The Forgotten Princess

Chapter 16: A Scene from a Spy Film

Hi,

God, two updates in a week. Amazing!

Hope you enjoy, the rest of the story is more fast paced and I will keep updating regularly.

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Enjoy,

Chloe x

Chapter 16

France was a nice country. I had never been anywhere other than England. The culture. The different language of which I could fully understand and converse with. Marc wasn't so lucky, he had no idea on French but apparently he was fluent in Italian. Something all werewolves were fluent in considering the capitol of our Kingdom was in Italy.

Apparently this was the country of love but while Marc and I were closer, we weren't quite the definition of love closer. The feelings were there and so was that connection but I was nervous and reserved, holding back for the fear of getting hurt. This wasn't to say that I didn't realise the importance of being mates and I knew that in the end I would succumb to it and let myself be embraced with it no matter the consequences. However, the time for that wasn't right now. We had a job to do.

As for training, Marc was relentless pushing me faster and harder than before. He was desperately trying to bring about the best in me to make sure I was prepared for anything and could protect myself. Sometimes though I think it was more for his piece of mind than it was for mind. The closer we got to the territory of the first pack, the more anxious he became. I couldn't help but notice, his hand being pushed through his hair more often was a clear tell but so was that nervous movement of his fingers when he was in thought. It made me nervous for both of us.

The benefit now though was that I was finally faster than Marc. I could run faster and draw a sizeable distance between us. It boosted my confidence ten-fold but it most definitely hurt his pride which inwardly did make me smirk slightly. What? He needed knocking down a peg or two.

"How much further?" I asked, as Marc and I walked through a small town. It was cute and undeniably had that French feel to the place.

Marc and I were walking so close to one another that every time our arms swung as we walked, our hands brushed ever so gently. Each time, that bond between us sparked and I resisted that fundamental urged to take his hand and twine our fingers together. I felt so highly strung as I tried to deny what was between us. We had spoken so often which meant we practically knew everything about each other. Our likes our dislikes. I kind of finally felt like I knew him.

"A day. We are only a day a way. So you know the plan?" He asked, looking at me.

"Yep. We will knock out their power and burn their bank down and don't get caught," I replied.

Marc smirked before actually taking hold of my hand and pulling me towards a small coffee shop. It looked pretty with chairs and tables outside to exploit the sun which was beating down on us. Despite all of this, however, my mind couldn't help but drift to the fact our hands were entwined. It was so natural as if our hands were made to fit perfectly with one another. The true soul mates. That thought made my heart flutter.

Entering the coffee shop, Marc pulled out his wallet and some money.

"You will have to order. You know how terrible my French is," Marc spoke sheepishly.

"I know. It is about the level of French toddler but then again they could probably string more words together than you," I teased, chuckling as I did so.