Page 39 of His Temptation

He let go of Siobhan and shifted. The mist swirled around him as his body morphed from human to black panther, reforming into something far beyond human.

The world slowed.

The attacker hesitated, eyes widening in terror. He fired.

Daragh dodged, moving too fast, too fluid. Before the man could react, he was on him.

His claws ripped into flesh. His jaws clamped down on a throat, crushing bone, silencing the bastard’s scream before it fully formed. Blood splattered against the walls, hot and fresh, the taste of vengeance coating Daragh’s tongue.

He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

He tore through the intruder like he was nothing, bones cracking, flesh giving way beneath his claws. The man gurgled once, then went limp, his body falling in two separate pieces to the blood-soaked floor.

The battle still raged around him, but Daragh’s vision tunneled.

He needed more. More blood. More vengeance.

He turned, his gaze landing on another attacker—a terrified man trying to back away, gun shaking in his hands.

Daragh lunged.

But before he could strike, a voice cut through the haze.

“Daragh, stop.”

Soft hands touched his fur, sliding over his back, curling into the thick ruff at his neck. A scent wrapped around him, familiar and grounding.

Siobhan.

His mate.

She was still bleeding, still weak, but she was standing, pressing herself against him despite her injury.

“Come back to me,” she whispered, her voice steady. “Come back, Daragh.”

His panther snarled, caught between fury and instinct, but she didn’t flinch. Her fingers smoothed over his fur, slow and patient.

“It’s over,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “The men have them in hand. You don’t need to do this.”

The beast inside him fought, still hungry for violence, still craving more blood. But Siobhan was warm against him, her touch gentle, her presence undeniable. His mate needed him, not the monster.

With a shuddering breath, Daragh forced his panther to recede and the swirling mist enveloped him once more. This time when it dissipated, he was human—naked, human and highly aroused.

He fell to his knees, breath ragged, covered in blood that wasn’t his own. His chest heaved, his hands still curled like claws, shaking with the remnants of his transformation. Siobhan was kneeling in front of him, her face pale, her hand pressed against the wound in her side. But her eyes… Her eyes weren’t afraid.

She reached for him, fingertips skimming his cheek, wiping away a streak of crimson. “You’re back.”

Daragh swallowed hard, his throat tight. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “You shouldn’t be standing.”

She let out a quiet laugh, breathless but steady. “And you shouldn’t be eating people alive, yet here we are.”

His lips twitched despite himself. “He deserved it.”

Siobhan sighed, shaking her head. “Maybe. But you don’t need to be the monster all the time, Daragh.”

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face. The beast inside him still growled, still craved more, but Siobhan’s touch soothed it, calmed the storm.

The gunfire had died down. The estate was eerily quiet, save for the distant shouts of Murphy and Finn rounding up the survivors.

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