Page 38 of Ensnared (The Dragon Captured #1)

M y first kiss was a disaster.

I liked a guy named Nat. No, not Nate. That’s short for Nathan. The guy I liked was a skater, and his parents were California, through and through. He was way too cool for me. He knew it, I knew it—everyone knew it.

He had long hair.

He did dozens of impressive tricks on his skateboard.

He vaped behind the school sometimes. I knew it was unhealthy and gross, but I was also a little bit in awe of his diffidence to authority and rules.

He was also really, really hot.

I told my best friend that I liked him. She told her best friend. Isn’t it funny how the person who’s closest to us sometimes is closer to someone else?

Funny. Or is it sad?

Potato, tomato.

After Nat found out I liked him, he became absolutely insufferable. He’d walk by and make rude comments. He’d say things like, ‘Hey, you.’

I’d spin around and smile. ‘Me?’

But he’d look past me, and make it clear he was talking to someone else. When my face would fall, he’d look back and laugh.

Nat was cool. He was good-looking.

And he was a jerk.

Gideon was my best friend already, and he hated him.

The third or fourth time Nat pulled a stunt like that, Gideon dragged him across the hall by his collar, shoved him against the wall, and broke his nose.

Nat never looked my way again. No one else laughed at me after that, either.

Everyone in the school was terrified of Gideon. Except for me, of course.

But while he was in detention for breaking Nat’s nose, I joined the chess club.

It was a big mistake. I’ve always been a bit of a blunt instrument, mentally.

Trying to see patterns and work out things that will happen several moves ahead was never my strong suit.

The smartest kid in our school also happened to be the chess club president, and Jacob Wong spent a lot of time that week trying to teach me the basics.

On the day before Gideon was due to return, after school, I lost a chess game in six moves. Six. “I quit,” I said.

“You don’t really seem to be getting better.” Jacob pushed his glasses up his nose. “Maybe it’s not your thing.”

I sighed. “I’m just a dumb jock, I guess.”

“Some of us would love to be jocks,” Jacob said. “I tried to do soccer last year, and after I broke two pairs of glasses, my mom made me quit.”

That made me laugh. “But you’re so smart. I think that’s better.”

“Only because I study all the time.” He started putting the pieces away. He’d stuck around after the normal chess club practice to try and help me every single day this week, but clearly it was a waste of time. I hadn’t improved. If anything, I’d worsened.

“Sorry for wasting your time.” I reached for the same piece as he did, and our hands touched.

My heart sped up, and my breath caught in my throat. “Oh, sorry.”

He bit his lip, shoved the chessboard over, and moved his chair closer to mine. “It’s fine.” His eyes, through the large round lenses of his glasses, were open wider than usual.

I licked my lips, and I watched as his eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Um, would you—I mean.” He cleared his throat.

“Yes,” I said. “You can.”

He blinked several times, and then he scooted even closer. He tilted his head and leaned toward me, but then he decided it was the wrong angle and tilted the other way, his hands kind of floating at his side. “Um, I’ve never.”

“Me either.” I took pity on him then, grabbed his jaw, and pulled it against my face, our lips smashing together.

“What the heck!”

When Jacob and I leapt apart, Gideon was standing in the doorway. His scowl was deep and angry. Jacob jumped up from the chair so fast that he knocked the chessboard over, scattering pieces everywhere. He ran around the room twice before darting out and disappearing down the hall.

Gideon’s hand was clenched at his side. “Really, Chadwick?”

I shrugged. “I wanted to see what it felt like.”

My best friend smashed that chessboard on the floor, and we left it broken in pieces. We never talked about my first kiss again, but Jacob Wong never met my eye again after that.

Even for humans, kissing someone is hard. It’s complicated. It’s confusing.

And it can be a real mess.

So when Axel shifts back into his Big Bad Red form and he’s waiting for me to climb onto his back, the question he asks takes me by surprise. Why do humans kiss?

I freeze.

How am I supposed to answer that?

“Um. Well.”

I know it’s something they do when they’re happy.

I can’t help my laugh. “I’m not sure I’d say happy is how they’re feeling when they kiss.” Though that’s not exactly wrong. “It’s more complicated than that.”

He’s waiting for me, both physically to climb into place, but also I can tell he’s really curious about what a kiss means. His question makes me feel strange about climbing onto his back too, for some reason. Do you kiss Gideon?

Oh, man. He’s asking all the questions today. Heat rises in my cheeks. “I never have, no,” I say.

Good. I don’t want you to.

Oh, heavens. “Why not?” I wish I could clap my hand over my mouth.

When he’s around, I want to incinerate him. Then I want to bury his pile of ash so I never have to see it again.

“He’s just a human,” I say. “You don’t hate all of them.”

Only him.

That makes me laugh.

What’s funny? His eyes are narrowed. It makes me angry that you trusted him with your siblings. I promised to keep them safe. That’s not his job.

Was he always this cute? As I think the words, I wonder when I stopped being afraid of the massive red dragon who was melting the entire world not too long ago.

That helps me think of an analogy. “Stoves are hot,” I say.

“We cook on them. Without them, we couldn’t cook our food, but if a human touches the stovetop with their fingers, it’ll burn. ”

Azar frowns.

“You’re like the stove. You may not intend harm to my siblings, but being who you are puts them in danger.”

But humans are all safe? One eyebrow arches.

“You may not like him, but Gideon’s a pretty scary human. He’d have done anything he could to make sure none of the less-scary humans would hurt them, if they escaped.”

Azar lowers his head until it’s on eye level with me. I don’t like this, but if you want them to leave here, I will fly them all out.

My heart explodes. My big red dragon just offered to free my siblings—even though he hates the idea.

I think it’s a mistake. He snorts. I could keep them safe better than that tiny, feeble human. He spins around again, shifting so his left shoulder’s lower.

I try not to think about the human version of Azar when I scramble over his scaly red back to reach his shoulder. “Is our bond the reason why I wasn’t terrified of flying with you before?”

Probably.

I should’ve known. I’m remarkably obtuse sometimes.

Azar’s powerful muscles shift and bunch, and then he launches into the air, his wings beating regularly as we lift up, up, up and into the sky. He wheels around sharply, and we’re headed back to Clear Lake.

“Won’t people think it’s strange that you’re dropping me off?”

Azar’s wings skip a beat and we dip.

“Maybe you should shift and drop me off a mile away.”

I need to deal with Ocharta first. I’d do it without you, but it seems like you get into too much trouble whenever I leave you alone.

He’s not wrong about that. “What are you going to do?” I bite my lip.

He blows air out of his nostrils. I should just kill her.

I do feel a little bad for making his life harder, but it’s not like our bond has been a walk in the park for me.

I’ll demote her.

“Can you do that?”

I’m guessing not really. His wings beat harder and we gain speed, and then he dives downward, bringing his wings in tightly so we’re rocketing. In that moment, for the first time ever on his back, I relax and fully enjoy what I’m doing.

I’m riding a freaking dragon.

A fire-breathing dragon.

When he drops onto the ground with a bone-jarring thunk that rattles my teeth, I rethink my prior elation.

Sorry. I’m not used to having a rider.

“It’s fine,” I say.

You’re back. Gordon bows. I kept her here, Your Majesty.

Ocharta.

She’s curled up into a dried-and-sticky-blood mess. I almost can’t recognize her in this state, her silvery scales dull and coated in places with black and brown goo. Her tail looks like it’s about half regrown.

It’s nasty. I slide off Azar’s back and retrieve the swords I dropped when I was last here.

Luckily, I’m still wearing the scabbard Gordon made me.

Once I’ve sheathed them, I walk a few steps farther away, standing near Gordon.

It feels like something I should do, to move away from the big scary dragon to stand near my bonded dragon’s worker.

You’re back to kill me? Ocharta struggles to stand. Do it.

“Release my mom,” I say.

Azar glares at me.

I can’t release her, human. No one can release their ensnared. She’ll die with me. She’s smiling. It’s not in my head. I’ve never wanted someone to die and also wanted to keep someone safe as much, at the same time.

Your people will choose a new leader.

It doesn’t work that way. Ocharta’s smile broadens. If you let me live, I’m their leader.

Azar roars in her face.

She looks shockingly unconcerned.

It works however I say it works.

Your pet is weakening you. Ocharta leans closer. He’ll prove your demise if you don’t put him down.

I thought she meant me, but I realize she’s talking about Axel.

Azar’s lip curls, and he begins to glow.

“What’s going on?”

No one answers my question.

The reddish golden haze around Azar glows brighter and brighter, becoming so bright that I’m forced to look away. And then there’s a low humming noise, like an engine that’s stuck in one gear, followed by a shattering sound, like a million glass panes being hit with a baseball bat at the same time.

When I open my eyes slowly, it’s not nearly as bright as it was.

What have you done? Ocharta’s looking around herself—she’s trapped in a large red glass-like bubble. Release me.

“What’s that?” I whisper, hoping maybe Gordon will know.