Page 10 of Forbidden Virgin Mate

As I understand it, there was nearly a full-scale war between the packs not long ago. Diego and Mateo managed to broker peace, an unusual move for alphas after there's already been bloodshed. Good for them, but that means I can’t even get a day away from the whispers and stares.

Still, being here among Zack’s pack is exactly what I wanted, right? Revenge served up close and personal. Here, I can finally put faces to the names in the stories my parents told me. All their bitter stories of betrayal.

I didn't grow up hearing shifter fairytales and folklore; I grew up listening to the story of how Zack's family framed mine and how all my parents’ friends turned their backs on them. And how their alpha had driven them out. My parents had followed Zack's family for years and learned how rich they became after they took over the region’s entire forestry operation. Our family's forestry company was swallowed up by theirs, so all that wealth must have been passed down to Zack and Saffy.

He can't possibly know how I feel,I dismiss.

Part of me wants to turn and run right now. I keep my expression carefully neutral but feel the lingering stares acutely.

The irony is that I almost forgot about it all when we were in the truck: Zack’s family, why I'm here, all of it. As soon as I stepped out of my house and saw him standing there, my wolf grew engaged and restless, something I never felt from her before. If anything, I've spent most of my life suppressing my shifter side to blend into the human world. To feel my wolf rise to the surface so keenly—over Zack, of all people—is unnerving.

In the truck, I'd tried to distract myself with the music, but soon we had both been singing along. It felt so...natural.

I remembered the rush of my wolf's happiness and the warmth of the instant connection I felt with Zack when I first met him at the pavilion. When he’d helped me down from his truck, placing his hand on my hip, I felt a surge of emotion I'd never felt before. Being a twenty-four-year-old virgin isn't something I'm either proud or ashamed of. I've simply never allowed myself to get close enough to anyone in the human world.

My disconcerting reactions toward Zack are problematic, but they won't deter me from my mission.

I plaster my best smile onto my face as I see him turning back from the stand, donuts in hand, and walking toward me. I can't deny he's hot. I know he's in his forties, but his tanned skin and light brown hair make him look younger. He has a five o'clock shadow, a muscular build, and an imposing presence that exudes confidence.

I can't help but notice other women checking him out as he moves through the crowd, but his eyes are trained on mine. I was flirting pretty hard with him in the truck, especially for someone with no experience to back it up. But I just couldn't help myself.

I feel my heart rate speeding up as he smiles at me, holding out the box of donuts. I take a deep breath before taking it from him, and I'm surprised to find my fingers brushing against his when I do. His touch is electric—like nothing I've ever felt before—and it sends an unexpected thrill through me.

My wolf senses something in Zack that she wants to explore further. Something I know could be dangerous if I allow him to get too close. But then again, danger is what drew me here in the first place.

I know exactly how this story is going to end, but I can't help wanting to dive in.

"Let's refuel with these, and then I'll try not to beat you too much in the batting cages." Zack winks as I take a bite from a mouthwateringly good donut.

I laugh. "I'll have you know I was never one for team sports, but I'm very good in the cages."

And it's true. Growing up, my family kept to themselves, so I never participated in teams or sports games. But my strike rate in the cages is exceptional.

We finish our donuts in record time, the warm, sugary treats easing the tension I felt earlier. Excited children run around the fair as the sun begins to set and the stall lights start to glow. We head to the batting cages, which are illuminated under floodlights and sectioned off by thick netting. We're shown to the cage at the end, and I don't waste time picking up a bat, eager to show Zack my skills.

"Well, damn." Zack lets out a low whistle as I step up to take the first swing.

Although my skirt is short, it's perfectly respectable with thick tights. Still, I can't help feeling exposed under his watchful gaze. He's quite a bit older than me, and obviously much more experienced. When I glance at him, leaning casually against the rack and waiting his turn, there's an unmistakable hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver through me.

I swing and hit, but with my thoughts firmly on Zack, the ball flies off to the side. "That was a warm-up," I laugh.

"We will see," he says, and proceeds to hit his ball right into the outer nets.

As he celebrates, I roll my eyes and step up for my second round. Just as I'm readying my bat, I feel his presence behind me.

"You know," he says, "if you turn your back leg out just a bit…"

Suddenly, I feel his hand resting on my hip and guiding my leg back. I gasp as that spark shoots through my body again. Instinctively, I lean into his touch, and I hear a low groan as my back hits his hard chest. His hand tightens on my hip possessively, and I'm almost scared to turn my head to look at him. Heat has pooled between my legs. I've never felt anything like this before.

"Tan—" Zack starts, but is interrupted by a loud cheer from the cage next door. The spell broken, I jump forward, gripping my bat.

I laugh nervously. "You trying to throw me off my game?"

Without waiting for a response, I take my shot. This time, I even surprise myself with the power behind it. The ball volleys to the end net with a satisfying thud, and I'm rewarded with cheers from Zack and the other cages.

"Okay, okay," he chuckles, high-fiving me. "You don't need any help from me."

The rest of the evening proves to be just as much fun. We ride on the Ferris wheel, where we admire the changing colors of dusk, and wander around the stalls, trying our luck at winning some prizes. As the evening moves into night, I'm conscious of Zack's arm brushing mine as we walk, and my heart skips every time his fingers brush against mine when he hands me a plate of fried treats.

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