Page 29 of Pack to the Wall

"Why did you stop?" Disappointment colored her voice, her lips swollen from his kiss.

"Because when I take you," he said, his blue eyes locked on hers, "it won't be here, and it won't be quick." He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. "I want to savor every inch of you, Chrissy. And that requires a proper bed and all night long."

Her eyes widened at his promise, her pupils dilating with desire. But something flickered across her face—hesitation mixed with uncertainty—and Zev immediately recognized it. His wolf might be demanding satisfaction, but the man in him knew better.

He stepped back, creating distance between them despite every instinct screaming at him to pull her closer. The white lace of her bra peeked through her thin white tank top, and those denim shorts barely covering her perfect backside were driving him to the edge of his control. He needed air. Space. Clarity.

Zev carefully retrieved his grandfather's guitar, the wood warm from Chrissy's touch, and tucked it away in its rightful place. His fingers lingered on it for a moment, steadying himself.

"Come on," he said, his voice rougher than he intended. "Let's get some fresh air."

The walk toward the beach gave his wolf room to breathe. The salty breeze ruffled Chrissy's dark hair, sending her intoxicating scent directly to him with every gust. He flexed his fingers, fighting the urge to reach for her.

"You're nothing like the other celebrities who've stayed here," he said, watching as her bare feet left delicate impressions in the sand.

Chrissy laughed, the sound pure and unfiltered. "I never wanted the celebrity part, just the music. The songs, the words, the melody—it's all magic to me." Her smile faded. "Or at least it was, before Marty."

Zev's jaw tightened at the mention of her manager. The rogue shifter who dared to cage what was meant to be wild and free.

"I was just this naïve twenty-four-year-old girl excited about sharing my music," she continued, hugging herself as if suddenly cold despite the tropical heat. "I thought everyone was good, you know? Trustworthy. But there are people out there who just want to exploit others for money and status."

Her vulnerability struck him like a physical jab. His protective instincts surged forward, and he fought to keep his eyes from shifting to their wolf gold.

"I feel trapped. Scared." She kicked at the sand, frustration evident in the set of her shoulders.

"You should consider being a music teacher on the side," he offered, deliberately lightening the mood. "The way you drew Emma out of her shell was pure magic. I saw something light up in your eyes when you were teaching her."

Chrissy's smile returned, brightening her entire face. "That's not a bad idea, actually. I'd have to find time for it though." She sighed. "Back home, I don't even have time to sleep or breathe. All I wanted was two days off to see my dad after my album dropped, and Marty refused. Said I needed to do press."

Zev's anger flared, white-hot and dangerous. He imagined ripping Marty's throat out with his teeth for denying her something so basic and so human. The wolf inside him snarled in agreement.

"That's not unreasonable," he managed, keeping his voice level despite the rage bubbling beneath. "Taking time to see your father after what was probably an exhausting album production? Any decent manager would understand that."

He stopped walking, turned to face her fully. The sunlight caught in her hair, highlighting strands of deep chestnut among the dark brown. His mate was exquisite, perfect in every way.

"Stay as long as you need to decompress," he promised. "I'll keep you safe while you're here."

What he didn't say was that he'd keep her safe forever, if she'd let him. That he'd tear apart anyone who tried to hurt her, starting with Marty Shriner.

"Thanks," she whispered, and the genuine gratitude in her eyes caused his chest to constrict.

ELEVEN

CHRISSY

They continued walking along the shoreline, Chrissy's bare feet sinking gently into the warm sand with each step. The swish of waves against the shore created a peaceful backdrop to the storm of emotions raging inside her.

The high from singing with those children still lingered in her veins, reminding her of why she fell in love with music in the first place. It wasn't about album sales or TikTok views or making Marty richer—it was about connection, about that moment when Emma's shy voice had strengthened and gained confidence.

Chrissy stole a glance at Zev beside her, his powerful frame radiating strength even in casual clothes. Her body still tingled from their encounter in the music room, the way he'd lifted her effortlessly and pressed her up against that door. The heat of his mouth on her neck. The way his hands had gripped her waist with such possession yet such restraint.

"What are you thinking about?" Zev asked, catching her staring.

"That you keep starting fires you don't intend to finish," she replied boldly, surprising herself.

His eyes darkened instantly. "Trust me, Chrissy. I fully intend to finish what I started."

The intensity in his voice sent shivers through her body. "Then why pull back every time things get... interesting?"

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