” I sit down on the rocky ground and fold my arms. “My legs hurt. I’m cold. I’m hungry. I’m not moving.”

The man who chucked the beer can at me tosses a rope around my neck and drags me until I fall forward on my hands and face. He barely gives me five seconds to get up before he’s pulling again. Blood’s dripping down the right side of my face, but no one else seems to care.