Page 41 of What a Wolf Demands

Lily stopped, the word “cunt” making her clench her fists. Her skin crawled. If Luc ever got his hands on her . . . Nausea rose sharp and hot in her throat.

Dom spoke, his voice as low as she’d ever heard it. “I follow protocol, wolf. And protocol dictates that I deal directly with your Alpha.”

A low growl vibrated across the room, then Luc said, “And I told you to hand that cunt over—”

His words ended in a choked gasp. There was a scuffling sound, followed by a man’s low grunt.

Lily’s pulse spiked. Were they hurting Dom? Anxiety churned in her stomach.

Dom spoke again, his voice well below the human register. “I suggest you return home and forget about Ms. Agincourt.”

More scuffling, then a dull thud that was immediately followed by another thud.

Flesh hitting flesh?

“Fuck you,” Luc said, his voice hoarse.

Lily looked at the dresser. If she got the gun . . .

A man’s sharp cry rent the air, jerking her attention back to the door.

Abandoning caution, she closed the distance to the gap and peeked into the living room.

Her jaw dropped.

Dom had Luc pinned against the door, one thick arm across his throat. The door pressed hard against the hotel room’s wall, which probably explained the thuds she’d heard. Luc stood on his tiptoes, his feet just skimming the floor. His face was a dull red and growing darker by the second.

Three males stood in the hall just outside the open door, their faces pale. Guyon she recognized, but the other two were strangers. Based on their muscled builds and broad shoulders, however, they were probably Hunters.

Luc made a gurgling sound, then spoke between clenched teeth. “You better hope you find her first, Telepath.”

Dom’s shoulders jumped as he slammed his arm harder across Luc’s throat. “Is that a threat?” he asked, his voice silky.

“Beta,” one of the Hunters said, “I think you cut off his air.”

Guyon put a hand on the man’s arm, then gave a subtle shake of his head, as if warning him to silence.

Luc’s eyes bulged. His face was purple now, with mottled white spots on his cheeks and forehead.

Abruptly, Dom released him and stepped back. Luc fell to his hands and knees, gasping. A line of drool stretched from his lower lip to the carpet.

Dom watched him for a second, then looked at the other men. As a group, they took a step back.

What the . . . ? Lily glanced between the men and Dom. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face.

With Luc sputtering and coughing on the ground, Dom addressed the men. “Let me be clear. Your Alpha requested my assistance. According to our laws, that means I’m in charge of this hunt. Comprenez vous?”

Shock held Lily immobile. He’d spoken in perfect French, asking if the men understood. His phrasing was a little formal, but his accent was as good as any native speaker’s. Although, maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. The New York Territory was a stone’s throw from Quebec, and the Alpha was a Frenchman. It made sense that Dom would know the language.

The men nodded. Guyon met Dom’s gaze, then glanced away. “Oui, Beta.”

“Bon.” Good. Dom folded his arms. “Now collect your trash and get out.”

Without warning, Luc surged up from the ground. In the same instant, Guyon leapt forward. As if they’d coordinated it, he and one of the Hunters seized Luc’s arms and hauled him back.

Lily clapped a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t cry out.

Dom hadn’t moved. He stood as still as before, his posture seemingly relaxed.

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