Page 69 of What a Wolf Demands

A blast rocked the basement.

Her arm jerked up, and Luc grabbed his chest and staggered backwards.

Pain stabbed her eardrums, and a high-pitched whine filled her head.

It took her brain a second to process that she’d fired her gun.

Guyon and Bruno turned toward Luc, shock on their faces.

Something grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

Dom’s face filled her vision. His lips moved, the tendons in his neck straining, but no sound emerged.

The whine grew louder, as if a fire alarm had gone off.

Dom turned his head sharply—looking past her—then raised his hand.

Pop.

A tiny flash of orange flared at the mouth of his gun.

Her hearing came back in a rush.

A man bellowed. The sharp scent of smoke filled her lungs. Her own breaths were harsh in her ears.

In what felt like one movement, Dom swung toward her, grabbed her upper arm, and shoved her toward the stairs. “Move, move, move!”

Some primitive part of her brain took over, forcing her legs to work even as her higher reasoning abilities went offline. She flew up the stone steps, Dom on her heels. At the top, his big hand appeared over her shoulder and smacked against the wooden door, swinging it open with enough force to make it slam against the house.

Rain fell in great sheets, and she splashed in a puddle as she leapt over the stone threshold.

“GO!” he bellowed behind her.

She went, sprinting across the lawn and down the dirt path leading to the SUV.

Rain crashed all around her, soaking her hair and thundering in her ears. It dripped down her neck and plastered her hair to her face. On some level, she was conscious of shoving it out of her eyes as she ran.

But it didn’t make a difference. The rain was so heavy, her vision was reduced to a splotchy, watery world of greens and browns.

“Faster, Lily!” Dom yelled behind her.

She pumped her arms. Her feet barely seemed to touch the ground. A sharp stitch stabbed at her side, and her throat burned like someone had scoured it with sandpaper.

Faster. She had to go faster. In her mind, she imagined wolves snapping at their heels and spilling from the trees lining the road. If the loup-garou caught them, it didn’t matter how many bullets Dom fired.

She went faster, splashing through puddles that had formed in the ruts and dips in the road.

The SUV loomed ahead—a dull black square against blurry green trees.

A sob escaped her. If they could just reach it in time, they had a chance.

“Passenger side!” Dom barked in her ear.

She focused on the door. All she had to do was open it, get inside, and hit the lock.

Then she could lose her mind.

A howl sounded somewhere behind her. Immediately, a chorus responded, the sounds a mixture of low growls and aggressive yips.

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