Page 26 of His Temptation

She felt his fear. The way his body locked up, his pulse thundering wildly. She pressed her massive paw against his chest, her eyes burning into his. The second agent was already scrambling to recover, reaching for his weapon.

She turned on him with a snarl. He froze. His gaze flicked between her and his partner, realization dawning that this was no ordinary extraction. No ordinary woman.

His hesitation cost him. Boots thundered against the stone. A gun cocked. Siobhan’s ears twitched just as a gunshot rang out. The second agent crumpled before he could fire.

She turned just as Daragh stepped onto the terrace, his gun still raised, his expression calm, too calm, as if he had expected this to happen all along. His gaze flicked to her, his mouth curving into something dark, unreadable.

“Look at you, kitten,” he murmured, lowering his gun slightly as he took in her panther form. “Should’ve known it’d take something like this to make you finally let go.”

Siobhan let out a low growl, her fur bristling, but she didn’t move.

Daragh took a slow step forward, his voice dropping to something almost amused. “Now, be a good girl and shift back.”

The demand curled around her, sparking something deep inside her that had nothing to do with obedience and everything to do with the way her body still throbbed with the wild, heady rush of her first true shift in years.

She had forgotten what it felt like. Forgotten thefreedom.

Daragh crouched slightly, his gaze locked onto hers, something deeper flashing behind the command. “Or,” hemused, tilting his head, “should I start giving orders in a way you actually want to obey?”

Siobhan’s snarl was immediate. Daragh’s chuckle was low, dark. She hated him. Hated how much she liked the way he said it. She forced her panther back into the recesses of her mind.

DARAGH

Daragh had seen nothing as mesmerizing as Siobhan standing before him—naked, fierce, and utterly lethal. The blood-slicked terrace was littered with bodies, but his gaze never left her. Not for a single second.

She was breathing hard, her eyes still glowing from the shift, her skin flushed from the fight. Her panther had been magnificent—sleek, powerful, deadly. He had watched her move with brutal efficiency, her instincts razor-sharp. She had fought like she was born for this, like she had finally stopped denying what she was.

And now? Now she knelt before him, human once more, her pulse hammering against her throat, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of battle.

Daragh knew that feeling. He lived for that feeling. The heat of combat, the rush of dominance, the certainty of standing victorious when the dust settled.

But this was different. This wasn’t just any fight. Wasn’t just any kill. This was her.

His blood still ran hot, his body taut with the need to take—to claim what was his. It had been bad before, but now? Now that he had seen her for what she truly was, it was far worse.

She was his. His fated mate. His match. His problem and his salvation, all wrapped into one furious, untamed woman.

Daragh forced his breathing even, but it didn’t matter. Siobhan could feel it. He saw the way her pupils dilated, the way her lips parted slightly, the way her hands clenched into fists like she wanted to fight the very thing she already knew was inevitable.

He lifted a hand, dragging the backs of his fingers along her jaw, needing to touch her, needing to feel the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips.

Siobhan shivered, her body betraying her despite the fire still burning in her gaze.

Daragh leaned in, just enough to brush his lips over the sensitive spot beneath her ear, his voice dark, heated. “I knew you were magnificent, but fuck,kitten.” He let the words hang between them, his fingers tracing the bare skin where her iron collar had been just days ago. “I don’t think you even realize who and what you truly are.”

Siobhan sucked in a sharp breath, but she didn’t pull away. Daragh shifted his grip, his hand curving around the side of her neck, not squeezing, just holding her there. His thumb stroked her pulse, feeling it race beneath his touch. He could still scent her arousal, no matter how hard she tried to mask it.

“You were made for me,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear, his grip tightening just slightly. “You just don’t want to admit it yet.”

She shuddered, a barely there tremble that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with this—with them. Daragh let himself smile slowly as he realized she felt it. She knew.

Siobhan clenched her jaw, her nails biting into her palms, as if sheer force of will could keep her body from responding. As if she could somehow deny the pull between them.

Daragh pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. He saw the battle raging in her, the part of her that wanted him, that needed to submit to the dominant force he exuded, fighting against the part of her that still clung to her carefully constructed illusion of control.

Too bad. That illusion had shattered the moment she had let her panther out.

He ran his thumb along her jaw, watching as she fought to steady her breathing. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured.

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