Page 42 of Pack to the Wall

Twenty minutes ago, he'd been pacing his office like a caged animal. Chrissy's decision to leave the island and sacrifice herself for his pack's protection had sent him into a panicked frenzy, strategizing his next move of how to deal with the rogue shifter who dared threaten what was his and to ensure his mate's rightful place here on Isle Luna.

Then it had hit him—a crushing weight on his chest that had doubled him over mid-stride. For a moment, he'd thought he was having a heart attack—his lungs had refused to fill, and his vision had blurred at the edges.

Then understanding had crashed through him. That wasn't his pain. It was Chrissy's. The mate bond, still fresh between them, had opened a channel to her emotions—and what poured through nearly had brought him to his knees. Fear. Heartbreak. Utter desolation.

Zev had straightened, his wolf clawing at his insides. His mate was suffering, and he wasn't by her side. He'd been respecting her request for space, giving her time to process—and in doing so, he'd left her vulnerable.

He'd sprinted across the resort grounds, following the invisible thread that connected them. The closer he'd got to her villa, the stronger the emotional bombardment became, until he had nearly been blinded with her pain. When he'd rounded the final corner and saw what had awaited him, his temper had snapped.

His pack—his family—had formed a hostile barricade around his mate's sanctuary. Some had sat on her steps, others had leaned against the railings or had stood sentinel-like in small clusters. The message couldn't have been clearer if they'd posted signs. You're not welcome.

The primal, territorial part of him—the part that was Alpha—had taken over.

The crowd had froze at his command and dozens of heads had swiveled toward him. He'd stalked forward and the grass had scorched beneath his furious strides.

When he'd told them to move out of his way, most had obeyed instantly, their instincts responding to the Alpha's command. A few—the older, more stubborn ones—had hesitated.

Now, as he waited for Chrissy to open her door, Zev felt the dual forces of rage and tenderness battling within him. How dare they treat his mate this way? He'd chosen her—claimed her—and still they'd formed this mob against her.

"Chrissy," he tried once more, pressing his palm against the wood that separated them. Through the bond, he could feel her hesitation, the frayed edges of her trust. "I can feel what you're feeling now. Let me help you."

The door cracked open, revealing her tear-stained face. Then, she opened it a bit wider. Her blue tank top hugged her curves, and her cut-off denim shorts showed miles of her smooth legs, but it was the devastation in her eyes that caught and held his attention.

"They hate me," she whispered, her voice raw from crying.

The Alpha in him wanted to hunt down every pack member who'd made her feel this way. The man in him just wanted to hold her.

"They don't know you," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "And they don't get to decide who stays on my island."

Zev stepped forward, crossing her threshold with the absolute certainty of a predator claiming his territory. The door closed behind him with a soft click that felt like the period at the end of a declaration.

"You are not getting on Marty's plane," he stated, his eyes locking onto hers.

Chrissy rushed into his arms with such force she nearly knocked him backward. His body instinctively adjusted, bracing against her momentum as his arms enveloped her small frame. She fit perfectly against him, her curves molding to his hardness as if they'd been designed as complementary pieces of the same whole. The scent of her—jasmine and something uniquely her—filled his lungs, calming the rage that had been building since he'd seen his pack gathered outside her door.

"I'm not letting you go back to that life of abuse and feeling alone," he growled, his voice vibrating against the top of her head. His hands splayed possessively across her back, one traveling up to tangle in her dark waves. "You are my mate, and I vowed to protect you and keep you safe. That's what I intend to do."

He felt her exhale against his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt like she might float away if she let go. Thesensation strengthened his resolve—no one would ever make her feel this small again. No one.

"And as for my pack," he continued, his jaw tightening as he remembered their hostile formation, "I am calling a pack meeting right now. I will tell them and set the record straight that you are my fated mate and their Luna."

Chrissy pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity despite their redness from crying. "What's a Luna?"

Zev cupped her face with one large hand, his thumb brushing away the remnants of a tear track on her cheek. His wolf preened at the opportunity to educate his mate about her rightful place.

"The Alpha's mate," he explained, his voice lowering to a deeper register that made her pupils dilate. "To be respected just as much as the Alpha himself. No questions asked and no hesitation."

Her eyebrows pulled together in concern. "Some of them will resist because I'm human, won't they?"

Zev's lips quirked into a predatory smile that showed just the edge of his teeth. "I've already chosen you, already claimed you. There isn't anything they can say or do to change the Alpha's mind."

Her face softened, and she pressed a hand against his chest, directly over his heart. "How did you know I needed you? That I was in complete distress?"

Pride swelled in his chest at her questions—she was beginning to understand what it meant to have a wolf for a mate.

"Our mate bond is growing stronger by the day," he explained, covering her hand with his own. "Because I claimed you yesterday, I can feel your emotions through it. When you were upset, it hit me like a physical blow. I couldn't breathe until I got to you."

She tilted her head, curiosity and skepticism battling in her expression. "You can actually feel what I'm feeling?"

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