Page 41 of Pack to the Wall

Chrissy brushed away a fresh tear. If Zev truly wanted her, truly believed she was his mate, where was he? Why wasn't he here, fighting for her?

She pulled her knees to her chest in the armchair, her nails digging into the soft flesh of her calves as another sob threatened to break free.

"Perfect," she whispered bitterly. "Always have to be so damn perfect."

Her entire life had been a constant chase after perfection—the perfect daughter for her dad who'd sacrificed everythingincluding his own music career, the perfect student with straight A's through college, and now the perfect pop star with the perfect image that wasn't even hers to control. And where had it gotten her? Right back where she'd started five days ago—trapped, controlled, and utterly alone.

She dug into her pocket, finding her phone. The screen lit up with notifications—thousands of them. Comments on a video she never meant to share.

"I tried so hard," she choked out, scrolling through the tsunami of messages from fans praising her 'authenticity' in a moment that had been stolen from her. "God, I did everything right, and it's still not enough."

For a few magical days, she'd tasted the life she truly wanted.

Zev had looked at her—really looked at her—and seen past the glossy exterior that Marty had cultivated. He'd touched her with reverence instead of ownership. He'd made her feel worthy just for being herself.

"What a joke," she laughed through her tears, tossing the phone onto the bed. "Fated mates. If he can't even feel how broken I am right now, what's the point?"

Her chest constricted with each ragged breath. All the beautiful moments—their first rain-soaked kiss in the cave, the way his eyes had followed her movements when she'd sung to those children, the tender way he'd washed her body in the shower—were fading like watercolors in the rain.

"Back to square one," she whispered, catching her reflection in the mirror. Even without the layers of professional makeup, she was still beautiful—full lips, bright green eyes, and curves that had made Zev's eyes darken with hunger. But beauty hadn't protected her from Marty's control, and it wouldn't save her now.

Just beyond her villa, she could hear the pack's voices rising, arguing among themselves. The words "human" and "risk" floated through the walls like poison.

"I'm never going to live the life I want," she said to her reflection. "Never going to be with who I want. Just back to being Marty's puppet and everyone's performing monkey."

The sob that had been building finally broke free, a raw, animalistic sound that tore through her. She doubled over onto the floor, her hair falling across her face as her shoulders shook. All the pain of the last year seemed to converge with the fresh wound of rejection, leaving her gasping.

Suddenly, a deep, commanding voice cut through the ambient noise outside.

"ENOUGH!"

The single word reverberated with such authority that the villa's windows seemed to vibrate. The voices outside fell silent.

"Move. Now."

Chrissy lifted her head, wiping her swollen eyes. That was Zev—but not the gentle, teasing Zev who'd held her through the night. This was pure Alpha, the voice of a predator who'd found his mate threatened.

"Alpha, we're just ensuring—" a woman's voice began.

"I said MOVE."

Chrissy's breath caught. She stood up, drawn to the window by an invisible thread. Through the gauzy curtain, she saw Zev cutting through the crowd like a blade, his body radiating power and fury. His eyes—those mesmerizing blue eyes that had looked at her with such tenderness—now glowed with supernatural intensity.

The pack parted before him, some lowering their gazes submissively. Others looked defiant but stepped back nonetheless.

Chrissy's heart hammered as Zev reached her door. He didn't knock. He didn't need to.

"Chrissy," he called, his voice gentler but still thrumming with that undeniable authority. "Let me in. Please."

The 'please' nearly broke her again. Five days of bliss, shattered in an instant—yet here he was, fighting for her.

SIXTEEN

ZEV

Zev stood outside Chrissy's villa door, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. The crowd of his pack members had dispersed, slinking away under his furious glare, but their betrayal still burned in his gut like acid.

"Chrissy," he called again, softening his tone despite the rage still coursing through his veins. "Please, let me in."

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