Chapter 75

Chapter 75
“Seamus!” Her voice was frantic, raw, as she dropped to her knees beside him, her hands immediately pressing against the wound. Blood seeped between her fingers, hot and endless. Too much.
His world narrowed to her face—wild eyes, frantic breaths, desperation etched into every trembling movement.
“Don’t you dare,” she choked out, pressing harder. “You don’t get to die on me.”
Seamus wanted to speak, wanted to tell her something, anything, but his body was heavy, the darkness creeping in fast. His fingers twitched against hers, smearing his own blood over her skin.
Kiernan was still standing, still a threat, but Mika wasn’t moving away. She wasn’t leaving him.
And Seamus knew one thing with absolute certainty.
If he died here, she wouldn’t make it out either.
Seamus was slipping.
The cold was creeping in fast, numbing his limbs, making each breath shallower than the last. Blood soaked his clothes, pooling beneath him in a slow, inevitable death. His body refused to move, no matter how much he willed it. This was it. The end.
Then, suddenly—Mika.
Her hands cradled his face, her warmth the only thing tethering him to the world. Her breath came fast, shaking, her skin damp with sweat and smeared with his blood. He could barely make out her face through his darkening vision, but she was there, her voice breaking, fierce and desperate.
"Seamus, stay with me. Please, stay with me."
He wanted to. For the first time in his entire goddamn life, he wanted to hold on.
She pressed her forehead to his, her lips brushing against his cheek, his jaw, whispering against his skin. "You can't leave me. I won't let you."
The pain faded, drowned out by the sound of her voice.
Mika’s fingers clenched around his. "You have no idea how much you mean to me. How much I—” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I love you, Seamus. I love you so much it terrifies me. You are the only thing in this world that has ever been mine."
He wanted to respond, to tell her he knew, that he felt it, that he had always felt it. But the words wouldn’t come. His lips barely moved, his breath too weak.
Mika let out a strangled sound, half sob, half laugh. “You stupid, stubborn man. I should hate you for everything you’ve done. For taking me, for ruining me. But I don’t.” Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips pressing desperately against his temple. “You own me, Seamus. And I will not let you die here."
A shadow loomed behind her.
Kiernan.
His fingers closed around her wrist, yanking her back. “Enough,” he muttered. “He’s done. Time to go.”
Mika didn’t even flinch.
She let him pull her to her feet, her breathing evening out, her expression going blank. Too blank.
Then, slowly, deliberately, she reached into her pocket.
Kiernan’s grip tightened. “What the hell are you doing?”
Mika turned to face him, her movements eerily calm. When she lifted her hand, the small, black detonator sat in her palm. Her thumb hovered over the switch.
“You have ten seconds,” she said, her voice like ice.
Kiernan’s entire body went still. Then his eyes darted around the bunker, landing on the blinking red light in the far corner—the C4, already primed.
Panic flared in his gaze.
He shoved her away and bolted. Boots pounding against the floor, his breath coming sharp and ragged as he ran for the exit.
Mika didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
She turned back to Seamus, kneeling beside him, brushing damp, blood-matted hair from his forehead. “I love you,” she whispered one last time, pressing her lips to his.
Then she pressed the button.
The world erupted in fire.
Kiernan barely made it out.
The explosion roared behind him, a violent inferno that swallowed the bunker whole. The force of it sent him sprawling forward, gravel scraping against his palms as he landed hard on the dirt road. The heat chased after him, searing his back, the blast wave rattling in his chest like an earthquake inside his ribs.
For a long moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just lay there, staring at the ground, the scent of fire, smoke, and burning flesh thick in the air.
Then, slowly, he pushed himself up.
The bunker was gone. What had once been cold concrete and steel was now a collapsing ruin of flame and debris. The fire consumed everything, black smoke billowing into the night sky like a funeral pyre.
Kiernan stood there, watching it burn, his expression unreadable. His breathing was uneven, his hands still curled into fists. There was no satisfaction in his eyes, no triumph. Just something dark. Something almost...hollow.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, and turned away.
His car was parked a few yards down the road, untouched by the blast. He pulled the door open and slid inside, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He sat there for a moment, unmoving, the distant crackling of the fire the only sound.
Then, finally, he started the engine.
As he pulled away, the bunker remained in his rearview mirror, a smoldering ruin, fading into the distance.
And for the first time in a long, long time, something twisted deep in his gut. Something that felt an awful lot like regret.