Page 101 of What a Wolf Demands

And there were no latents among them. On the contrary, they were extraordinarily powerful.

But such wolves were just a rumor . . . a fanciful story parents told their children.

Weren’t they?

He caught Max’s eye as the room buzzed with conversation, and Lizette and Sophie crowded around Lily, who’d stood, her face pale and shocked. Dom shifted his gaze to Damian then back to Max. If the witchborn were real, Max would want to know about it. Was Damian the reason behind Max’s secret trip?

The Alpha followed the direction of Dom’s gaze. When their eyes met again, he gave a single nod.

Dom looked at Remy, who was staring at Damian. “Did you know about this?”

Remy didn’t respond. Didn’t give so much as a twitch to let Dom know he’d heard. Just like earlier . . . when Dom had approached the Lodge with Lily in the car.

A chill crept down his spine. “Remy,” he said, aloud this time.

At once, Remy’s gaze flicked to him.

Dom tapped the side of his head. “Let me know if you hear.”

Remy understood at once, his eyes darting to Lily then back to Dom. “Shoot.”

“Anything? Are you hearing this?”

Remy stared for a second, then asked, “You start yet?”

Holy shit.

A trembling emotion rushed through Dom. Lily’s not latent. She wasn’t a latent. She was a Null, whatever that was.

Things clicked into place, memories flitting through his head. The loup-garou hadn’t scented Lily when they showed up at the hotel in New Orleans. And they hadn’t noticed him and Lily drive into their territory. Dom had driven the SUV practically to their front door, and no one had been the wiser.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t been able to sense them, either.

Because Lily blocked his ability.

They’d run from the plantation, somehow escaping pursuit. At the motel, the Mississippi wolves said they’d had trouble finding Dom and Lily.

Shit, the Bon Rêve wolves had said the same thing.

Max had the best security of any territory, and his Hunters had been oblivious to Dom driving straight to the pack headquarters.

Just a few minutes ago, she’d stood in the foyer with her head held high, totally unaffected by Max’s display of dominance.

Raw joy flooded Dom. If Lily wasn’t a latent, that meant she was a pure-blooded werewolf.

And they could spend the rest of their lives together.

A commotion to his right made him turn. Thibeaux was in animated conversation with Guyon, his face contorted in an angry expression. Guyon had his hands up and was making a “calm down” gesture. Behind them, the other loup-garou looked pale and nervous.

Thibeaux shoved Guyon aside, pushed chairs out of the way, and stomped forward until he stood before Max’s desk.

A hush fell over the room. Sophie and Lizette stood on either side of Lily, their posture alert and slightly defiant. Sophie narrowed her gaze as she watched Thibeaux, clearly waiting for him to try something. Lizette balled one of her hands into a fist.

Together, they made a formidable trio—three females who had weathered adversity and come out stronger. More powerful.

Max folded his arms and regarded Thibeaux with a bored air. “Yes?”

Thibeaux glanced at Damian. “I don’t know who this wolf or witchborn or whatever he calls himself is, but he’s wrong about one thing.”

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