Page 35 of Ensnared (The Dragon Captured #1)

C haos would be a mild term for what breaks out among the gathered dragons.

The first round of missiles hits in four places, and dragon bodies are flung in every direction.

Luckily, none of them strike near Gordon and me.

Rufus has bounded up next to us, and he’s already itching to leave, gesturing at Gordon and shouting.

We’ve been ordered to the perimeter.

Gordon wheels around and begins to run, which doesn’t feel very brave when his leader’s under attack, but then again, he doesn’t have wings and it’s mostly an air battle here.

Since I’m just a passenger on his back, I don’t get much input on where we go.

I watch as a much larger jet approaches.

The dragons were warned, but whether they listened. . .

I’m sure that one’s carrying the nukes. Even though the fighter jets have already wheeled away, Azar’s not moving. He’s watching the bigger aircraft, and he looks totally calm—way less upset than when he was shouting at Ocharta moments before. In fact, he almost looks bored.

Doors open beneath the jet up ahead, and it drops a projectile, a much, much larger one. I’m sure it’s a nuclear warhead.

And it’s headed right for Azar.

I know he’s the devil, and I know that he’s the reason the humans haven’t stood a chance against the dragons. I even saw him roasting an entire neighborhood. I should be giddy. I should be relieved. This should be a patriotic moment, full of glee and joy.

But he’s also saved me.

Twice.

Axel says they’re only here to recover something they left, and he says that their attempts to communicate have all been met with attacks.

Maybe that’s why a tiny part of me is sad at the thought that Azar’s about to be destroyed.

Even so, I know it needs to happen. I know that the world must be safe again, and that means the dragons have to go.

Blowing them to kingdom come is the right move, even if it destroys me and all the other humans still captured within Houston.

But Azar doesn’t run. He doesn’t move even a hair.

He waits, unconcerned, until the warhead’s about to hit, and then he spreads his wings, opens his giant maw. . .

And he swallows it.

Gordon’s bounding away as quickly as possible, and I’m turned all the way around in the saddle, grasping the top of it with both hands, but I’m quite sure I see it correctly.

Azar just swallowed the nuclear bomb that the humans sent to kill him. He doesn’t even shudder. A moment later, his entire body shakes and he lights up, like a phosphorescent jellyfish, or a lantern that’s just been lit with a candle. Then he squats back on his haunches and launches into the air.

He looks ready to unleash hell.

Gordon stops running then, and we both look up at the sky.

The next few moments are some of the saddest of my life—the grimmest, too. Azar’s far faster than I realized, pivoting seemingly on a dime to completely roast jets anytime they come anywhere near.

Go, go, go , I want to cry out. Escape while you can.

Two more warheads are deployed, judging by their size, and two more are swallowed. Each time, he lights up a little brighter than the last, like they’re powering him up or something. Each time, my heart sinks just a bit lower.

In spite of their massive failure, the humans don’t pull back. I suppose if this is their big push, the generals won’t call them back easily.

I’m stuck counting, my heart sinking a little more with each, as Azar melts at least a dozen jets into slag. Others he bats down or redirects into the top of a building, but they all go the same place. Into another section of the skeleton of Houston.

My city.

My people.

Life as we knew it.

And now it’s all just gone.

He’s not alone, of course. All the dragons who were gathered for his little meeting surge into the fray.

The earth dragons, all except Gordon, have rushed to the perimeter, ready to take out surface troops and crush tanks.

Water dragons hit the rivers, creeks, and lakes, running, diving, and surging toward the gulf.

The electro dragons join Azar, diving and striking everything that moves in the air above, ensuring that the humans can’t do anything but fall back. . .or just fall.

I can’t help worrying about Sammy, Coral, Jade, and Gideon. He seemed so sure that they’d make it out, but did they? Was there enough time? Or will the earth dragons rushing to the perimeter catch them? It’ll be obvious, with the direction they’re traveling, that they’re not ensnared.

Actually, if I hadn’t convinced Gordon to bring me here, I’d be back home right now, probably marching with my poor, half-trained humans toward the earthen barricade, bracing myself to force them to attack their own kind to secure the dragon’s city.

“Why did you stop following Rufus?” I ask.

Axel wouldn’t want you to be put at risk.

Or is he more worried that, if he got close to the edge of their territory, I might unsheathe my swords and try to escape? “I can’t leave while Sammy, Coral, and Jade aren’t with me.”

Gordon grunts.

But it’s a matter of minutes before it’s all over.

Azar bugles once, then twice, and finally a third time overhead, and Gordon finally relaxes. It appears the humans have fallen back again.

I say a silent prayer that Sammy and the girls are alright. Gideon, too, though that seems greedy.

“Can you take me back home?” We’re in the center of the street at an intersection I’ve never seen before. There’s a high rise on one side and a medical plaza on the other. “Or do we have to?—”

But a large silver dragon that just passed overhead wheels around and drops to the ground in front of us.

Ocharta.

How convenient that you’re here.

“You look pretty when you smile,” I say. “I wonder why Azar wanted nothing to do with you. I guess personality does matter, even to dragons.”

Ocharta steps closer, her head angling a bit sideways. Today wasn’t going my way, but the humans have given me a gift.

“You’re a fan of nuclear candy as well?”

Gordon’s still beneath me, but his muscles are tight. I can tell he’s very, very nervous.

All the earth blessed are supposed to be near the perimeter. Imagine my surprise when I notice that one of them isn’t, and that he’s carrying a human.

“Axel’s close,” I lie. Although, when I feel for the bond, I realize he is heading this direction.

“I’ll call him over. I’m sure he can explain.

” Actually, I’m not at all sure he can explain why I’m here when I was told to stay put.

He’ll be furious, but I’m hoping he’ll reserve his anger for after I’m not about to be electrocuted.

I find the bond between us, and I give it a good tug .

I’m not sure whether that’ll keep him coming, but I hope it will.

Oh, do call him. That would allow me to rid myself of both of you at once, without any accountability.

He’s still moving closer, so he must have gotten the message. “Are you positive you could destroy him? He is a prince, after all. And he may not have wings, but he’s got thousands of dragons who answer to him.”

He can’t even force his human to use respectful words. Ocharta scoffs. Azar has always been blind when Axel was around. Once he’s gone, he’ll realize that I’ve been helping him. Things that hold us back should be eliminated.

I just need to keep her talking a little longer. Axel’s moving closer and closer, and surely he’ll have some other earth dragons with him. We were just under attack, after all.

“What’s your plan?” I ask. “You’re going to fry me, and then if you can manage it, you’ll kill him. Then Azar, who despises you, will suddenly find you irresistible?”

If Azar wanted me dead, he’d already have killed me. This is a dance you don’t understand, human.

“Actually, the only reason he didn’t kill you is that I begged him to spare your life.”

Ocharta straightens and her eyes blaze. Liar.

“You’re actually delusional. I didn’t realize there were mentally ill dragons.”

There’s no warning before she strikes, lightning bolts shooting toward Gordon and me and striking us dead center.

We used to have a bug zapper at our house, on our back porch.

I used to cheer when bugs died—if you’ve ever been bitten by a mosquito, you probably understand the sentiment.

But now? I actually feel a little bad about that.

See, our bug zapper had different settings.

If you were killing, say, small mosquitos, the lowest would work.

If you were plagued by horseflies, you might need the highest setting.

What that electro dragon hit me with in the house was for tiny critters. It hurt, but I recovered. Maybe it was because it was smaller. Maybe their place in the pecking order determines the strength of their attack. I don’t know.

What I do know is that Ocharta’s zap is quite a bit stronger than anything I ever imagined, and that old me would have died immediately.

My bond with Axel has made me stronger, strong enough to withstand a lot more pain, a lot more damage, and a lot more misery.

But in this case, I’m not sure how grateful I really am.

Dying by electrocution is not a good way to go.

After I bob in a sea of misery for a while, when I come to, I’m dangling from Gordon’s saddle by one leg, foam spewing out of my mouth, and my brains feel well and truly scrambled.

If he’s not already on his way, at least it should bring Axel running.

My legs are jelly. My arms feel like rubber bands that have been overstretched and snapped. My head’s pounding. But I’ve never been someone who just rolls over and gives up, no matter the punishment doled out.

Gordon’s spasming underneath me, and the twitches from his body knock some sense into me.

My hand’s trembling, but I force myself to sit up and grab the top of the saddle.

I pull my leg—wrenched badly, but not broken—loose from the saddle strap.

I clench my hands into fists to try and restore feeling in them.

What are you doing? Hold still, bait.

This time, I’m expecting her strike. “Sorry, Gordon.” I whip one sword free and slice the saddle strap, dropping to the ground in time to miss her next volley.

Poor Gordon takes the whole hit. Judging by his twitching, he’s still alive. I hate that I couldn’t deflect it entirely, but I can’t waste time on guilt. I’m sprinting, my speed dampened significantly by my exhaustion and misery, across the space that separates us, both swords now drawn.

Ocharta laughs. You’re a funny one. She bats me, like a cat would a lizard.

I roll sideways, barely retaining both of my swords. I land on my stomach, and I want to collapse, face first. She won’t kill me until Axel shows up, or at least, I don’t think she will. But hiding and avoiding her isn’t who I am. I shove myself back up to my feet, and I head after her again.

You’re supremely annoying. I haven’t even eaten today. Did you know that? She steps forward, eliminating the space between us, and opens her mouth, presumably to eat me.

My arm’s not working right, but I swipe anyway.

And though I’m weakened, I manage to cut off her tongue.

Judging by the shrieking sound she makes, it’s not pleasant. She snatches at me with one enormous talon. I can’t evade her, not in my current shape, and she easily lifts me off the ground.

I can’t help smiling at the gobs of bloody drool dripping out of her mouth, but that ticks her off more.

She shakes me like a dog with a snake, and I finally lose my grip on the swords.

They fall, point first, and sink into the earth below.

She hoists me even higher, and then she opens her mangled mouth again.

Unfortunately, her teeth are all intact. Why couldn’t I have taken out a few of those? Before she can snap off my arm like a particularly juicy pretzel stick, Azar crashes onto the side street, slamming into the medical center, shearing one side of the building off, and turns toward us.

Ocharta shudders, and I start to wriggle, sensing this may be my only window. Before I can pull free, a narrow ribbon of flame shoots out of Azar’s mouth and slams into Ocharta’s tail, incinerating it immediately.

Release her.

Ocharta drops me, too busy writhing on the ground to do much else.

Boy, do I know that feeling.

Azar’s walking toward us—stomping—and I realize that he’s angry. His eyes are flashing, his tail’s whipping back and forth, and his nostrils are smoking.

“Wait,” I shout, “please don’t kill her!”

Azar screams in her face, his talons wrapping around her neck and squeezing.

Blood pours from her throat, and at first I’m a little proud of causing her injury, but then I realize it’s coming from where his claws have pierced the shimmery silver scales.

All that gore’s coalescing into a nasty pool on the street below. His head turns toward me, and he roars.

And in that moment, for the first time, like a dunce, I realize something. Something very, very strange.

Something I really should have noticed before.

My one excuse is that all our interactions have been fraught, and they’ve all taken place when I was majorly stressed.

The only reason I notice this time is that I’ve been yanking on my bond to Axel like it was a dinner bell in the hopes he might save me.

That very bond tells me. . .that Axel’s finally by my side.

But he’s not.

Only Azar’s nearby, saving me for a third time.