Page 55 of Bronx

Cora nodded, her eyes softening with affection as she gazed at her mate. They set off together, their tails wagging in unison as they made their way back through the familiar territory.

As they approached the Moonstone Lodge, a small knot of anxiety formed in Bronx’s chest. He knew that their lives would never be the same, and there were still obstacles they would have to face together. But with Cora by his side, he was certain they could conquer anything.

They trotted toward the Moonstone Lodge, side by side, their paws making soft thuds on the damp forest floor. As they entered the grand hall of the lodge, its massive stone fireplace crackling, they barely noticed the curious eyes that followed them. Bronx’s ears flicked back briefly, acknowledging the desk clerk who waved at them cheerfully. He could sense Cora’s anxiety beside him, her wolf form quivering slightly.

They padded silently toward Bronx’s suite, their tails swishing in unison. Stopping just outside the door, they shifted back into their human forms, fully embracing the vulnerability of their naked bodies. The cool air kissed their skin, raising goose bumps as they stood there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Ready?” Bronx asked gently, his eyes searching hers for any sign of fear or hesitation.

“Ready,” Cora confirmed, her small hand reaching out to grasp his, intertwining their fingers.

With a soft click, the door swung open, revealing the luxurious suite within. Closing the door behind them, Bronx gathered Cora in his strong arms, his every muscle thrumming with the desire to protect her. Their lips met passionately, the heat between them igniting like wildfire.

“Bronx,” Cora gasped, pulling back to catch her breath, her chest heaving. “I’ve never felt this way before. You make me feel so…alive.”

“Me too,” Bronx admitted, his heart pounding as he looked down at her. He could feel the shift in his wolf, the bond between them—a mate bond, he now knew for certain—growing stronger and more intense with each passing moment. He sealed their connection with another searing kiss. And as they stood there, naked and exposed, they drew strength from each other.

The warmth of the room enveloped them, a stark contrast to the chill of the forest outside. Bronx could feel the heat radiating from Cora’s body as she stood close to him, her breath coming out in soft, shallow pants. The scent of their mingled sweat and desire filled the air, intoxicating him.

“Bronx,” Cora murmured as she leaned in to capture his lips once more. Their mouths met hungrily, tongues dancing together in a fevered rhythm that mirrored the pounding of their hearts. As they broke apart, gasping for air, Cora’s eyes gazed into his with an intensity that left him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Let me,” she whispered, her small hands coming up to trace the edges of one of his many scars, the legacy of a lifetime spent defending his pack. He shivered at the sensation, the tender touch of her fingertips leaving trails of fire on his skin—and before he could protest, her lips followed the path her fingers had taken, pressing tender kisses along the jagged lines that marred his flesh.

“Wait,” Bronx choked out, trying to pull away from the soft brush of her mouth against his scarred skin. “You shouldn’t have to touch these ugly marks.”

“Stop it,” she admonished gently. “They are not ugly marks; they’re the proof of your strength, your loyalty, and your bravery. I want to honor them.”

He hesitated, torn between the shame of his scars and the desire to let her in completely. Her gaze never wavered, and he could see the determination shining in her eyes. It was that determination that finally broke through his defenses, and he surrendered to her touch, allowing her to explore the landscape of his body with her lips and tongue.

His past lifted from his shoulders as she continued to worship each scar. As she pressed a final, lingering kiss to the last one, he felt something shift within him, a newfound pride in the marks that had defined him for so long.

“Your scars are beautiful,” Cora whispered, her words wrapping around him like an embrace.

“Only because you see them that way,” he replied, pulling her close.

Cora’s fingers trembled against Bronx’s skin, her eyes never leaving his as she traced the scars that crisscrossed his body. The air between them was thick with emotion, charged like the moments before a storm.

“Bronx,” Cora said softly, her voice steady despite the quaver in her touch, “from the very first time I saw you in the hospital, I admired your willingness to protect your pack. You were so brave.” She paused, her dark eyes searching his. “I didn’t realize until later that you were the patient I’d watched over, the one who fought tooth and claw for those he loved.”

A quiet gasp escaped Bronx’s lips, his heart thundering in his chest. He had dreamed of an angel during his hospital stay, a beautiful and ethereal presence that had brought him comfort through pain and darkness. And now here she was before him, her eyes filled with vulnerability.

“You were there?” he stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around this revelation. “You were my…my angel?”

Cora’s cheeks flushed at the words, but she held his gaze, nodding slowly. “I was there. Watching over you, praying for your recovery.”

It all clicked into place: the sweet scent that had enveloped him that night, the familiar presence that had surrounded him in his darkest hour—it had been Cora.

He reached out to cup her face with both hands, a sense of awe washing over him as he finally put the pieces together. The fear and anxiety that had swirled within him since his injury began to subside, replaced by a newfound appreciation for the woman who had been by his side, even when he hadn’t known it.

“Thank you for being my strength when I had none,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Tears glistened in Cora’s eyes as she leaned into his touch, her own hands coming up to cover his. “You’ve always been stronger than you know,” she murmured. “Your scars are a testament to that.”

As they stood there, bodies pressed close and hearts beating in unison, Bronx realized it didn’t matter what the world saw when they looked at his scars. What mattered was the love he saw reflected in Cora’s eyes, the belief she had in him.

Bronx hesitated for a moment, feeling his confession pressing down on him like the paw of a predator—the kind no werewolf should ever have to face.

“I need to tell you something.”

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