Page 55 of What a Wolf Demands

He gripped the wheel. She’d promised to follow his orders. Maybe he should draw on the wolf and give her an actual command.

Oh, he could just imagine what Remy would say to that suggestion.

The sensor belted out another series of dings.

Irritation tugged at him. She really should put on her belt. Who knew what they’d encounter when they got to Bon Rêve? The good old boys in the bayou kept shotguns in their trucks. They wouldn’t hesitate to fire at a suspicious-looking vehicle—or one carrying a runaway latent. A high-speed chase wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

He clenched his jaw.

She looked out the window.

They could get run off the road. Crash into the bayou. That water was full of alligators and who knew what else.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

A crash was unlikely to kill him. His body would heal just about any injury. But Lily was latent. Vulnerable.

Ding. Ding—

He brought his hand down on the steering wheel. “Dammit, will you put on your seat belt!”

She’d jumped when he struck the wheel. Now, she stared at him with wide eyes.

He moderated his tone. “I would like it if you buckled up. Please.”

She stared at him for a second. Then, her movements slow and deliberate, she drew the belt across her body and latched it.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. What else could he say? If this morning hadn’t convinced her he was a jerk, she certainly knew it now.

It was better that way.

They drove in silence for the next twenty minutes, and this time he welcomed the quiet. There was no need to fill it with small talk. Nothing to gain by asking all the little questions people did when they wanted to get to know each other better.

But he couldn’t stay silent forever. As they neared Bon Rêve, a prickling awareness drifted over his skin.

Wolves.

Some among his kind could sense it when others were close. The very skilled could tease out unique energy signatures given off by individual wolves, and some could even pinpoint the number of werewolves inside a building or a stand of trees.

His senses weren’t quite that sharp. And some wolves, like Max, could muffle their energy, making them almost impossible to detect.

The wolves he sensed didn’t have that ability. Or if they did, they weren’t trying to hide.

He glanced at Lily. She stared straight ahead, her hands balled into fists on her thighs. Her posture was tense and watchful.

“We’ll be there shortly,” he said.

“I know.”

“Do you feel them?”

“Wh-What?” She looked at him, her gaze distracted.

“Nothing.”

Fear entered her voice. “Are we being followed?”

---