Chapter 4
Corday looked over the newly freed Omegas, silently observing as they assembled a living space from piles of garbage.
The mid-level Incineration Plant no longer created compost for the farm levels—not since citizens had taken to dumping their garbage in the streets.
Now rotting mounds of muck protected an enclave of frightened women.
Every breath stank of putrid food, mold, and things better left undescribed.
One thing it did not smell like was the young Omega still writhing through estrous, the girl moaning and begging for relief.
Corday was admittedly not an expert on Omega heat cycles, but whatever had been done to her, her sobbing response could not have been normal.
He kept his distance. The other Omegas also gave her a respectful berth, the group huddled together for warmth, gnawing on the rations he had provided.
An old woman, Nona, had come knocking on his door. It was Claire, she said, who’d directed her to find him. It was Claire who’d promised the resistance would feed and supply the freed Omegas.
It was the name Claire that made him come running.
He’d taken supplies without the permission of his commander. Brigadier Dane was going to kill him, and he was going to tell her straight to her face to go fuck herself. He was not going to let Claire down.
When he’d arrived the previous night, the Omegas had been… hostile. They were filthy, reeking just as badly as the garbage heap they’d chosen to shelter in.
Nona had warned him the women were dangerous, that they were armed and might shoot any male on sight. She had even warned him not to follow her back once she’d procured supplies.
Corday was having none of it. He needed to see Claire.
But Claire was not there. Even hours after the women had settled in, their liberator failed to show her face. The night dragged on, morning came, afternoon, Corday stiff from leaning against a slimy wall.
Had Claire been captured? Had the tyrant killed her?
Nona gently told him that Claire’s plan required her to arrive from a different path; that the woman most likely was waiting for dark before she moved; that she had always been overly cautious when away from the safety of the group.
Corday scoffed. The Claire he knew was reckless. She was also badly hurt.
Over and over, Nona reminded him that if Claire had been taken, Shepherd’s men would have already come for them.
Claire O’Donnell was out there.
And so he waited past the point of exhaustion, exasperation, and flat out fear.
Evening fell. At first Corday thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
A two-headed hunchbacked beast staggered down the plant’s dark garbage chute.
Milky eyes stared right through him; they never blinked—just as the mouth beneath those dead eyes gaped in a fixed expression of hopelessness.
It was the face of a corpse.
Hidden beneath it sat a much dearer countenance, the struggling woman’s eyes half-covered by a curtain of black tangles.
“Claire!”
Corday rushed towards the Omega and her burden, unraveling the frozen limbs of a cadaver unwilling to release its host.
Claire did not seem happy to see him. In fact, she didn’t seem herself at all. “I found that boy alone in an alley, Corday… forgotten.”
Once the dead child lay safely upon the ground, Corday pulled her against his chest. Warmth of his cheek against hers, stubble scratching, he breathed, “Nona came for me. I know what you did.”
After the atrocities Claire had seen in the city, the attack on the Undercroft… facing Shepherd, seemed to have happened in another life. “The city’s become a horrible place. I saw things… What’s happening to us?”
Existential talk on the human condition could happen later. Tugging her towards the Omegas’ fire, Corday urged, “You’re freezing, Claire. Sit.”
Nona ran over at first sight of her friend, the older woman throwing herself around her. “Your mother would be proud. You know that, my girl?”
Claire didn’t want accolades, she just wanted to collapse.
There was no shyness. Corday ignored the watching women and tugged Claire down to rest between his thighs. Arms and legs wrapped around the girl’s shivering frame, he put his chest to her back and purred.
The Omegas were openly confused by the state of their hero. Where was the confident deliverer who’d faced down an army? Why was she letting a Beta male hold her in an intimate embrace?
Why wasn’t she speaking?
Nona smoothed the hair off Claire’s forehead, watched her young friend close her eyes, and waited until Claire’s breath became steady in sleep. Only then did she sniff.
Cautious not to wake her friend, Nona mouthed the words, “She smells pregnant.”
Corday nodded and whispered, “She is.”
It should not have been possible—not when Claire’s last cycle had come the day she’d entered the Citadel.
Pressing her thin-lipped mouth in a frown, Nona’s heart broke. “Shepherd has done this to Claire. This is….”
Corday cut her off. “I know,” he tightened his hold, “but she won’t be alone.”
Nona’s severity lessened, she even smiled at the boy. “You care for her.”
Corday did. “Swear to me you won’t let her leave when I’m gone. Swear you will keep her safe.”
The inevitable was unstoppable. “She is pregnant and pair-bonded, Corday. Even if you tend her constantly, she won’t be able to stay for long.”
Looking Nona dead in the eye, Corday chewed out each word. “Shepherd damaged the pair-bond. It has no bearing now.”
Older and wiser, Nona spoke as gently as she could. “That is not possible… what he damaged was Claire.”
“So you’ll just let her wander back to Shepherd?” Corday would be damned first.
“You are not an Omega. You can’t possibly understand the finality of a pair-bond.” Nona began to smooth Claire’s hair, looking at her friend with pity. “The only way for Claire to be free, is with Shepherd’s death or hers. I guarantee she knows that, no matter what she may say.”
“But…” Corday chose denial. “Claire told me…”
Her friend had always had misplaced altruism. “She would want you to have faith.” In a hushed voice, Nona confessed, “I know better than to give you false hope. But know this, so long as she is pregnant, she is precious to Shepherd. That makes her safe.”
Corday pulled down the scarf around Claire’s neck. Nasty bruises sat on display. “Would you call this something treated as precious?”
Nona took in the marks, tears gathering in her eyes. Words were difficult. “It’s more than just the pair-bond. Everyone here knows she is mated to Shepherd. They will not trust her. They will drive her off.”
Corday glared at the collection of women stealing glances in their direction. “Claire saved their lives.”
“Listen to me, boy,” Nona urged, fervently whispering. “That does not mean every Omega in this room deserved it. It would only take one to bring us all down again.”
Had the Omegas not learned? “The women who turned her in last time were hanged by Shepherd. I watched their executions myself.”
“You and I both know that fear makes people do very stupid things.”
“Then she comes home with me.”
Nona, her face full of compassion, agreed, “That might be best.”
Looking down at the sleeping woman in his arms, Corday felt shaken… because he knew what was wrong with his scheme. “But she won’t stay unless I lock her in.”
Nona nodded. “I think you’re beginning to understand. Keep purring. It will calm you both.”
Puzzle pieces were his specialty. Jules understood the finite operation that motivated people, he was second only to Shepherd in that particular skill.
He was also the only other person who’d had any access to Claire over the last few months.
He knew what she smelled like, even pregnant.
He knew her voice and had pegged her at once for a brooder.
She was almost sweet in her misguided agenda, and Jules grasped exactly what had drawn Shepherd so strongly. Claire was an enigma, all wrapped up in a little moral bow.
Claire was everything Shepherd falsely believed Svana to be.
His commander had never lived amongst Dome civilization, not like Jules had before he’d been imprisoned.
Shepherd’s rearing underground—surviving the extreme of Undercroft society—had wired the man to thrive in acute circumstances.
No matter how preternaturally brilliant Shepherd was, his lack of empathy in dealing with conventional people was obvious.
Yet he was an amazing leader, drew men to his standard, could see the world in a way others could not.
He’d freed the outcasts… even before the breach.
One man had driven back the nightmare underground. Shepherd had organized a feral population, given slaves purpose, hope. Yet, like all prisoners, if Shepherd wanted something, he took it, and God help you if you disappointed him.
Shepherd remained incapable of understanding Claire’s hesitations.
Even for all the Alpha’s aggression, there was no one in the world Jules admired more. His respect even withstood the flaw in his superior—Shepherd’s universe began and ended with Svana.
The fact the two Alphas were lovers was no secret.
Even Jules had witnessed Svana’s enthusiasm for Shepherd for years.
He knew the story of how she had drawn him underground, approached Shepherd as if she were an angel with her passcodes and rare food.
At the time they’d both been young. Perhaps they had seduced one another—two miscreant wild things enslaved by the system.
But where Shepherd had been born in hell, Svana had come from heaven.
He practically worshiped at her feet. He had made himself the mission for her, built her an army.
She claimed to be special, chosen…
Worst of all, it was true. All of it.
She owned something no amount of money could buy: a valuable bloodline.
Svana was the key to freedom, to a new world, to a land where no one would look down on them for Da’rin—where no one would hiss the word ‘outcast.’ With her help, all of them would be heroes, redeemers, saviors.
They would all be reborn.