Born to be Broken (Alpha's Claim Book 2) (17 page)

Looking down at the remaining melted mess on her plate, Claire took a deep breath and breathed it out. "Thank you."

The tray was scooted aside before a large hand came to her face and turned it up. His thumb rubbed away a missed smear of chocolate, Shepherd very pleased. "You are welcome."

She did not want to look into those impossible eyes, but he held her in thrall. Claire was lost as she measured how many deaths stuck to him, how many appalling things he'd done of which she hoped never to learn. Why did he have to have a tragic history that haunted her sleep, and how had he become so distorted he'd developed into the harbinger of Thólos's apocalypse?

Why was she even thinking of all that shit?

Shepherd gave her time, taking in her confused expression as she confessed, "I dreamed of your Undercroft, and I was trapped with the prisoners reaching for me through the bars… while I was being raped like you said."

Elbow resting on the table, he cupped her cheek and purred, "It was only a dream. You are safe here and will never endure the Undercroft."

She sniffed, lost in the quicksilver changefulness of those damn eyes. "What's it like?"

Unsure exactly how much he should disclose, Shepherd said, "Dark, cold. The prisoners eat the mold on the walls; there is no sewage system. In the tunnels it is easy to get lost… many go missing. As a child, an inmate told me those tunnels span the entire continent of Antarctica. They go on for ages; you walk and walk, and never find a way out. But you do find the bones of others who've gone mad searching the paths only to die from lack of water or starvation."

"I dislike that I feel pity," Claire breathed, eyes full of sorrow, "for you."

The way he watched her, the slow move of his analyzing gaze, it was if he already knew everything she confessed. "Little one, it is merely an indication of your nature to feel compassion—even for me."

Her brows lowered, that little line forming between them. "Is this where you call me a coward or a fool?"

Shepherd smirked. "You are somewhat foolish, but you are not a coward—simply naïve. What you are is innocent."

But that was not true. Disappointed in his answer, she rose from her chair, hands tugging the straps of her dress so the fabric could whisper down her body. Eager to finish the final requirement to leave the room, she moved, naked and expressionless, to stand before the Alpha.

He took in the secret places of her body, but did not touch.

Voice harsh, Claire felt the guilt, the anger, the fear eat her up. "What do you see now?"

Slowly, Shepherd met her indignant expression, softly purring, "My mate."

The thrum was deep in her chest, something it took a great deal of focus to recall was unwelcome. Confused, she watched him, unsure why he wasn't touching her. Unsure why they were not already on the bed, or table, or floor?

The moment was growing into something it was not meant to be.

Just as she was about to turn, to just walk away from him, the growl was made. It was loud, expectant, and brought with it a small pleasurable cramp as her body instinctively responded.

Slick came thick and copious at such a call, dripping down her leg. Shepherd watched the little trickle, captivated.

Rising slowly, he pulled his clothing over his head, stripping down to only flesh until he stood before her in an equal state. He was beautiful and grand; all the glorious epitome of Alpha physique in the control of a man who used such strength ruthlessly. Claire had to crane her neck to look up, to keep her eyes off his marked body where she could focus on his face and those hated eyes.

"What do you see when you look at me, little one?"

A monster, the man who had ruined her life, the little boy raised in hell whose mother had performed unspeakable acts just to secure him a knife, a former prisoner who had dedicated his love to Svana, a man with twisted faith, the male who had betrayed their pair-bond and caused her great pain, her jailor, the father of the life growing inside her, a creature she could not trust… Claire drew a deep breath and said the only thing she could. "I see the Alpha pair-bonded to me."

"Can you not see more?" Shepherd hinted, trying to draw out the proper words.

Her reply twisted in the thread and tore out her heart, but Claire stood still, her face a mask, and spoke the hated truth, "I see my mate."

"You are doing exceptionally well today," the Alpha claimed, but still he did not move.

And Claire understood. Shepherd wanted her to initiate sex, he was pushing her boundaries, seeing how much she was willing to exchange for what she wanted.

She let out in a low whisper. "I can't."

"You can." Shepherd was confident, nodding for her to try.

Already half-high, drugged in scent and the call, Claire knew in truth she wanted it. She wanted him to fuck her so hard that she forgot herself, that
Claire
disappeared. It had been her only respite since their deal had been struck; her only succor the distraction of sex. In a sick way she almost longed for a heat cycle, a mindless source of existence that shut off her thinking until all that mattered was physical gratification. But she could not allow herself such a thing if Shepherd didn't force it or take it; it would make the act of mating something she could not bear.

Clenching her fists, she glanced to the side and shook her head belligerently. "I. Can't."

Another of those powerful growls, so loud it was almost a roar, and her pussy clenched, more of that damn slick spilling down her leg.

Shepherd persisted. "You can."

She knew how very easy it could be, how falsely fulfilling his arms would feel—the decadence of fornicating with such a creature, to hear his whispered words at her ear… the culmination of the moment when her world burst apart and everything bad was forgotten. Had she not felt it a hundred times? But Shepherd had to inflict it, if she took that fateful step and admitted that she desired such a thing, it would ruin her.

Crumbling, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his chest, doing nothing more than pulling in deep breaths of what nature told her was hers, but what experience had taught her was far from the case. Lightly her fingertips came to his torso, running upward, delicately tracing over his nipples in their journey to reach around his neck.

Claire froze. She could not sell herself for the sky or oblivion.

"What more do you want from me, Shepherd?" Frustrated, desperate, she whined, "Just fuck me already!"

She felt him bend to reach her ear, knew the press of scarred lips. "I want everything."

The massive male tugged her towards the bed. Claire was spun about and pressed down on her belly, her legs left dangling towards the floor. A hand raked almost too hard down her spine, the pulsing head of his cock positioned at her folds. He did not press in. Instead, Shepherd slapped her; his palm met the full roundness of her ass and left it red and stinging as she cried out in surprise. His hips surged, and in the midst of her yelp he speared her with the entirety of his girth.

"You are so fucking wet, yet still dare to pretend that you don't want this? That you need to be forced?" he roared, gripping her hips even as she presented, arching her back in instinctual invitation. Roughly, he pulled her back to meet each thrust, Claire mewling into the covers, falling into the drugged delirium where she could fade away and forget.

The second her mind grew free of petty feeling and thought, Shepherd took his cock away, flipping her over.

Blazing silver eyes met hers. "Do you want me to continue to fuck you?"

Her eyes glued to the shining, throbbing thickness that he should be burying inside her again and again and again, she snarled, "Yes!"

The man stood there, panting, eyes blazing, with her slick all over his groin… and simply did nothing.

Claire pounded her fist against the mattress and looked up with furious, half-dilated eyes. There was a snarl, her own version of the growl, and she launched herself at him to take back the only thing she had left to ease the pain. The sound of her demand inspired the man manipulating the situation to his liking. Shepherd took her in his arms, plunging his cock slow and deep where she ached, and watched Claire's silent pleas for more.

Kept just at the border of the insensibility she craved, like he knew her game, Shepherd moved with decided cunning in the dissection of her avoidance of what they were and why he mated her—forcing Claire to recognize who offered her carnal satisfaction, what he felt like against her, and how much she loved it.

Without the frenzy there was no void, there was no loss of self. Claire knew in her bones that he was knowingly denying her the only escape she had left by making love when she only wanted to fuck.

Shepherd smiled like a man standing in the bliss of heaven, whispered to her so she had to recognize his voice, and controlled every thrust no matter how she squirmed or rocked her hips. There was no escaping him or the pleasure.

Her mind grasped the irony with each tender stroke that the one thing she'd fought to preserve when Shepherd first took her had been her sense of self… until he broke her. Now all she wanted, now that her world was so dark, was to forget that identity and waste away.

"Faster," she breathed on a lengthy moan.

There was such pleasure in his voice, Shepherd gently rocking his hips to fill her cunt in slow measure. "No, little one."

It went on for hours, until she was shuddering and cooing small sounds of pleasure. This was how it had been in those first weeks, but the underlying distress was different. She was no longer afraid of what he could do to her; she was far more afraid of her mutilated sense of self and what she very much wanted from him.

A warm hand stroked from hip to breast, over and over, leaving a trail of soft tingles and ending with a little squeeze of her tight nipple until she whimpered for more and spread wider in invitation.

"Open your eyes."

How many times had he already commanded her to do so? Why did he have to make her look? Complying, her green eyes met beautiful silver. She saw her palm cradle his cheek, she saw him kiss the tip of her thumb.

A catch of breath and a long shuddering sigh came from the Omega. "I can't… I need…"

The purr built from deep within Shepherd's chest, the Alpha observing each minute reaction of pleasure on her face. "Soften, little one. Let it happen this way. There is no more need to fight what we are."

He wove his fingers into hers, his sweat slicked muscles moving over her entire body. Each time he had her stuffed full, he'd grind his groin in a tight circle to tease at her clit, drawing sounds from the Omega that made his balls tighten.

Shepherd's name came to her lips when she felt that first fluttering of the hours long building climax, a name she never wanted to call out in passion again.

There was not even a hint of a veiling fog in her mind when she felt tears leak from her eyes and her cunt squeezed like a fist around his swelling knot. Claire orgasmed completely, powerfully aware of Shepherd, her insides vigorously milking his cock, drawing out every last drop of his come as the man groaned in his own ecstasy.

Boneless, vibrating from the humming thread, Claire didn't know what to do. The feeling of his cheek slipped past her palm, the Omega wilting against the mattress.

"That was perfect." He kissed her slack lips, nuzzled her cheek. "You, Claire, are superior to any sky."

Her contentment shattered. With a growl guttural and vicious, Claire threatened the man still deeply knotted. "Do not
ever
call me that name!"

The knot was fresh, the male's cock still filling her with a steady trickle of semen, his fingers still warmly enfolded with hers. Yet whatever tenderness the Omega had displayed as he led her down the path to orgasm had evaporated. Her small body was stiff, Claire's hips moving just enough to communicate her desire to reject his knot, even if trapped by it.

If Shepherd was angry, he hid it well. Looking at her with deceptive calm he spoke her name again. "Claire."

Her building rage blended with disgust, yet she mirrored his move on the board. In a tone so calm it was chilling, she explained, "Every time I hear you speak that name, I feel your Alpha
beloved's
hand crushing my throat. I feel her fingers scratching my insides. I see you, a monster who has the audacity to call himself my mate, stand by and watch. I hear you order me into the bathroom saying
Claire
… a name you refused to acknowledge up until that enlightening moment."

Shepherd had to make use of this opportunity; he had to reason with her. "I did not witness her touching you sexually and only learned of it later. It will
never
happen again."

Incredulous, Claire's eyes went wide at his nerve. "And that makes it okay?"

The man tried again. "I am aware you harbor great anger towards me, hatred even, for what was done."

"I do hate you. I hate her. But most of all I hate myself."

Rocking his hips, pressing the knot deeper, he insisted, "Tell me the reason you hate yourself."

She held his eyes, hers violently raging. "We both know why."

But it needed to be said aloud. "Claire, your self-hatred stems from the fact that you recognized you had affection for me before circumstances caused you pain."

"Circumstances?" Claire laughed meanly, not at all impressed. "She has a name. It's Svana. What you did to me has a name. It's called betrayal."

Odd remorse burning in his consternation, Shepherd pressed his forehead to hers. "You have my fidelity now. I gave you my word. We could be content in one another if you would forget, and try again."

Claire saturated her reply with every ounce of disgust she could muster. "You are a very smart man with the skill to inspire others to follow you into evil, Shepherd, but your understanding of people is so primordial. You claim to love me, so answer this: had I fucked Corday while you were watching me in the warehouse, would it be something you would ever forget?"

The man's entire body went rigid. "No."

"So you see, it is impossible."

His eyes were full of a hundred things. "You will forgive me."

Her black brow arched. "Forgive what you can only call the
circumstances
that caused me pain?"

He knew what she wanted. Growling like a beast, Shepherd gave it. "I mated with Svana and dishonored you."

"You did."

"I did it to save your life."

Claire arched beneath him, wanting to get away. "You are lying."

His hands squeezed her fingers so hard it hurt. "I did it because I could not harm her; she is my only family… Because I was concerned she would take you from me. I gave her the attention she came for to distract her, so you would not be considered a threat." Almost frantically he admitted, "The whole time, I was thinking of you."

"That is disgusting."

Shepherd did not know how to answer such a thing, so he chose silence. While the knot persisted, he held her unwilling hands, he purred and nuzzled, but Claire had lost all traces of softness… In fact, she only looked sad.

When at last his knot diminished enough for him to pull out, he did. "Get dressed." Shepherd stood with grace a man of his size did not deserve. "I will take you to see your sky now."

Claire had lost interest in going outside; she wanted nothing but sleep. "You don't need to waste the effort. I no longer want to see it."

Shepherd gripped her arm and pulled her to stand when she began to roll over. "You will put on a dress at once."

After cleaning up the expected river of semen that came from her womb, Claire grabbed her dress from the floor and pulled it over her head. The giant clothed himself and returned to her, holding out a blanket, waiting for her so that he could wrap her shoulders with it in place of a coat. There were still no shoes.

"Give me your hand," he grunted.

Claire complied and his massive paw closed over her small wrist, leaving cold metal and a grating sound of cuffs being fitted. The opposite end he fixed to his own wrist, Shepherd warning, "You will behave."

"I don't take forty-three lives lightly."

He lifted her into his arms. "Your recent effort has not gone unnoticed."

Once she was settled against his chest, they left the room.

Shepherd took her down an alternate path that ended at a service elevator stinking of his men. The door closed, the contraption jerked, and the long ride began.

He was taking her to the upper levels, a region she had only ever visited once a year as a girl. Or at least that's what she thought. When the door opened, a decadently decorated hall appeared. The walls were well-appointed, clean, and filled with soft crystal lights. There were no windows, and when Shepherd began to approach a sinister looking door, Claire began to think the male had tricked her.

He was going to punish her again.

He tapped a code into the door's console, the hiss of decompression letting them know it had unlocked. Shouldering it open, Shepherd took her inside. The vault closed, bolted, its click exceedingly final.

He set her down. Claire's feet were touching plush carpet that looked like it was out of an old-world picture book. There was golden wallpaper, paneling made from actual wood.

Mostly, there was glowing light.

Eager to reach the window, she stepped forward only to find her arm still chained to the man behind her. Claire was confused. "This is not outside."

Shepherd escorted her forward, his torso warm on her back. "I never agreed to allow you outside. I believe the arrangement was that I would allow for you to see your sky."

Technically he was right, and Claire knew there was absolutely no point in arguing.

The prospect the small room afforded was unlike anything she'd seen in a house; a vast display of rugged tundra. The window was an actual part of the Dome; if she touched the glass, she would be touching the only thing between her and hundreds of miles of snow—a thing forbidden.

Reaching forward, ignoring the uncomfortable handcuff and arm that followed to allow her movement, Claire put her hand to the glass and felt its chill. Wild nature was her view, in a warm room, where she was chained to an Alpha to ensure good behavior.

The room's furnishings had been removed, leaving only that beautiful rug and a single large chair. It was angled at the window, filled with a man who drew Claire into his lap. With the lights on, Shepherd's looming presence at her back was reflected in the glass, his attention acute.

Meeting his stare in the reflection, Claire admitted, "Men have been put to death for touching the Dome."

Shepherd answered, "Or they are thrown in the Undercroft for daring to look outside."

Why would they look, there was nothing but snow outside. Yet Claire found herself taken with the view, all that white, of distant mountains and jutting ice. The land beyond the Dome was glorious.

Shepherd's body was warm, the purr soft and continuous; the perfect recipe for her to ignore him, relax, and just saturate herself in something other than four concrete walls.

The man did not ruin her comfort by speaking or making demands, and Claire was grateful for it. He was deep in thought, staring at the setting sun, his Omega held hostage on his lap.

The dark came, bright moonlight on glittering snow, and Claire fell into a dreamless slumber—the first she'd had in many weeks.

The whole night passed before intruding light set the backs of her eyelids glowing red. She woke comfortable with only beauty before her. It was almost as if Thólos did not exist. She could sit there and pretend; she could forget the man cuddling her was evil through and through.

But the truth could not be ignored. Though she was warm and safe, her people were waking up with nothing to eat, with no power, with no heat. Outside of that beautiful room, behind that grand view, the world was falling to pieces.

Shepherd stretched, his large hand cupped over the place where his child grew. "You enjoy this room and the view; you are comfortable here."

Looking away from the window, she surveyed the empty room. "Why did you have the furniture removed?"

"I did not want you to wrongly cultivate hope that I might allow you to remain."

There was logic to his rationale. Had there been a bed and other objects for comfort, she would have longed for more than just his lap on that oversized chair. She may have even grown upset when he'd demanded that they leave. "I see…"

"As I promised, I will bring you here." He took a breath of her hair, kissed a trail down her neck. "And as you promised, you will live as my willing mate."

When they came back from her sky, Shepherd set her hand free. The handcuff had not been tight, but once he removed it she felt an ache in its wake. He took her wrist and used his big thumbs to rub the skin, as if he understood the feeling and why she had cradled the offended limb in her hand.

Claire watched his caress, finding it peculiar that with paws that could crush her, Shepherd seemed to know just how much pressure was appropriate. As the odd touching continued, she worried her lip and found him once again watching her carefully. When the silence stretched and his big thumb continued to rub, she grew nervous.

Unwilling to act without specific orders, unwilling to be tricked or manipulated, she thought to withdraw her hand.

Shepherd trapped her wrist in circling fingers that seemed far more binding than the handcuff had been. "How will you fill your hours while I am gone today?"

"Are you mocking me?"

"What did you do with your free time before I claimed you as my mate?"

That was easy to answer. "I spent every waking hour trying to find food for the Omegas."

The giant smirked, using his grip on her wrist to pull her nearer. "Before Thólos became mine."

"Thólos is not yours."

The bastard smiled at her. "Answer me, little one."

With a huff, she began to list off activities. "Aside from painting, I played my mom's old piano. I spent time with my friends… read stories, took cooking classes when I could afford to."

Her response satisfied the man. Shepherd released her arm, the drag of his callused hands against her fingers extended.

Claire used the opportunity to put distance between them, heading towards the bathroom, a place where he generally left her in peace.

When she emerged from her shower, she found Shepherd had brought her tray of breakfast. Scrunching up her face at the offering, she made a noise that displayed her reluctance to eat it. Apparently the junk food of her last meal was off the menu. In its place was some kind of green fluid that smelled heavily of bitter ginger. She drank it, hating it, and then sat in stupefaction when after twenty minutes, nothing seemed eager to come back up.

The Alpha seemed pleased, then he left.

Alone, Claire chewed her lip and found again that the painting of Shepherd was watching her. It was still there, left out in such an obvious position, still waiting for someone to do something with it. Wiping her hands, she reached for it, aware that even in the hours she had been free of him, his face still plagued her.

It struck her then that the Alpha had hardly left her side in her waking hours, or even physically left her touch in days. Whatever had happened between her arrival and the night spent in slumber on his lap must have left him content that she was established back in his power completely.

He was right.

Claire would remain a slave—for Corday, for Nona, the Omegas… for Maryanne. She would do as he wished to give them all a chance, and she would continue to engage, stomach the bond, and play the good captive as she looked for a way to help Thólos by the singularity of her situation.