Page 28 of His Possession

Maeve’s eyes narrowed, her chin lifting slightly. “I’m not a liability, Rory.”

“I never said you were,” Rory said, his voice softening. “But this isn’t just about you. If something happens…”

“It won’t,” Maeve interrupted, echoing his earlier words. “I will not sit back and let other people fight my battles. I’m here. I’m your mate. That makes me part of this, whether or not you like it.”

Rory stared at her, his jaw tightening as he tried to rein in the surge of emotions she stirred in him. She was infuriating, reckless, and entirely too brave for her own good. And he’d never wanted anyone more in his life.

“You don’t make this easy,” he muttered.

Maeve’s expression softened, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not supposed to.”

The moment hung between them, the noise of the room fading into the background. Rory’s hand lifted almost of its own accord, his fingers brushing against her cheek. Her soft, warm skin was a comforting contrast to the surrounding turmoil.

“Maeve,” he whispered, her name a plea and a warning all at once.

She stepped closer, her gaze locking onto his. “We’ll get through this, Rory.”

Her certainty should have been reassuring, but it only made his chest tighten further. He couldn’t lose her—not now. And if this was their last moment before everything fell apart, he would not waste it.

Rory’s hand slid to the back of her neck as he pulled her closer, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both desperate and consuming. Maeve responded instantly, her hands clutching his shirt as she leaned into him. The heat between them flared, a fire that burned away the fear and doubt that had plagued him all night.

It wasn’t enough, but it was everything he needed. A reminder of what he was fighting for, of the life he refused to let slip through his fingers.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, Rory exhaled slowly, his hand still cradling her neck. “Stay close to me,” he said, his voice low. “No matter what happens.”

Maeve nodded, her gaze unwavering. “I will.”

The sound of Malachy’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and urgent. “We’re ready to move.”

Rory stepped back, his expression hardening as he turned to face his men. The calm, calculating leader was back, his emotions locked away behind an impenetrable wall. But as he led the team out of the warehouse and into the night, his thoughts remained on Maeve.

She was his now, in every way that mattered. And no one—not Kelleher, not O’Connell—would take her from him.

Not while he was still breathing.

CHAPTER 11

MAEVE

Maeve’s heart hammered against her ribs as she stepped into the warehouse, the cold air biting at her skin. The differences between being cougar and now being panther were subtle, yet profound. Even though both were predators, the panther was more aggressive, not as given to consider hiding versus attacking. She had always thought a lot of the other predatory cat shifters relied more on brawn than brains, but she found her panther every bit as intelligent.

Every nerve in her body was alive, her panther instincts prowling just beneath the surface as she scanned the cavernous space. Dim, flickering overhead lights cast shadows over the crates and metal beams, turning every corner into a potential threat. The warehouse smelled of damp concrete, oil, and the faint, acrid tang of sweat and adrenaline.

In order to let the younger Kelleher believe he was in control, Rory had agreed to allow Maeve to enter alone. What Tadhg didn’t know was that while she walked beside him, Rory and his men were readying themselves for the confrontation they knew was coming. Tadhg’s bulky frame was a silent threat, his movements deliberate and heavy. He might be a killer, but he wasn’t a true predator and did not move with any kind ofgrace. His men flanked them, their footsteps echoing his on the concrete floor.

Maeve forced herself to focus, to push aside the fear tightening her throat. Rory had prepared her for this. “Stay calm. Focus on your breathing. Don’t let them see your fear,” he’d said.

Rory’s voice in her memory steadied her. His words played in her mind like a mantra as she took a measured breath, drawing strength from the confidence he had instilled in her. This wasn’t the time to question his experience or falter. She needed to be strong for Sabella and for herself. Their lives could very well hang in the balance.

Tadhg’s eyes slid toward her, his lips pulling into something too cruel to be called a smile. “You’re braver than I expected, Maeve. Or perhaps just foolish. And it’s clear McMahon doesn’t value you. You may be his newest fuck toy, but that is all you are to him.”

“I’m neither,” Maeve replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “I came to ensure Sabella is unharmed.”

Although she clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides, her words remained unwavering. Tadhg’s laugh was low and mocking, but she didn’t flinch. Rory’s lessons echoed again. Hold your ground. The power dynamic in situations like this wasn’t just about weapons; it was about control. And Tadhg wanted her scared.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Ah, the loyalty of a friend,” Tadhg said, gesturing toward the far end of the warehouse. “Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon enough.”

---