Page 58 of Pack to the Wall

"You're a guardian angel," Jim said quietly. "Both of you—you and Gerri. You saved my little girl's life."

Zev shook his head, even as his chest swelled with pride. "Gerri started the ball rolling. That woman knew something was wrong the moment she met Marty months ago. She's the one who gathered the initial intelligence, and who helped Chrissy escape. I just did what any mate would do—protect what's mine."

Chrissy was staring at him, her eyes luminous with emotion. "So I'm really free? I can make my music, my way?"

"More than free." Zev cupped her face in his large hand. "You're powerful now. With my resources behind you, you can reshape the industry however you want. Make music that means something. Help other artists avoid the traps you fell into." He pressed his forehead against hers. "And I'll be right beside you, supporting every wild, beautiful idea that comes out of that brilliant head."

"That's one hell of a business proposition, Alpha," she whispered, her lips curling into a teasing smile despite the tears in her eyes.

Zev growled softly, a sound that made Jim clear his throat and suddenly become very interested in his coffee mug.

"It's not business, Luna. It's an investment in our future together. All of us." Zev met Jim's eyes, and Jim gave a knowing nod of approval.

TWENTY-THREE

CHRISSY

Chrissy stared at the stack of damning evidence against Marty—no, Matthew—and found herself unable to reconcile the charismatic snake-oil salesman with the predatory monster laid bare in Zev's file. Her stomach twisted into a nauseating knot that wouldn't dissolve no matter how hard she tried to focus on the positive outcome.

"Jim," Zev said, leaning toward her dad with that casual authority that seemed to make everyone instinctively straighten their posture. "Would you mind if I stole your daughter away for the afternoon? I think we could both use a break from..." His eyes flicked to the file, leaving the thought unfinished.

Chrissy absently tugged at the hem of her faded band t-shirt where it slipped off her shoulder. She glanced up to find her dad's eyes twinkling with something unmistakably knowing.

"By all means," her dad replied with a smile that bordered on conspiratorial. "I'll just head back to that music room and get better acquainted with those gorgeous guitars." He winked at Chrissy. "I might just put a bed in there and sleep with them. Never seen craftsmanship like that."

Despite the emotional rollercoaster of the morning, Chrissy couldn't help but laugh. "You'd marry a Martin if you could, Dad."

"At least it's a stable relationship," her dad quipped back, rising from his chair with newfound energy. His smile softened as he looked between them. "It's good to see you happy, Chrissy-bear. I'm looking forward to having my little girl close by again."

The fullness in her heart threatened to bubble over into tears. Her dad—staying here, with her, on this magical island. No more Marty, no more isolation, no more having her light slowly extinguished by people who saw her as nothing but a commodity.

"Let's go," she said to Zev, desperate to escape the lingering shadows in her mind. "Before I start ugly crying and ruin my reputation as a badass Luna."

Zev's eyes darkened at her use of the wolf title, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in that possessive half-smile that made her insides flutter.

They headed out into the jungle, the early afternoon heat softened by the canopy of leaves overhead. Once they'd gone far enough from the resort paths, Zev turned to her with a predatory gleam.

"Remember when you said you wanted to ride through the jungle on my back?" He was already unbuttoning his shirt, his muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin. "I think that's exactly what you need right now."

"Are you saying I look like I need wolf therapy?" Chrissy teased, but her heart was already racing.

"I'm saying," he growled, stepping close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, "that I know my mate. And I know when she needs to feel the wind in her hair and forget everything but the moment."

God, he did know her, didn't he? Better than anyone had.

Zev stepped back, stripped completely naked, and shifted into his magnificent wolf form. The process still amazed her—bone and muscle rearranging, fur emerging from skin—until the enormous grey wolf with dark brown patches on his belly stood before her, blue eyes unmistakably Zev's despite the changed form.

Chrissy approached him with reverent hands, stroking the thick fur at his neck. "You're showing off now," she murmured, burying her fingers in his coat.

He huffed, lowering himself for her to climb onto his back. A thrill shot through her as she settled between his powerful shoulders, clutching handfuls of fur.

"Don't you dare drop me," she warned, and he made a sound suspiciously like a wolf snort before launching into motion.

The world became a blur of green and gold, the wind whipping her hair free from its messy bun. Exhilaration coursed through her veins as he leaped over fallen logs and wove between trees with impossible grace. Chrissy laughed, wild and unconstrained, each breath filling her with oxygen that seemed purer than anything she'd inhaled in California.

This was freedom. This was life. No stylists, no cameras, no schedules—just her and her mate and the primal joy of movement.

When they finally slowed, Chrissy found herself facing a secluded waterfall cascading into a crystalline pool. The scene looked ripped from a fairy tale—sunlight filtering through the canopy to create dancing patterns on the water's surface.

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