Page 47 of Bronx
Ryker moved to stand by the alpha’s side in the living room, maps and plans spread out over the coffee table. The sight of Steele’s serious expression only served to remind Bronx of the gravity of their situation.
“Bronx, Ryker,” Steele said, nodding at each of them in turn. “Today, we put an end to the rebels’ terrorism. So let’s go over the plan one more time.” Steele stared intently at Bronx and Ryker. “We’ll lead the rebels to the clearing, using the ceremony as bait. Once they’re inside, we’ll have our pack members surround them, effectively cutting off any escape routes.”
“Right,” Ryker chimed in, pointing to strategic locations on the map. “We’ve positioned our strongest fighters at key points where they can quickly move in and subdue the rebels. We’ll take them prisoner and ensure they no longer pose a threat to us or our allies.”
Bronx listened carefully, committing every detail to memory. His gaze flicked between Steele and Ryker as they discussed the finer points of their strategy, hoping to glean some reassurance from their confidence. He knew they had planned for every eventuality, but the nagging fear still lingered.
“Are we certain that this will work?” Bronx asked hesitantly, his eyes betraying his unease. “What if something goes wrong?”
“Nothing will go wrong,” Steele assured him. “We’ve prepared for every possibility, and our pack is strong enough to handle anything they throw at us. Trust in your instincts, and in the strength of our pack.”
Pride suffused Bronx’s entire body at his alpha’s words. And yet anxiety still clung to him like a stubborn shadow. He glanced over at Ryker, who seemed to sense his worry, and gave him a reassuring smile.
“Steele’s right,” Ryker added, giving Bronx a pat on the shoulder. “We’ve got this, cuz. Whatever happens today, we’ll deal with it. Now let’s go pick up our suits and get ready for the ceremony.”
Bronx nodded, forcing a small smile onto his face. With one last glance at the plans, they set off to retrieve their formal attire. As they walked, Bronx thought of Cora, waiting back at the lodge. Despite the terror that threatened to overwhelm him, he knew he would do whatever it took to protect her and the rest of the Moonstone Pack. And as they collected their suits, the reality of the upcoming events began to truly sink in. Today, they would face the rebels head-on, and with luck, put an end to their threat once and for all.
And then Bronx would stand beside Cora, surrounded by their pack, and pledge himself to her.
That might be the most terrifying moment of all, he acknowledged to himself.
But it would also be the most important one.
The night sky was an inky black, speckled with bright stars that pierced the darkness as if daring it to swallow them whole. The air was crisp and cool as Bronx, Steele, and Ryker made their way through the dense forest surrounding Yellowstone Park. They were heading toward the clearing where the mating ceremony would be held, knowing that their packmates had already begun gathering there.
“Are you ready for this?” Steele asked as they approached the edge of the clearing.
“Absolutely,” Bronx replied quietly, the inevitability of the battle finally bringing a cold calm to the very center of his being. He knew what lay ahead—the trap they had set for the rebels, the potential for violence, the uncertainty of whether their plan would succeed. And yet, despite the fear that threatened to consume him, he also felt an unshakable determination to see it through. For Cora, for his pack, and for himself.
As they stepped into the clearing, the sight that greeted them was both heartening and anxiety-inducing. Half the Moonstone Pack’s wolf shifters of fighting age had gathered, their expressions reflecting anticipation, excitement, and barely contained nerves.
“Let’s get these torches lit and make this place look like we’re here to celebrate,” Ryker instructed, his voice firm but reassuring. He tossed a torch to Bronx, who caught it deftly and lit it, the flame casting golden light across him.
“Remember to act natural,” Steele reminded them all, addressing the assembled shifters. “We don’t want the rebels suspecting anything.”
Bronx glanced around the clearing, searching for Cora’s familiar figure, and he knew he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
“Hey, you’re not the only one worried about someone,” Ryker said softly, catching Bronx’s eye. “We’ll protect our pack, and each other. That’s what we do.”
Bronx nodded and continued lighting torches alongside the others until the flames flickered along the entire perimeter of the clearing, casting shadows that danced and swayed like restless spirits.
As the flames burned brightly, laughter and conversation began to fill the air. They acted as though they were there for a joyous occasion, and yet, beneath the surface, lay the unspoken readiness, the understanding that danger was imminent.
The pack continued their preparations. Each shifter knew the risks they faced, and yet they stood together, ready to defend their home and their loved ones against any threat. In that moment, fear and bravery intertwined, feeding off each other like two sides of the same coin. And as the moon rose into the sky, it cast a silvery light over the clearing, watching over the Moonstone Pack as they braced themselves for what lay ahead.
The moonlit shadows danced across the clearing as Bronx shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing over the area for any signs of trouble. In the distance, he could hear the faint rustling of leaves and the crunch of twigs underfoot, but it was impossible to tell friend from foe in the darkness.
Suddenly, a series of yelps cut through the darkness—three distinct cries. It was Nick’s signal: the rebels had been spotted. He gritted his teeth, his heart pounding in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins.
“Stay calm,” Steele murmured, just loud enough for Bronx and Ryker to hear. “Don’t let them see any fear.”
Bronx nodded, swallowing hard as he forced himself to maintain a relaxed facade. The other shifters around him did the same, continuing their conversations and laughter as if they were blissfully unaware of the impending danger. Yet beneath the surface, Bronx could sense their shared anxiety, the tension that thrummed like a living thing among them.
“Where’s Cora?” Bronx asked. The thought of her being caught in the cross fire filled him with terror, and he knew he couldn’t stand idly by while she was potentially at risk.
“I saw her near the center stone earlier,” Ryker replied, worry marring his features. “Go find her. We’ll watch your back.”
With a grateful nod, Bronx wove his way through the gathered pack members, his eyes never ceasing their search for Cora’s slight form. As he approached the center stone, he finally spotted her, her eyes wide with worry as she glanced around the clearing.