Page 38 of Pack to the Wall

They made their way back to the resort, hands entwined, shoulders brushing with each step. The connection between them hummed like a live wire, making his skin prickle with awareness. His wolf prowled just beneath the surface, already possessive of every curve, every smile, and every breath she took.

When they reached her villa, Chrissy turned to him with that mixture of shyness and boldness that drove him wild. "I supposeI should take a short nap before dinner to regain my strength for later." Her eyes flashed with a hint of mischief.

"Of course." Zev's blood began to heat with anticipation. "I'll make reservations for eight."

"Perfect." She rose on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Don't be late, Alpha."

The playful challenge in her tone made him growl low in his throat. "I've never been late for anything important in my life."

Zev watched her disappear inside, the curve of her hips in those cut-off shorts nearly breaking his resolve to let her rest. With considerable effort, he turned away, heading toward his office to handle some resort business before their dinner.

He'd barely made it halfway across the grounds when Ewan came barreling toward him, his face locked in a grim expression Zev hadn't seen since their military days.

"We've got a problem." Ewan's voice was clipped and urgent. "A serious one."

Zev's spine stiffened automatically, his alpha instincts surging to the forefront. "Tell me."

"It's about Chrissy." Ewan pulled out his tablet, swiping to a video. "This just hit social media about twenty minutes ago. It's blowing up everywhere."

Zev stared at the screen. There was Chrissy, standing amid the ancient ruins they'd just left, singing the song she'd created—for him, for them. The private, intimate moment where she'd bared her soul through music was now splashed across the internet for millions to witness.

"What the fuck?" His voice plummeted to a dangerous register. "How?"

"The song recording app on her phone. Marty's team has backend access to it—probably written into her contract. The moment she saved the recording, it uploaded to their cloud." Ewan's expression darkened. "They released it immediately,complete with tagging it as 'Chrissy's jungle escape song.' It's already trending."

A primal fury swept through Zev, his wolf clawing for release. That song was theirs—a gift she'd created in the sacred place of his ancestors. Now it was being paraded for profit by the very man who'd driven her to seek sanctuary.

"The comments are overwhelmingly positive," Ewan continued. "People are calling it her most authentic work. But that's not the real problem."

Zev's jaw clenched. "What else?"

"The recording app Chrissy used—it captures location metadata." Ewan's expression darkened further. "Marty knows she's here. He called the resort's direct line demanding to speak with you."

A low growl rumbled deep within Zev's chest, his wolf snarling beneath his skin. No one made demands of an Alpha, especially not some rogue shifter who had abused his mate.

"Good," Zev said, pulling Marty's business card from his wallet. "I've been looking forward to this conversation."

He dialed the number, putting it on speaker as Ewan stood sentinel beside him. The call connected immediately.

"Shriner." The voice was smooth and cultured, with the unmistakable edge of a predator.

"This is Zev Landon. I understand you've been looking for me."

"Ah, the island owner himself." Marty's tone dripped with false cordiality. "You have something that belongs to me."

Zev's fingers tightened around the phone, his knuckles whitening. "Chrissy Rivera belongs to no one."

"Legally, you're incorrect." Papers rustled on Marty's end. "She's contractually obligated to Empire Records—and by extension, to me. You're harboring a runaway asset, Landon."

"Asset?" The word tasted like poison. "She's a human being who's been exploited and abused."

Marty's laugh was sharp and cold. "Please spare me the hero complex. I made her famous. I made her rich. I made her everything she is."

"You broke her spirit and put your hands on her." Zev's voice dropped dangerously low. "For that alone, I should hunt you down."

"Threats now? How primitive." Marty's voice hardened. "Here's a counter-offer: return my star within twenty-four hours, or I'll release the exact coordinates of your precious little island to every tabloid and social media influencer on the planet."

The threat hit its mark. Zev's eyes flashed with lupine fury as he imagined his ancestral land swarmed with humans, cameras clicking and drones buzzing overhead—the sanctuary his family had protected for generations exposed and violated.

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