Page 36 of Break Out the Girl

Life.

But then he swings around, massive jaws opening.

Not even a blink of an eye later he shoots across the room, launching himself up through the air to the entrance.

There was a man. With a gun.

François is wrapped around him, squeezing, crushing. The rifle clatters to the floor, almost bent double by the strength of his coils. I hear the crack of bones, but the man has no air in his lungs to scream.

The snake—François—stills, then unwinds himself, leaving the limp, broken body to drop onto the dirt.

Holy fuck.

The massive, triangular head swivels slowly away from the dead guard and towards me. The hairs on my arms stand up as the thick coils of his body slide over the dirt toward me.

The hard, cold stone against my back keeps me trapped in the corner.

Why am I panicking? This is just François. He wouldn’t hurt me.

But something about this innate creature feels so far from London’s faun and Tally’s wolf.

The snake doesn’t look at me with the eyes of a man I know. It looks at me with eyes of a predator—completely devoid of any human warmth.

Wump-ppp.

Thoughts race. He’s going to kill me. I was wrong. Idiot for trusting. Kissing. Fuck.

NO!

Taking a breath, I hold out a hand. Get a fucking grip, Aurora.

The massive body lowers, his forked tongue darting out, the wet tip brushing my palm.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I tell him. I’m sure he already knows that.

Wump-ppp.

Slowly, his smooth body slides alongside me.

Is it my imagination or is he shrinking?

Definitely shrinking.

Now François is ‘only’ six feet long and the girth of my thigh. A low, vibration-heavy rumble passing through his scales as he slithers onto my lap.

Huh. I guess snakes can purr.

So, as if he were a cat, I pet him. Leaning back on the wall, trying to ignore the crushed flesh-sack of bones at the entrance, I run my hand along his smooth scales.

Is François going to eat the man he killed?

And if so, why am I not freaked out by that?

Shit. Aurora Drakeward is certainly not who she used to be.

But there again, none of us are.

Especially François. He definitely gets the award for most improved team-mate.