Page 5 of Pack to the Wall

"I'm well aware of her reputation," Zev said stiffly, his wolf stirring restlessly. "And I'm happy for you both, obviously. But I'm focused on running this resort and protecting our pack. I don't have time for matchmaking mumbo jumbo."

Ewan's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Because when she visited a few months ago, you two had a pretty intense private meeting. She looked like the cat who ate the canary afterward."

Heat crawled up Zev's neck. Damn Ewan and his observations. "That was about expanding our charitable initiatives."

"Of course it was." Olivia's smile widened. "Which is why you've been prowling around like a caged animal since her call last night."

Zev fell silent, his mind racing back to that midnight conversation. Gerri's voice had held that unmistakable note of mischief when she'd said she had "life-changing news" that required her immediate presence on Isle Luna.

Why hadn't he made the connection until now? His wolf had been unusually alert all morning, sensing something momentous approaching. It wasn't just Gerri's visit that had him on edge—it was what she represented for his future.

"She promised you something, didn't she?" Olivia's voice softened, her intuition as sharp as ever. "What was it, Zev?"

The words stuck in his throat. Admitting it made it real. "She says she's located my mate."

The silence that followed felt electric. Ewan's expression shifted from surprise to understanding.

"Well, shit." Ewan clapped him on the shoulder. "No wonder you're wound tighter than a spring."

Olivia's delighted laughter danced on the sea breeze. "The mighty Alpha of Isle Luna, finally caught in Gerri's web like the rest of us mortals. Oh, this is delicious."

"Nothing is going to happen," Zev growled, though his racing heart betrayed him. "I have responsibilities. A pack to lead. A business to run."

Olivia smirked. "Oh, that's right. You've spent years perfecting the art of emotional unavailability."

His wolf bristled at the accusation, even as the man recognized its truth. "I'm not emotionally unavailable. I'm selective."

"Is that what we're calling it?" Ewan's grin was infuriating. "Your last date was what—a year ago? And didn't she leave after you took three business calls during dinner?"

"This conversation is over." Zev turned his attention to the horizon, where the distant thrum of helicopter blades had just become audible. "Gerri will be here any minute, and I need you both focused."

But while his words dismissed their teasing, Zev couldn't dismiss the sudden churning in his gut. His instincts prickled with awareness, his wolf pacing anxiously under his skin. Gerri had found his mate—his perfect match. The one woman in the universe designed specifically for him.

Gerri told him last night on the phone that she was coming here today to discuss the specifics with him. He didn't know what those details entailed, but probably something about when he'd be willing to meet his mate in the future.

As the sound of the helicopter's engines grew closer, something deep within Zev told him his world was about to tilt on its axis in ways he couldn't begin to imagine. The man in him wasn't too sure if he was ready for it.

Zev straightened his white linen shirt, watching with keen eyes as the sleek black helicopter made its approach. His wolf senses picked up details no human could—the pitch of the engines, the subtle shifts in wind direction, and the precise angle of descent.

"Showtime," Ewan muttered beside him, his navy resort polo rippling in the downdraft as the helicopter touched down with featherlight precision.

Zev maintained his commanding posture, his jaw set and his shoulders squared as the rotors slowed. This was his territory. His domain. He'd welcome Gerri with the respect she deserved, hear her out about this supposed mate she'd found, then gentlyexplain why his pack responsibilities took precedence over romance.

The door slid open, and Gerri Wilder emerged into the brilliant Caribbean sunshine. At four-foot-eleven, she nonetheless commanded attention in her designer lavender pantsuit, her white bob perfectly styled despite the helicopter journey. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she breathed in the tropical air.

"Zev, dear," she called over the dying engine noise. "Paradise suits you as always."

He nodded politely, preparing the practiced welcome speech he'd rehearsed that morning. Then the air shifted unexpectedly.

A second figure appeared in the helicopter doorway, and Zev's entire world stopped spinning.

She stepped onto the helipad with cautious grace—a vision in white, her sundress flowing around curves that made his mouth go dry. The sunlight caught in her long dark brown hair, creating a halo effect that made her appear almost ethereal. The dress hugged her body with tantalizing perfection, revealing just enough cleavage to make his wolf howl silently. Her face was a study in beauty and vulnerability, her eyes wide as she took in the panoramic view of his island.

His island. His territory.

His mate.

The recognition slammed into him with physical force. His wolf, normally a constant presence beneath his skin, suddenly went utterly still. The roaring in his ears drowned out everything but the sight of her. Every sense locked onto her—her jasmine scent cutting through the salt air like a beacon, the sound of her quickened heartbeat, and the way her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed her hair from her face.

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