Page 9 of Pack to the Wall

"Gerri and the others must have taken a detour," Zev said, reluctantly dropping his hands. "I can show you to your villa."

He led her along a winding stone path fringed with orchids and lush ferns. "This is the Orchid Villa," he explained as they approached a secluded structure nestled among palms. "Complete privacy, unobstructed views of the Caribbean Sea, and your own private pool and beach access."

As he reached to unlock the door, their hands brushed accidentally. A jolt of electricity shot up Chrissy's arm, stopping her heart for a beat before it raced forward at double speed. Zev jerked his hand back as if burned, his jaw tightening visibly, and his muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin.

They both stepped backward, creating distance as if by mutual instinct. Chrissy pressed her tingling hand against her thigh, trying to steady her suddenly shallow breathing.

The look in Zev's eyes was unlike anything she'd ever seen in a man's eyes—shock, desire, and something deeper and more primitive that made her knees weak. Something fundamental had shifted between them, charging the tropical air with potential that terrified and thrilled her simultaneously.

"I should—" Zev's normally confident voice sounded strained. He cleared his throat, his posture stiffening as he collected himself. "Room service is available at any hour of the day or night, and the staff is at your disposal for anything else you need."

Before she could reply, he turned and walked away, his powerful shoulders rigid beneath his linen shirt, leaving Chrissy staring after him with her heart racing.

FOUR

ZEV

Zev rushed away from the Orchid Villa with the controlled precision of a man who was one heartbeat away from losing control. Each step felt like fighting against a magnetic pull drawing him back toward Chrissy. His body moved forward while everything inside him screamed to return to her.

Once safely hidden behind a cluster of palm trees, he braced one arm against the rough trunk and drew a ragged breath. His heart pounded inside his chest like a wild animal trying to escape its cage.

"Shit," he growled under his breath. "She's definitely my mate."

The truth of it resonated through every cell in his body. His wolf was now fully awake and practically howling for him to go back to her immediately. The intensity of it was staggering. One definitive touch of her hand against his a moment ago had nearly brought the Alpha of Isle Luna straight to his knees.

Her scent still clung to him—jasmine and honeysuckle with an undercurrent of something uniquely hers that made his mouth water and his muscles tighten with primal need. Heloosened another button on his linen shirt, suddenly feeling as though he couldn't breathe.

"What the hell were you thinking, Gerri?" he muttered, though deep down he already knew.

The matchmaker had outmaneuvered him completely. When Gerri called last night with that cryptic message about finding his mate, he'd assumed she meant he'd meet his mate in the distant future on his terms, not that she'd be delivering her to his island within twelve hours. If Gerri had been more direct about her plans, he likely would have found a reason to delay, to question, and to doubt.

Smart woman. She knew him all too well.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. As if summoned by his thoughts, Gerri's name flashed on the screen.

"You could have warned me," he growled instead of hello.

Gerri's laugh tinkled through the speaker. "And have you find some noble reason to refuse meeting her? I believe in the direct approach when dealing with stubborn Alphas."

"She's human, Gerri." His voice dropped lower, more primal. "And not just any human. She's Chrissy Rivera."

"And she's your mate." Gerri's tone left no room for debate. "You felt it the moment you saw her."

Zev closed his eyes, remembering the exact second Chrissy had stepped off the helicopter. The world had narrowed to a single point centered on her face. The sun had caught perfectly in her dark brown hair, making it shine almost blue-black against the pristine white of her sundress. The delicate curve of her neck and the full swell of her breasts above that sweetly modest neckline—his wolf had nearly forced a shift right there on the helipad.

"Mine," he admitted, the word coming out as a growl that made no attempt to hide his nature.

"Then why are you hiding behind palm trees instead of getting to know her?" Gerri challenged.

Zev straightened, scanning the area with narrowed eyes. "How did you?—"

"Call it intuition," she interrupted. "Or perhaps I'm just familiar with the pattern of an alpha wolf running from what he fears most."

"I don't fear her," he snapped, then immediately recognized the lie. He feared himself around her—feared the intensity of what he felt and the rawness of his need.

"She needs protection, Zev. She's running from people who see her as property, not a person. Sound familiar to what your pack escaped generations ago?"

Zev's jaw tightened. His ancestors had founded Isle Luna as a sanctuary from those who would use wolf shifters as weapons or trophies.

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