Chapter 10
Claire was still sleeping, restless under the covers on the bed beside him.
It had taken a great deal of effort to get her comfortable after Shepherd had found her holed up in the bathroom vomiting upon his return.
Hours of soft touches, bland broth, and her agitated growls eventually turned to snores.
Once Claire had finally lost consciousness the thread seemed to harmonize, leaving Shepherd able to work as he lay at her side.
Reports on Enforcer Corday’s movements were less than pleasing. Svana was still holed up in his apartment, and irksome Maryanne Cauley had come calling, looking for Claire.
Neither woman’s agenda was clear. Svana was toying with the resistance, for what purpose Shepherd was uncertain, but she was up to something.
In the years of their relationship, there had been no secrets, no dividing line between them. Ordering Jules to continue with her constant surveillance had been… difficult. Studying her motives as he’d studied the Senators, their families, their work, for years, troubled Shepherd greatly.
This woman was not that same revolutionary he’d loved with every last fiber of his being. Worse, not knowing where she’d stashed the contagion, having had all the usual places searched, made him uneasy.
She wanted to remind Shepherd that she had the power. Knowing he was watching her flit around the Beta’s apartment was her less than subtle way of reminding him she was in control.
She played her games with the resistance. Leslie Kantor wanted them to find her valuable, even passing fragmented information that could potentially undermine Shepherd’s control.
Svana was taunting him.
Why?
There was more to this than her anger over Claire.
So far just Maryanne Cauley had thrown the only wrench into her plans.
…when he shot down your marriage proposal.
How did a woman like Maryanne possess information even Shepherd had never heard whispers of? Why did Svana just about reach out and break the blonde’s neck?
Most importantly, why hadn’t Svana noticed the immediate look of suspicion the Beta Enforcer had shot her way once those words were out in the open?
Challenging was not the right word to describe the feelings embedded in the problem. Deeply, Shepherd wanted to trust Svana as he always had. But the little black-haired Omega curled up at his side… one look at her, and Shepherd was at a loss.
Never would he trust Svana anywhere near Claire. That fact gave him pain.
And that, at its essence, was why Svana remained with the Enforcer. She knew Shepherd’s abiding loyalty had been shaken, and she taunted him by fostering a new champion, lightly touching the Beta at every turn, keeping herself beautiful and engaging.
Was she trying to seduce Corday, to flaunt her conquest?
Never before in his life had Shepherd struggled with so many questions. Answers had always been obvious, his course steadfast.
Now he knew he had to greatly alter the plan. He had to find the contagion and make sure it was beyond Svana’s control. Stripped of her greatest advantage, he could reason with his beloved, maybe find her an Omega male so she, too, could be enlightened.
Their partnership, their rich history, need not be tarnished by his natural devotion to such a pleasing mate.
Reassured, Shepherd read the latest update again. There was something in the transcript that was intriguing. Just as Claire had explained, the once disposable minion, Maryanne Cauley, was fond of his mate.
In Shepherd’s experience, Maryanne Cauley was very easy to control, a creature inundated in self-preservation.
Shepherd could use her again, augment Jules’ initial plan to win more than just Claire’s complacence.
She could be a valuable tool, and the selfish Alpha female would even be willing for the right price.
As Shepherd’s plot developed, Claire grew restless in her dreams. Absently, Shepherd began purring, lightly tracing the furrow between the Omega’s brows until it softened.
Before all could be made right, there was a list of issues that had to be remedied.
The Omega was not showing any of signs of the affection she had displayed before their recent…
complication. In her waking hours, there were no activities of nesting, not like before.
Normal habits of a pregnant Omega must be encouraged, but she no longer touched her belly like she should—never acknowledged the child he’d placed in her womb, even though it was the cause of her almost constant nausea.
Only in her sleep would her hand rest above the baby, and even then she looked… troubled.
Claire also was incredibly disinterested in being touched, yet if he initiated, highly responsive to sex.
They were at square one.
Shepherd kept her in a constant state of the mating high, took her so many times her eyes remained half-dilated, almost as if in the first stages of estrous.
It was necessary to keep her mending, to keep the bond fresh and unchallenged, and it soothed her.
But she no longer whispered or called out his name, seemed half involved but eager for pleasure.
Pure escapism…
When the sleeping woman quieted, Shepherd went back to the latest reports.
With only eight weeks before transport would carry those who’d chosen loyalty to his cause to seize Greth Dome, his new life was soon to begin.
Svana’s lineage and title would place her as the savior queen of what all intel confirmed was a highly repressed population.
Transition would be relatively seamless.
Of course, there would be turmoil and battles in those first weeks as the usurper regime was decimated, but Shepherd had a worthy supply of Followers to raise his standard, and the Greth government had no indication a nightmare would soon be crashing down upon them.
Best of all, as Shepherd thrived, as he gave Claire the things that would bring her happiness, nothing but corpses and rot would be left in a place he hated with all his heart.
Everyone left in Thólos would succumb to plague.
Toying with a strand of Claire’s hair, Shepherd grinned—vindicated, in perfect alignment with the universe, until he heard her call out.
It had been only a little noise in the dark, a voice laced with fear… a call for him to help her.
Mechanically he moved, swift to gather her close. “I am here, little one.”
Shepherd could see she was not quite awake when, instead of tensing up at his touch, she gripped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer, urging him to surround her in his heat and strength.
Swallowing, trying to catch her breath, Claire tried not to think of the sound of screaming convicts and lingering echoed flashes of men lining up to hurt her in her dream.
It had been another horrible nightmare of the Undercroft Shepherd had described from his childhood; a prison that gave birth to monsters, inhabited by demons even Maryanne had once warned still lurked down below.
Brushing the hair from her face, Shepherd encouraged her to calm. “You are allowing your brooding to affect your dreams.”
Claire released her grip on the nightmare-inducing monster at once. “I’m fine.”
“You would not call out for your mate if something had not frightened you.”
Shepherd rolled them, holding her to his chest so Claire might rest atop him as she had slept before the complications of the last few weeks. In that position his vibrations would pass far more noticeably into her, and the hatred in her eyes would go back to the faraway stare of complacence.
“What time is it?”
Shepherd did not let her budge, but answered the question. “A little after 16:00.”
God, she was so tired even after all that sleep. Too tired to protest the thick arms that came to embrace and stroke, feeling guilt she was experiencing comfort from such a thing, she complained, “I hate the hours down here… everything is backwards.”
“If you had slept during the evening instead of fighting the rest you require, then you would have settled into regular rhythms.”
Claire gave an annoyed groan at his pointless lecture.
It was his fault she could not sleep, his fault her mind was unstable, his fault she’d had the nightmare, his fault she could feel again and that everything felt horrible.
Unsure if she spoke simply to annoy him, or to test him, or because it was what she actually needed, Claire muttered against the fabric of his shirt, “I want to go outside.”
The purring stopped.
A moment of time hung between them, the air tangible with mutual dissatisfaction. Trilling her fingers on his chest, she made it clear she was waiting for an answer and that there was only one right one.
Everything about his reply was displeased and growled with great annoyance. “You will eat and bathe first. After we have mated… I will escort you to see your sky.”
How fucking romantic.
In the mood to continue being difficult, Claire said, “I want to eat fried potatoes with mayonnaise.”
He threaded his fingers in her hair. “No.”
“And a chocolate shake.”
“No.” Shepherd stroked her spine in an attempt to urge her to fall back asleep and forget her expectation of the sky.
“Raspberries, lots of raspberries.”
“That you may have.”
Aware he was trying to make her melt until she forgot her request, and conscious Shepherd was about to achieve his goal, Claire began to wriggle away, stretching like a cat and cracking her spine.
He made her work for her escape. Even with his arm just lying across her, the damn thing weighed a ton, and he seemed far more interested in groping her ass than letting her up.
In the end, she bit him and slipped out of reach.
Shepherd found it funny.