Page 18 of What a Wolf Demands

She abandoned her shirt so she could gape at him.

“You ruined my drink.” He shook his glass, making the umbrella waggle. His eyes were glassy, and his hair stuck up from his forehead in sweaty spikes.

“Trust me,” she said, “I did you a favor.” She pushed past him and continued down the bar, dodging people and barstools. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to glance over her shoulder, to see if Prado pursued her. She ignored the urge, her gaze trained on the exit sign.

At the end of the bar, a group of women moved into her path, blocking the way to the exit. They clustered around a small door. Next to it, a shadowed alcove held an old pay phone, its face scratched with graffiti.

“Excuse me.” Sweat trickled down her back. Her heart galloped a frantic rhythm. The exit was steps away.

The women bunched tightly together, their backs to her. A brunette shifted from one foot to the other. A blond scrolled through her phone, her thumb flicking the screen.

Lily cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Can I get through?”

The brunette turned, her gaze taking in Lily’s wet shirt. She raised her eyebrows. “Sorry. This floor only has one bathroom. The line starts here.”

“I don’t need—”

Hard fingers gripped Lily’s arm just above the elbow. She was spun around, the movement so fast the bar whipped by in a blur. Then she was staring up at an enraged Prado. His eyes blazed electric blue. He snarled, showing the tips of his fangs.

Behind her, a woman gasped. “Hey, what kind of contacts are those?”

Prado ignored her, his supernatural stare pinned on Lily’s. When he spoke, his voice was lower than any human register. “You’ve got five seconds to get your ass outside.”

She fought his grip. It was like playing tug of war with a mountain. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

He jerked her close, then spoke between clenched teeth. “Five.”

“Let me go!”

“Four.”

With her free hand, she slapped at his bicep. She could scream, but that would alert every human in the bar—and possibly get her and Prado thrown in jail. Although, what did it matter? If her Alpha had sent Prado after her, she was a dead woman already.

“Three.”

She dug her fingers into his muscle. He grimaced and pulled her closer. Her breasts brushed his chest. Electricity zipped through her nipples. She sucked in a breath, her gasp louder in her ears than the pounding music.

He narrowed his gaze.

Did he feel it, too?

For a second, he seemed to falter. Confusion flashed across his face.

In her mind, the countdown continued. Two . . .

The blond from the bathroom queue appeared at Lily’s shoulder, phone in hand. She turned it horizontal and aimed it at Prado, muttering, “Those fangs are going on Instagram.”

That got his attention. Without loosening his grip on Lily, he glowered at the woman. “Don’t take photos of me.”

Lily could almost hear “human” as a derisive echo on the end of his sentence.

The blond didn’t seem to notice. “It’s a free country,” she said with a shrug. She aimed the phone.

Prado swore. Then he moved so fast, Lily didn’t have time to react. In one motion, he whirled her to the alcove, pressed her into a corner, and lowered his mouth to hers.

She gasped, parting her lips.

He plunged inside.

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