Page 34 of Break Out the Girl

François steps closer to Aurora's shoulder, his jaw still discolored from my fist. “I’ll keep her safe,” he says, like he’s reading my mind. “Do not take unnecessary risks, Bevan.”

“I won’t. And if you hear anything—anything at all—you pull out deeper into the woods, agreed?”

London points a finger toward a row of red plastic jerrycans tucked under the bench. “Or you can use the petrol to make our enemies go whoosh.”

“Don’t engage,” I reiterate to François. “Just get to safety.”

The Frenchman nods. I can feel how much he cares. He won’t allow any harm to come to her.

Aurora grabs the fabric of my sleeve at the same time as taking London’s hand. “You two be careful. Watch each other's backs.”

"Always do, Kitten. And his front!"

“I won’t let anything happen to him, Rory.”

She smiles a sad, worried smile. “Come back to me safe.”

I press a kiss to her forehead then move out of the corrugated barn, London at my heels. As we plunge into the dark green mass of trees I invite the shift. My bones let out that wet, heavy click-crack and I drop to all fours, my clothes dissolving into the rush of thick, heavy russet fur as my paws hit the frozen dirt.

We run, London clearing the undergrowth with the massive, silent bounds of his agile faun legs.

Together, as wolf and faun, we melt into the mist, hunting for the girl we came to save.

12: AURORA

Without Tally and London’s body heat blocking the entrance, the freezing island wind whistles straight through the rusted gaps in the corrugated iron.

Plastic raincoats aren’t big on insulation.

As I shiver, François steps close, then wraps his arms around me. I allow it.

Somewhere along this mad journey, I’ve stopped fighting him completely. But I’m not sure I know what that means.

I look up at his face. The discolored purple bruise along his jaw from Tally’s fist is wrong. We need to trust one another, stick together. It’s only as a team that we can bring Sky home.

The idea of having François on a team with me, wanting him by my side, just a week ago would have been ludicrous.

True madness.

He’s a different person to the man he was in Quo.

I still don’t really understand why he was there. He says cryptic things about me, but I don’t think I’ve ever had a straightforward, honest explanation.

And it’s about time I did. It’s the only way I’ll be truly able to have faith in him. “What was the real reason you were in Quo, François?”

“I told you. To protect you.”

But why?

Why would a twenty-year-old Elite, who I’ve barely ever spoken to, have himself incarcerated for my sake? It doesn’t make sense.

The only thing that would, would be if he…had feelings for me. Which I admit, I think he does, but feelings strong enough to go to Quo on my behalf?

No.

“What else?” I ask, my voice firm. “There’s more to it, there has to be.”

François lets out a slow breath, his hand dropping back to his side. “Why? Don’t you believe I’d do anything for you yet? Haven’t I proved it?”