Page 52 of His Temptation

A sharp sound echoed through the warehouse—static from a radio. One guard lifted it to his mouth, listening to the transmission. His face paled.

Siobhan’s heart pounded. Daragh was here.

The moment of distraction was all she needed. She didn’t hesitate. She slammed her heel into the floor, using the momentum to rock the chair back, sending her crashing onto the concrete. Pain lanced through her ribs and mouth, but she ignored it, twisting her body, yanking her arms forward.

The zip ties cut into her skin, but she forced her wrists apart, snapping the plastic with the force of her shifter strength. By the time she rolled to her feet, the first guard was already moving toward her.

Siobhan lunged. She went low, driving her shoulder into his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. He stumbled, and she wrenched the gun from his belt, flipping it in her hands before pressing the barrel under his chin.

“Don’t,” she warned, her voice deadly.

Sebastian’s expression was no longer amused. “Kill her.”

Gunfire erupted. Siobhan dove for cover behind a stack of metal crates, bullets sparking against the rusted steel. The guards were mercenaries, not trained assassins, and Sebastian had paid them with his dwindling resources. That gave her an advantage.

The other, much larger advantage exploded through the main door—the sound deafening. A wall of bodies stormed inside—Daragh at the front, Murphy and Finn flanking his sides.

Siobhan barely had time to breathe before Daragh moved.

He was a blur, faster than any human, his panther instincts driving him forward. He didn’t fire his gun—he didn’t need to. The first man who got in his way was dead before he could react, Daragh’s hands closing around his throat, snapping it with effortless brutality.

Gunfire filled the air, Murphy and Finn cutting through the remaining guards with precision. Siobhan fired her stolen gun, taking out one of Sebastian’s men before he could aim at Daragh.

Sebastian, the coward, started to run. Siobhan pushed off the crates, ignoring the ache in her ribs. Her gaze locked on the man who had once controlled every aspect of her life. She sprinted, closing the distance between them as Sebastian reached the side door. He fumbled with the lock, cursing under his breath. Siobhan didn’t give him the chance to escape.

She tackled him from behind, sending them both to the ground.

Sebastian snarled, twisting beneath her. He was strong, but she was stronger. She drove her knee into his ribs, pinning him.

Daragh’s voice cut through the chaos. “Move, kitten.”

Siobhan rolled to the side just as Daragh loomed over them, his gun trained on Sebastian’s skull.

Sebastian’s lip curled, but for the first time, there was something close to fear in his eyes. “You won’t kill me.”

Daragh’s smile was slow, lethal. “You’re right. Not yet.” Siobhan wiped the blood from her mouth, glaring down at the man who had haunted her for years. Daragh’s voice was deadly calm. “But I will make you wish I had.”

Sebastian had always been a slippery bastard. Even now, with Daragh’s boot pressing against his chest, pinning him to the cold concrete floor, he still had that air of entitlement—the kind of arrogance that made him believe he could talk his way out of anything.

“You can’t kill me, O’Neill,” he spat, trying to mask the slight tremor in his voice. “You need me. And if you don’t, MI5 does. You think you can just execute me in the middle of this hellhole and walk away?”

Daragh cocked his head, his eyes glacial, devoid of any emotion beyond cold calculation. “Aye,” he murmured. “I do.”

Sebastian’s lips curled, his gaze flicking toward the side door where one of his remaining men was edging closer. The fool thought he could make a move, save his boss. Siobhan didn’t give him the chance. She raised the pistol she’d stolen, aimed, and fired. The man collapsed before he could even lift his gun, blood pooling beneath his body.

Flinching at the sound of the shot, Sebastian’s body jerked beneath Daragh’s boot. “She’s not who you thought she was is she? She’s far more lethal and intelligent than any of you will ever know.”

Sebastian let out a breathy chuckle, looking up at Siobhan as if she was still that scared girl he had once controlled. “You don’t have it in you, love. No matter how much you play at being his equal, you’ll never be like him.”

Siobhan tilted her head, considering the pathetic man beneath Daragh’s heel. “You’re right,” she said, keeping her voice steady, almost soft. “I’ll never be like him.”

Daragh met her gaze, his grip on the gun tightening, understanding exactly what she meant. She wouldn’t kill Sebastian herself because she understood that was Daragh’s right.

Sebastian had sealed his own fate the moment he put a bounty on her head. He had just been too stupid and delusional to realize it.

Daragh pressed down harder with his boot, grinding Sebastian’s ribs into the floor, forcing a choked gasp from his lips. “You made a mistake, Wolfe,” he said conversationally, his voice deceptively calm. “You thought you could own her. Thought you could use her. And then you had the balls to put a bounty on her head.”

Sebastian bared his teeth, but there was panic behind his defiance now. “You kill me, MI5 will never stop coming for her. They’ll hunt her down, and when they find her, she’ll be in a prison far worse than anything I would have put her in.”

---