Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
SIOBHAN
T he manor was too quiet. It had been a hive of activity immediately after the attack, but had then settled back into a heightened state of watching… and waiting.
Siobhan sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the hem of the new robe she had thrown on after Daragh cleaned her wound. The fabric was soft against her skin, but nothing about tonight felt soft. The air held the remnants of blood and gunpowder, the metallic scent lingering no matter how many doors Murphy had thrown open to let the night air in.
Daragh had been gone for almost an hour, leaving her in their room with strict orders to rest while he and Finn handled the cleanup. It had taken everything in her not to lash out at him. After all, she had taken a bullet for him, not the other way around. The least he could do was let her decide whether she needed to be coddled. But Daragh didn’t coddle. That wasn’t what this was. His dominance was something deeper, something unyielding.
And despite the chaos still storming through her body, she hadn’t argued. Truth be told, she needed this moment to breathe.
She glanced at the wound just below her ribs; the area cleaned and bandaged. It ached, a steady pulse of pain, but nothing compared to the storm twisting inside her. Daragh had carried her through the wreckage of the fight like she was something fragile, something precious, but she wasn’t. She had spent too many years surviving to feel fragile now.
Yet, when he had protected her, when he had torn through those men in a fit of violence so vicious she had barely recognized him, something deep inside her had changed—an undeniable, visceral realization taking root in her soul.
Not fear, not shock, but something else—something that terrified her more than either of those things.
A warm gust of wind swept through the open balcony doors, pushing the curtains aside. Beyond the estate walls, the world felt distant, unreal. The city still pulsed in the distance, life moving on as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t had her entire world reshaped in a single night.
She had known what Daragh was. Had seen him shift. But witnessing him lose control, seeing his panther take over so completely—it had sent something dark and possessive through her. It hadn’t just been rage; it had been fury—over her.
Siobhan shivered, gripping the robe tighter. She should leave. That thought had been circling through her mind for hours, whispering to her like a ghost. The bullet, the attack, Sebastian’s growing desperation—this would not end cleanly. If she stayed, more people would die.
And yet… she wasn’t moving.
The bedroom door opened with a quiet creak, and before she even turned, she knew it was Daragh. His presence filled the room instantly, a gravitational pull she had no hope of resisting.
She turned slowly, taking him in.
He was still bare-chested, wearing only black sweatpants, his skin streaked with dried blood that wasn’t his. His movements were careful, controlled, but she could see the violence simmering just beneath the surface.
Without a word, he crossed the room, coming to stand before her. The air between them thickened, the weight of everything unsaid pressing in.
He reached out, brushing his fingers over her bandaged side, his touch deceptively gentle. “How bad?”
Siobhan forced a breath into her lungs, tilting her chin up. “I’ll live.”
Daragh’s gaze flicked to hers, something dangerous flashing in his blue eyes. “That’s not an answer.”
She swallowed. “It went through clean. It’ll heal fast.”
His jaw tightened, the muscles in his forearm flexing as his fingers curled into a fist at his side. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
She let out a breath, shaking her head. “You think I regret it?”
Daragh’s gaze darkened. “You should.”
Something inside her snapped. She pushed to her feet, closing the space between them. “I don’t.”
His nostrils flared, his control visibly fraying. “You took a bullet for me.”
She held his gaze, unwavering. “I’d do it again.”
The air between them crackled.
Daragh’s hands shot up, gripping her waist, pulling her against him with a force that sent a sharp jolt of pain through her wound. She gasped, but it wasn’t from the pain. It was from the way he looked at her, the way his fingers dug into her hips as if he was anchoring himself to her.
“Damn you, kitten,” he muttered, his breath hot against her forehead.
Siobhan let out a humorless laugh. “I never expected you to protect me, Daragh.”
His grip tightened. “Well, that was your mistake.”
A shiver ran down her spine.
This was dangerous.
Not the men outside the estate. Not the war brewing on the horizon.
This. Him.
Because he wasn’t just claiming her body. He wasn’t just binding them together through the bite on her neck or the vows they had exchanged. He was making himself the one thing she had never allowed anyone else to be—her protector.
And God help her, but she wanted it. Somehow she knew she’d always wanted it.
His hand moved from her waist to her jaw, tilting her head back. His gaze dropped to her lips, and for a second, she thought he would kiss her.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he leaned in, brushing his mouth against her ear, his voice low and unyielding. “You don’t run, Siobhan.”
“You can’t keep me.”
His lips curved against her skin. “I already have.”
She shuddered, unable to deny the truth in his words.
Because no matter how many times she told herself she would run, that she had to leave before she lost herself completely—she wasn’t moving. If she was being truthful with herself, she knew that time had passed.
Daragh inhaled deeply, his grip easing just enough to let her breathe. “Get some rest.”
Siobhan closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. “I won’t be able to sleep.”
Daragh’s thumb brushed over her cheek. “Then don’t.”
She looked up at him, something breaking open inside her. “What if I can’t stop wanting you?”
Daragh’s gaze turned molten. “Then stop pretending you never did.”
Siobhan swallowed hard, her throat tight. She was in trouble. Because this wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about him.
Siobhan’s heartbeat hammered in her chest, a traitorous rhythm she had no control over as Daragh’s fingers tightened on her jaw. His touch wasn’t painful, but it commanded her attention, ensuring she couldn’t look away. Not from him. Not from the truth she’d been trying so desperately to ignore.
She was his. Everything inside her rebelled against the thought, but no amount of denial could erase what had happened tonight. What had happened every night since he had stolen her away. She had fought him, clawed for any measure of control, and yet, when the moment had come, she hadn’t hesitated. She had stepped between him and a bullet, as if her instincts had known something she wasn’t ready to admit.
She wasn’t just his captive. She wasn’t just his wife. She was his fated mate.
Daragh’s thumb brushed over her lower lip, his voice like crushed velvet and steel. “Say it, kitten.”
She swallowed hard, her throat working against the truth clawing its way to the surface. “Say what?”
Daragh’s grip shifted, sliding into her hair, tugging her head back just enough to bare her throat to him. The claiming mark on her neck pulsed, an ever-present reminder of what he had already taken. “You know what.”
Her pulse pounded beneath his fingers. “It changes nothing.”
His chuckle was dark, lethal. “It changes everything.”
Siobhan clenched her jaw, willing herself not to tremble. “I never agreed to this.”
“You didn’t have to.” Daragh leaned in, his breath hot against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “You feel it, don’t you? The way your body reacts to me? The way you ache when I’m not inside you?” His grip tightened, his dominance pouring over her like a tangible force. “Deny it all you want, kitten, but I know the truth. Your body knows. Your panther knows.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, her nails pressing into his chest. “That doesn’t mean I want this.”
Daragh’s lips ghosted over her jaw. “Then why haven’t you run?”
Siobhan hated that she had no answer. The truth was, she didn’t want to leave.
Even now, as he stood in front of her, his body a furnace of heat and control, her instincts screamed at her to submit. She had spent so long resisting, trying to convince herself that she was still free, still in control of her own fate. But that was a lie.
She had belonged to him from the moment he had touched her.
Daragh’s fingers trailed down her spine, slow and deliberate, making her body tense in anticipation. “You can fight me all you want, but we both know how this ends.”
Siobhan let out a shaky breath. “You’re an arrogant bastard.”
He grinned, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear. “And you’re still standing here, letting me touch you.”
Damn him. She wanted to shove him away, to claw at his skin just to make him bleed for making her feel like this. But instead, she tilted her head, granting him better access to her throat.
Daragh groaned, his grip tightening. “Good girl.”
Heat pooled low in her belly at those words, at the way he could reduce her to nothing but sensation with just his voice.
She should run. She should push him away. Instead, she melted.
Daragh didn’t wait for her to change her mind. He spun her, pressing her against the bed, his body caging hers beneath him. The dominance in his touch sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, her body already arching into his without thought.
“You’re mine, Siobhan,” he murmured against her throat, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin just above her pulse. “Say it.”
She turned her head away, refusing.
Daragh growled low in his throat, his hands gliding down her sides, gripping her hips as he spread her legs with his knee. “You’ll admit it before the night is over.”
Siobhan’s breath hitched as he dragged his fingers down her stomach, slipping beneath the robe, finding her soaked and ready for him.
“Fuck,” Daragh groaned. “You can’t even pretend you don’t want this.”
Siobhan bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
He punished her for it. His fingers slid inside her without warning, curling against the spot that made her entire body tighten. She gasped, her back arching, but he pinned her down, holding her exactly where he wanted.
“Say it,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Siobhan shook her head, her breath coming fast. “No.”
Daragh’s pace slowed to an unbearable tease, pulling her to the edge of release only to hold her there.
“Say it,” he demanded again, his lips brushing over the mark at her nape.
Siobhan let out a strangled moan, her fingers digging into his arms. “You…”
Daragh withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty, throbbing, desperate. She let out a whimper of frustration, her pride fracturing under the sheer force of her need.
Daragh’s voice was a dark promise against her ear. “Let me hear you say it, kitten.”
Siobhan squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head.
He dragged his cock against her entrance, teasing, taunting, but refusing to give her what she needed. “Say it.”
Her entire body was on fire. She wanted to fight him, to hold on to the last shred of control she had left. But it was useless. She was already his.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “Please.”
Daragh groaned, his control snapping. “Say it.”
He thrust inside her in one brutal stroke, seating himself deep, stretching her around his thick length. Siobhan gasped, her nails biting into his back as he filled her completely.
Daragh’s hands gripped her hips, his body pressing her into the mattress. “Say it.”
Siobhan clenched around him, her breath coming fast.
Daragh’s hand slid up her throat, his thumb brushing over her jaw, his gaze locking onto hers. “Say it, kitten.”
She trembled, her body tightening around him. “I’m yours.”
Daragh let out a victorious growl, his grip tightening. “Damn right you are.”
Then he fucked her like he was staking his claim all over again.
Every thrust sent pleasure spiraling through her, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over until she was clawing at him, desperate, mindless, lost.
When she came, it wasn’t just an orgasm.
It was surrender.
And as Daragh ground against her, spilling himself inside her, she knew she was his… completely, irrevocably. She knew she would never belong to anyone else.
Siobhan lay tangled in the sheets, her body still pulsing with the aftershocks of what had just happened. Her skin was damp, her thighs still trembled, her throat marked by the claiming bite that sealed her fate. She had fought against him, against this, against the undeniable truth of what they were to each other, but in the end, Daragh had shattered every wall she’d ever built. She had no defenses left. None.
The cool night air drifted through the cracked window, teasing against her heated skin, but it did nothing to soothe the chaos inside her. She wasn’t just his in name, wasn’t just bound by circumstance or force. He had claimed her body, mind, and soul. And now, there was no turning back.
Beside her, Daragh ran a possessive hand down her back, his grip firm as he pulled her closer. He didn’t touch her to comfort her—he touched her to remind her. She belonged to him. She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze in the dim light. His eyes, hooded and filled with satisfaction, hid something deeper, something more dangerous.
“What are you thinking, kitten?” His voice was a low rumble against her skin.
“How do you know I’m thinking anything?”
Daragh chuckled. “You’re always thinking.”
Siobhan swallowed, but her throat was tight. “I was thinking I don’t know what happens next.”
Daragh’s lips curved into a slight smile, though there was no amusement in it. “I do.”
“Do you?”
His fingers traced lazy patterns over her hip, but his gaze didn’t waver. “You’re mine now. Not just in bed. Not just in name. Mine.”
Her breath hitched. She should have fought him on it. She should have thrown his possessiveness back in his face. Instead, she curled her fingers against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
“This isn’t what I wanted.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of her truth.
Daragh tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Liar.”
A sharp burst of irritation flared in her, but it was useless to fight it. He was right, damn him.
She turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her fingers trailing absently over the mark he had left on her. She could still feel the bite, the pressure of his teeth sinking into her skin, sealing the bond that had already existed between them long before either of them acknowledged it.
It was too much. Too much want. Too much need. Too much of everything she had spent years trying to keep at bay.
Siobhan forced herself to sit up, ignoring the way her body protested the movement. She needed space, needed air, needed something that wasn’t Daragh’s presence suffocating her.
But the second she moved, his hand curled around her wrist, stopping her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She stiffened, her fingers curling into the sheet beneath her. “I just need a minute.”
Daragh’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. “You don’t get to run, kitten.”
Frustration clawed at her, mingling with the helpless arousal that still pulsed low in her belly. “I’m not running.”
Daragh sat up, his gaze dark, knowing. “You are. And you know how I feel about disobedience.”
Siobhan’s stomach twisted, a pulse of heat flickering through her she refused to acknowledge. She tried to yank her hand free, but it was useless.
“I just need to think.”
Daragh’s grip eased, but his dominance didn’t. He studied her, his eyes scanning her face, reading her in a way that made her want to crawl out of her own skin.
“Think all you want,” he murmured, dragging his knuckles down the inside of her arm. “But it won’t change anything.”
She wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that none of this was fair, that he had taken her choices and made them his own. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, she knew—this wasn’t something she could walk away from.
Not because of the bond. Not because of the sex. But because of him.
Daragh O’Neill wasn’t just a possessive bastard. He wasn’t just dangerous or controlling or the kind of man who took what he wanted without hesitation. He was loyal. He was ruthless in his protection. He was hers, in the same way she was his.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
A knock at the door shattered the moment. Daragh’s head snapped toward the sound, his entire body going taut with tension.
Murphy’s voice was grim. “Daragh, you need to come downstairs.”
Daragh was out of bed in an instant, grabbing his pants from the chair and pulling them on with practiced ease. Siobhan scrambled for the robe he had given her earlier, tying it tightly around her waist as he threw open the door.
Murphy’s expression was stone cold. “It’s Sebastian.”
Siobhan’s breath stalled.
Daragh’s entire body tensed. “What now?”
Murphy’s gaze flicked to her before settling back on Daragh. “He’s put another bounty out. On her this time.”
Siobhan’s stomach dropped.
Daragh’s fists clenched at his sides. “How much?”
Murphy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Two million. Dead or alive.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Siobhan’s fingers curled into the fabric of her robe. Two million. That kind of money would draw every mercenary, every desperate killer looking for an easy payday. It wasn’t just an escalation. It was a declaration.
Sebastian wasn’t just trying to reclaim her. He was making sure she wouldn’t survive if he couldn’t have her.
Daragh’s jaw tightened, his voice a lethal promise. “Tell Finn to gather the men.”
Murphy nodded once, disappearing down the hall. Siobhan’s breath came too fast, too shallow, her mind racing through every possible outcome.
Siobhan’s hands shook, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “They won’t stop, Daragh.”
His lips curled into something deadly. “Neither will I.”