Page 77 of What a Wolf Demands

He frowned.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice coming out higher than she’d intended. She stepped back, shrugging out of his hold. Her duffel was open on the bed, clothes spilling from the top. She grabbed random items, not really seeing what she picked.

He watched her, his hands loose at his sides.

She put her head down, deliberately avoiding his gaze. If she could just get to the bathroom, she could lock herself in and analyze all the crazy emotions trampling through her brain. That seemed to be par for the course when she was around Dom. Assuming she made it out of this mess alive, she’d have to find an apartment with really nice bathroom facilities.

“Lily.” Dom’s voice held a note of warning.

She snagged clean socks and her toiletry bag. “I’ll only be a minute, then you can shower. I’ll stand guard.”

“Lily.” He put a hand on her arm.

She stopped, a pair of skimpy lace panties in her hand. Her heart pounded, and stupid tears burned her eyes. Of course she’d have to break down in front of him while holding the most embarrassing underwear she owned.

Not that she really owned them. Everything in the duffel belonged to him. She didn’t even own a toothbrush.

A sob burst from her throat.

He pulled her into his arms, murmuring something low and soothing under his breath.

And just like that, the dam inside her broke wide open. She buried her face in his chest and cried, great big ugly sobs that hurt her throat and stung her sinuses. She cried for herself—for what might have been if she’d managed to Turn. She cried for her dead parents and how much she missed them. She cried for Dom. She cried for the woman he’d loved. For the vow he’d made and discarded.

Because of her. Because she was losing control.

That just made her cry harder.

“Now, now,” Dom said, his warm hand smoothing over her head. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

It was the most cliché thing, his gentle “now, now”—the kind of thing nannies said to distressed children in old movies. But it was also the sort of thing Dom would say. It was just a little old-fashioned. A little bit formal.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And she was going to lose him.

Fresh tears welled. She gripped his shirt in both fists, anger brewing along with her sorrow. Why did everything in her life have to suck so bad? What had she done to deserve the hand she’d been dealt? To be born into a supernatural species, only to be condemned to live out her life on the fringes.

And now even that was going to be taken from her—if not by a trial then by her own body turning against itself.

Take, take, take. That was the pattern in her life. She was given something for a time, then forced to watch it wither and die.

“Goddammit it!” The curse exploded from her before she could stop it. She pushed away from Dom, fury pounding through her.

He let her go, his gaze watchful and patient.

But the fury in her chest didn’t want patience. It was a wild, unruly thing that surged through her veins, heating her blood and making her tremble.

Energy seemed to crackle in the air.

The tears stopped. Her chest heaved.

Dom’s nostrils flared.

The patience fled from his gaze. Wolf blue rolled over his eyes.

Her sex clenched.

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