Page 16 of Pack to the Wall

"You look stunning," he said, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver through her. He pulled out her chair with effortless grace, his fingers brushing against her bare shoulder as he helped her sit.

That brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body. From the subtle tightening of his jaw, she suspected he felt it too.

Looking around, she realized they were completely alone in the restaurant. No other tables were occupied. No waitstaff hovered nearby. Just them, the candles, and the endless view of stars twinkling above the ocean.

"Did you clear out the restaurant for me too?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

A hint of color touched his cheekbones. "I thought you might appreciate a little privacy after being constantly in the public eye."

"Thank you." The words felt inadequate for everything he'd done the past two days. "Not just for tonight, but for all of this. The villa, the security, the space." She gestured around them. "I haven't felt this...free...in over a year."

Zev's expression softened, his intense gaze warming. "Everyone deserves freedom, Chrissy. Especially from people who want to cage your spirit."

The simple understanding in those words nearly brought tears to her eyes. Not pity, not judgment—just recognition of her struggle.

"How are you real?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, her natural impulsiveness breaking through her careful reserve.

Zev laughed, the sound rich and deep, reaching places inside her that had been cold for too long. "I assure you, I'm very real. Though perhaps not what you're used to."

"That's for sure." Chrissy's lips curved upward. "Most powerful men I've met usually want something from me."

"And you think I don't?" His question was gentle but direct, his blue eyes studying her with that unnerving intensity that made her feel seen down to her soul.

Chrissy considered him for a moment, her eyes meeting his steadily. There was something about this man that made herwant to lower her defenses, even as her experience screamed caution.

"What I think," she said finally, "is that whatever you want from me, you'll actually ask for it rather than manipulate me or demand that I give it to you."

SIX

ZEV

Zev's wolf clawed at his insides as he watched Chrissy's full lips curve into that genuine smile that had haunted him for two days. The emerald sundress she wore clung to her curves in all the right places, making his mouth go dry every time she shifted in her seat. When the server—one of his most trusted pack members—set down their dinner and retreated with silent efficiency, Zev took a steadying breath.

"You're right," he admitted, meeting her bright green eyes across the flickering candles. "I would never manipulate you. That's not how I operate."

Not with my mate, his wolf added possessively.

The soft island breeze caught a strand of her dark hair, blowing it across her cheek. His fingers itched to brush it back and to feel the softness of her skin. He gripped his water glass instead, the crystal cool against his suddenly overheated palm.

"So what do you want, then?" Chrissy asked, her head tilting to the side with genuine curiosity. The movement exposed the elegant line of her neck, and Zev's wolf growled with approval. "Because powerful men always want something eventually."

"Right now?" Zev leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering to a rumble. "I want to know who you really are, Chrissy Rivera.Not the image they've created for you. The woman who finds joy in simple sundresses rather than designer gowns."

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across her features. "Olivia's been talking, I see."

"She mentioned you had a good day at the spa." He stabbed a piece of seared tuna with his fork, his muscles flexing beneath his black shirt. "She also suggested I not overwhelm you with questions, but my wolf isn't known for its patience."

Shit. He hadn't meant to mention his wolf so openly.

Chrissy's eyebrow arched. "Your... wolf?"

Zev's jaw tightened. Olivia had warned him to go slow, and not to scare Chrissy away with talk of shifters and mates. Yet here he was, five minutes into dinner, already slipping up. He set down his fork with deliberate control.

"Figure of speech," he said smoothly. "An Alpha trait. When I want something, the instinct can be... overwhelming."

The look in her eyes told him she wasn't entirely convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she surprised him by offering a piece of herself.

"You want to know the real me?" She stabbed at her salad, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I learned guitar at eight from my dad. When I play, I feel like I can breathe again. Lately, I haven't been allowed to play other than at my designated shows. Leslie says it ruins my manicure and costs too much to keep fixing my nails."

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