Page 72 of What a Wolf Demands

Still, he wouldn’t rest easy until they’d crossed into the Mississippi Territory. And he couldn’t do that until Remy negotiated their safe passage.

Gaze on Lily, he shoved a hand through his hair. “Did you make contact with the Mississippi wolves?”

Remy’s deep breath was audible over the line. “Right now, I’d rather talk about what you’re going to say to her.”

In his mind’s eye, Dom’s wolf bared its teeth.

Interesting. The beast didn’t like Remy asking about Lily.

Funny. Dom didn’t much like it, either.

“I said I’m fine,” he told Remy.

“Yeah, but she probably isn’t.”

The weariness tugged harder. He had an idea where Remy was taking this conversation, and he just didn’t have the fucking energy for it. The wolf’s irritation flared higher, which made his tone clipped. “Do you remember who you’re talking to, Remy?”

“Absolutely, I do. It’s the reason I’m concerned.” His chair squeaked again, as if he’d leaned forward. He lowered his voice. “Not everyone handles these things the way you do, Dom.”

“No shit.”

Another deep breath.

Great. Remy was gearing up for one of his “Dom, be reasonable” lectures.

“Dom,” he said, “be reasonable—”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Dom muttered.

Remy plowed ahead as if he hadn’t heard. “I’m trying to help.”

“You can help by getting us the hell out of Louisiana.”

“You can’t expect her to just bottle this up.”

“I don’t.”

“She needs—”

“Goddammit, Remy!” Dom slammed a flat palm against the glass, making the whole booth rattle. In the SUV, Lily looked up, a frown on her face. Her gaze found his.

She was wan and drawn, and for the first time since he’d met her, she seemed almost plain—as if all the bold colors that made up her person had been leached away.

He’d do anything to put those colors back. The knowledge hit him like a sucker punch, stealing his air and leaving him speechless.

Speechless.

Breathless.

Helpless.

Helpless. That’s what she made him. She’d done it from the start, when she’d stood behind her bar, her red hair like fire around her head, a challenge in her eyes. And when she’d balled up her fist and punched him in the face. When she’d swept from the bedroom in her white robe, carrying herself like a queen despite her oversized attire. When she’d listened with interest to the stories about his family, never once judging him for his undesirable Gift. When she’d moaned her soft cries in his ear as she came again and again in his arms.

When she’d insisted on going back to Bon Rêve—the place she most feared—to save her friend.

When she’d disobeyed his orders because she refused to leave the people she cared about behind.

His gut clenched. She’d been terrified in that basement. Terrified and brave and beautiful.

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