He took me in his arms and led me to the large leather sofa.
Bronc’s rough palms framed my face like sacred relics or cradling cracked porcelain. His breath smelled of coffee and cinnamon from Pearl’s kitchen. Comfort layered over danger, and for a heartbeat, I let myself drown in it. The wall sconces carved shadows across his stubbled jaw where tension pulsed, primal and electric, as if his wolf paced just beneath his skin.
“Look at me.” His voice scraped low, alpha resonance thrumming through my bones despite its gentleness. My pulse hammered against his thumbs pressed to my throat—not restraint, but connection. “You think I’d let that bastard breathe near you again? After what he’s done?”
The confession tore from him like claws unsheathed: “I’ll burn cities for you, Little Wolf. Drain oceans. Tear every lab he’s built stone from stone until I find your mother.” His lips brushed my temple—promise and prayer fused into heat. “But I need you here. Anchored to me.”
Outside, cicadas screamed in the cedars lining the compound grounds, a symphony of wilderness mirroring the chaos in my veins. Harrison’s face flickered behind my eyelids: cold champagne eyes, knuckles glinting as he’d backhanded me last winter for burning his steak.
Bronc’s growl rumbled against my collarbone as though he could scent the memory roiling in my blood. “He doesn’t get to touch you.” Calloused fingers slid beneath my shirt, branding my waist where bruises once bloomed purple-gold under Harrison’srage, now barely scarred skin singing under Bronc’s possession. “Not your body.” His mouth trailed fire up my neck, teeth grazing the claiming scar still tender from yesterday’s moonlight frenzy between our wolves’ teeth and claws. “Not your fear.”
I arched into him instinctively—flames licking where terror had frosted my spine—but faltered when twin truths warred: His loyalty could get him killed. My love might be his slaughter.
The whimper tore free before I could cage it. Part plea, part shattered confession. And Bronc stilled like prey caught mid-hunt. When he pulled back, the light fractured in his blue irises into something feral, yet unbearably human.
“You doubt me?” No anger, just a raw ache lay bare between us.
“I doubthim,” I whispered through salt-stung lips. “What he’ll do when cornered.”
His laugh was a dark hymn against my mouth. “Let him come.” Fangs glinted faintly as he grinned—predator’s grace threaded with devotion that scalded worse than any threat. “All the better if he does. Saves me tracking him through whatever hellhole he’s infesting.”
Wind howled suddenly through the canyon beyond our window—a phantom wail that raised gooseflesh along my arms. But Bronc’s hands were heat incarnate, kneading the chill from my flesh as his words sank talons deep:
“Harrison dies screaming for what he took from you.” A vow etched in blood and bone. “And when I bring your mother out safely?” His thumb swept the tear I hadn’t felt fall. “You’ll finally believe you were made for more than survival.”
The kiss crashed through me then—wilderness given teeth and tongue—as if he could rewrite every lie Harrison branded into me with nothing but fear and need for acceptance:
Mine.
Worthy.
Unbroken.
I closed my eyes. And let him hold the shattered pieces together just a little longer.
“Now, sleep, my mate. I need for you to rest.” He kissed my forehead and walked out the front door.
His words looped in my head, but all I could see was my mother’s face. My dad read Harrison’s demand. I knew Harrison. He was angry. Finished waiting.
Even though my eyelids were heavy, I still thought about the backpack I had stored upstairs in my closet. The envelope filled with cash from when I fled New York was still there. My getaway money I’d called it then. I’d held onto it just in case Dairyville didn’t work out. But oh, how it worked out. I loved it here. I never had any intention of ever leaving.
Give them another two weeks, I decided, counting the bills in my mind. Two weeks of Bronc’s optimism, his cables and codes and covert sweeps. If Mom wasn’t blinking into a video feed by dawn on day fourteen, I’d vanish before breakfast. I’d take Bronc’s King Ranch at 5 a.m. and stop at the closest truck stop. There, I’d purchase a burner phone and a Visa gift card and use it to order an Uber to Amarillo International. I’d board a plane to somewhere far away. Then I’d call Harrison.
“You want me?” I’d say when he answered, cool as winter steel. “Then let her go first.” He’d have me, but wouldn’t be close to the Iron Valor Pack.
Chapter 24
Bronc
“FUCK. How can there be no leads?” I bellowed from my spot at the head of the table, my eyes sweeping the room with hardened determination as my voice reverberated over the low hum of urgent conversation. My elite special forces team surrounded me, a tangle of muscle and ego and intense skill. Menace and Doc focused on an aerial map spread on the table’s scarred metal surface, markers of every color dotting its worn and pockmarked face. Wrecker, Arsenal, and Papa sat with their laptops, keyboards tapping and entering commands into already overloaded systems. It had been days since I’d held Juliet. Our bond stretched and thinned by both time and miles.
I rubbed my hand over the stubble that lined my jaw, then checked my phone again. Nothing. We normally worked on timelines of weeks, not days. This was pushing our limits.
“How he vanished after intel said he landed in Honduras is a mystery,” Doc said, his voice low and edged with annoyance. “He has to have someone on his team with skills.”
“Somebody who knew how to disappear them,” Menace added, his tone sharp with frustration. “I don’t get it.”
My chest ached with every beat, the distance between Juliet and our bond taking a toll I’d never thought I’d experience. I clenched my hand to still the dull, relentless throb and willedmyself to focus on the task at hand. I had to get this shit handled so I could get back to her and make sure she wasn’t suffering. We were going on almost a month. I never expected it to take this long.
