Page 42 of Bronx

Bronx settled down on the edge of the foldout bed, picking up a worn copy ofThe Jungle Bookfrom the bedside table. As Cora tucked Samuel in, pulling the covers up to his chin, Bronx began to read aloud.

“Once upon a time, in a faraway jungle, there lived a young boy named Mowgli…”

Samuel’s eyes fluttered closed, the boy lulled to sleep by the soothing cadence of Bronx’s voice. Cora brushed a stray strand of hair from her son’s face, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

“Good night, Samuel,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Sweet dreams.”

As they tiptoed out of the living room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind them, Bronx wondered about the boy’s father.

He knew there was a story there, one he had yet to hear, one that had left deep scars on Cora’s heart. But was it his place to ask? Was it his right to know?

“His father,” Bronx began hesitantly. “Who is he?”

Cora visibly flinched at the question, her eyes filling with tears. She looked away, biting her lip. Bronx reached for her hand, offering what little comfort he could through the simple gesture.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bronx said.

“No. I need to,” Cora said. “Samuel’s father… He was my former alpha.” She choked out the words, her voice shaking with pain. “He… He hurt me. And Samuel was the result of his abuse.”

“Abuse—” The word hit Bronx like a physical blow, igniting a fierce protectiveness within him. “Which one? Deacon or Ellerson? Or someone else?”

“Deacon,” she whispered.

Bronx clenched his jaw, wishing he could kill the former alpha of the Idahos all over again. “You’re safe from him now.”

Cora nodded, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “Yes, he’s dead. But the memories… They still haunt me.”

“Know this,” Bronx said, his gaze intense and unwavering, his tone underscored with his inner beast’s possessive growl. “I will always protect you and Samuel.Always. I will not let anyone hurt either of you again.”

Taking Cora into his arms, Bronx led her back to the bed, each step echoing his tenderness and understanding.

As they settled beneath the blankets, he held her close, feeling her fragile form tremble ever so slightly. His voice was low. “Listen to me. I want to give you enough joy to wipe out any misery you’ve ever felt. You deserve happiness, and I swear on my life, I will do everything in my power to make sure you have it.”

She looked up at him, those beautiful brown eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill over. She whispered, “I can’t believe I found someone like you.”

For a moment, they simply held each other.

The next morning, a call woke Bronx.

“Hey,” Steele said from the other end of the line. “I need you to come down to the conference room as soon as you can, okay? Bring Cora—it’s about the mating ceremony.”

“Sure,” Bronx said. “We’ll see you soon.”

He woke Cora, and while she dressed, he called his mother to come sit with Samuel.

“Is everything okay?” Amelia asked.

“I think so. Steele just wants to talk about the mating ceremony, I think,” he said, trying to avoid frightening her.

“Mating ceremony?” Amelia asked. “You and Cora?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“And when, exactly, were you going to tell me about this?” His mother’s voice was dry.

“Well…now?” Bronx laughed sheepishly. “We’ve all decided to have a joint ceremony at the next full moon.”

Amelia sighed. “Well. I guess I’d better call my sisters. We have some planning of our own to do.”

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