Born to be Broken (Alpha's Claim Book 2) (5 page)

"We have profiles and photographs of all known surviving Omegas. The odds that one will be seen are exponentially higher with so many. They will be found."

"The situation with Claire takes precedence over retrieving the Omegas. Her escape route was divergent. She must be moving through Thólos as we speak. Assign our best trackers, and when she is found, no one approaches but me."

Jules knew the female had been serious about ending her life; it had been the only reason he'd not disarmed the quaking woman at first glance. "Cornering her would not end well. Her mental state is unbalanced. Miss O'Donnell is a danger to herself until her desperation recedes."

Shepherd cut a dangerous glare at his lieutenant. "What is your point?"

Intense blue eyes sat static in a face devoid of emotion. "Your appearance turned her fear to rage; her finger tightened on the trigger. I had a measure of rapport with her; you did not."

The slight flare of Shepherd's nostrils, the intake of breath, was nothing compared to the growl that stained his reply. "Her entire plan hinged on distracting us with the ploy. She did not pull the trigger, she ran."

Jules did not baulk. "Her success will give her confidence, and may lead her to expose herself to needless danger in order to fulfill her agenda. Shall I create a situation she'd want to resolve? We could draw her out on our terms. Miss O'Donnell could potentially be captured before any more trauma accumulated."

Shepherd momentarily considered the suggestion before he shook his head in the negative. "She is too clever for that."

"Where do you think she'll strike next?"

"I do not think she will strike at all. Not one of her bombs killed a Follower; she could have executed all our comrades trapped inside. Casualties were kept to a minimum. As far as we know, she never fired the pistol or pointed it at anyone but herself. No matter the show she put on, Claire O'Donnell is a pacifist. Her ideal would be to inspire, just like she threatened."

"If she exposes herself to the public, they will bring her in," the Beta assured.

"Her faith in the scum of this city is far more dangerous to her than any gun. If they knew of our bond, the people of Thólos would not deliver her home. They would rip her to shreds."

Curled together like kittens in Maryanne's bed, Claire slept with one hand over her belly and a troubled frown on her brow. Maryanne watched her fitful sleep, certain again that she'd lost her mind for going back to drag the obstinate fool away.

After witnessing the showdown with Shepherd, watching as the hulking killer spoke as softly as he could even though he was clearly furious, Maryanne couldn't wrap her head around it. When she'd been forced to work for him, she had seen him at his most ferocious, and it was nothing compared to the cautious demeanor he displayed to his mate.

The man was fucking terrifying. But just for a moment there, Maryanne had seen it. He'd been desperate.

Pair-bonds were strange things, a condition Maryanne had purposely chosen to avoid until the day she died. Who would want to give up their freedom and be tied to another person forever? The very idea was repulsive. Sex was sex—and Maryanne loved sex—but the urge to forge a tie, to bind oneself… no thank you!

As an Alpha female, options of whom you could fuck ranged far and wide, and fear of getting knocked up was basically non-existent. The only way to ovulate required the use of hormone injections or a male Omega in heat to inspire such an event. Maryanne didn't have a thing for scrawny guys, which was good, since the likelihood of finding a male Omega was pretty dismal. It was Beta boys she preferred, though a girl now and then had been fun, too.

Being born an Alpha had been a boon. She was stronger, aggressive, quick, and able to move through society in a position people like Claire coveted. The small thing in her arms had always resented her dynamic, even when they were little. Maryanne couldn't blame her. Once Claire's scent began to fill the room with sweetness instead of just little kid stink, the world started treating her like she was made out of glass. That was half the reason Maryanne had dragged her into more… interesting pursuits.

Childhood shenanigans had been good for Claire.

Or were, until Claire began to hide what she was under the practiced mask of a Beta—the pills, special soap. It was sad to see someone try so hard to be something else.

Considering the alternative of being bonded in a heated stupor with no real protection if the Alpha went against the Omega's wishes, it was understandable.

After all, look what had happened to Claire's mom—the paragon of the downside. It was no surprise Claire had never embraced her true nature. Looking at her now, Maryanne wondered if the dark-haired woman even knew the absolute finality of her bond with Shepherd, and the lengths to which he would go to recapture his mate.

Or he would just kill her… he probably would kill her after tonight, at least.

Grinning stupidly, Maryanne thought back on Claire's taunts and the burning vehemence practically rising like flames from the giant. Maryanne would have paid good money to watch that show. If she wasn't so anxious that Shepherd was going to rip the wall off the side of her den and come to fetch back his very unbalanced mate, she would have probably laughed at how perfectly Claire had owned him. She'd got her prisoners out, she'd stood alone against the Followers, she'd even threatened to kill herself and probably would have… simply to give the Omegas more time to follow through with the second half of the plan.

But Claire had always been a stubborn, sentimental fool.

A little fool that was clinging to her in sleep with a face so full of misery, Maryanne almost didn't recognize her. Claire was ten kinds of messed up. It was more than the scrapes and bruises, or the gross state of her feet; it was something in her makeup. The Omega female stood like a marionette missing a few strings—not at all the spirited girl she had been when they were kids. A small part of Maryanne wanted to ask what had happened. The larger, more reasonable part, was determined to wash her hands of this trouble as soon as possible. Whatever was going on between Claire and Shepherd, whatever had caused Claire to provoke a man of his size and deadliness, Maryanne did not want to get dragged into it.

Defiled, manipulated, betrayed, and broken…

Well, that happened to everyone. Apparently it was just Claire's turn. Threading her fingers into the tousled, sooty hair, Maryanne began to comb out the knots.

Claire pressed nearer, a whimper catching in her throat. "
Shepherd…
"

And that was the final reason Maryanne would not be able to keep her. Everything went back to that pair-bond. Claire might be fighting it, might be fueled by rage and pain, but eventually she would waver and crack. It was inevitable, a tie of souls or some such nonsense. So long as she was running wild, Shepherd would hunt her, be fixated on a rampage, and Maryanne was not going to get trampled when nothing would change the outcome. She didn't owe Claire a damn thing; in fact, the way it looked now,
Claire owed her
.

Maryanne closed her eyes and cursed Shepherd to hell.

When she woke, there was no need to make a complicated decision regarding her lodger; Claire had made it for her. The little black-haired Omega was gone.

It was strange to walk through Thólos.

Claire may as well have been walking through the apocalypse. Everything she saw was far worse than the nightmare where the rabid pack was chasing her through the streets. Nothing seemed alive; no stores were open, no restaurants offered food. Buildings stood in shambles, broken glass and debris scattered about. Even bodies were left in the streets to freeze.

As her stroll continued, the warmth of Maryanne's bed leached away as if Claire had never known the comfort. She wandered, confused… wishing she could unsee all of it. In less than a year the city had become a wasteland, another world that poisoned all it touched with frost, ice, and loss.

Shepherd's plan had been a success. Thólos was destroying itself, and all the man had to do was sit back and watch.

A whoosh of breath left her lungs and Claire stopped walking. Hunched against the wall was a dead child—blue, frozen—a little boy no older than nine.

Kneeling over the stiff corpse, Claire reached out and brushed back his matted hair, wondering how Shepherd could think this child's death would satisfy his plan. What great lesson would society learn by a lost life no soul would remember?

Slumping to the kid's side, mimicking the body's posture, Claire tried to find a reason for any of it. Tragedy in Thólos was nothing new; since the occupation, orphan children died all the time.

More children were orphaned every day.

This was the new norm.

And who took them in? Where were they to go?

The people failed. Claire was not even sure if she could justify it anymore, not after seeing this. Leaning her head to the side she rested her cheek on the dead boy's hair and stared forward. There was no pleasure in her freedom or her view of the sky… there had not even been a sense of victory at her success freeing the Omegas.

Even in Maryanne's company she had only played the part, falsified emotion on instinct.

Closing her eyes, she let out a breath, ruffling the stiff brown hair under her lips. There was no point in being Claire anymore; instead she would be nothing, as hollow as Thólos had allowed itself to become.

It was the sound of a sob that woke her, and for a moment she thought it was from the boy she slept against. Waking abruptly, her bleary eyes darted around and found nothing—just the same empty alley and the same piles of icy garbage. The only difference from before was the darkness, a thing her eyes adjusted to quickly after so long underground.

Oblivious to the freezing cold, Claire stood, ignoring the crack of stiff knees. Her pillow, the forgotten corpse, sat as rigid as before, the child staring forward into the same future as hers… into nothing.

Claire claimed him, and with more strength than she felt, she hoisted the boy up on her back, the corpse's limbs not easy to manage.

Not a soul disturbed her as she walked with her macabre prize through the streets of hell.

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.

Svana had not been born in Thólos Dome. Instead, she'd been
gifted
to the people of Thólos…

None of this was public knowledge, of course. Very few knew Svana had arrived on a transport two decades ago as part of an Interdome trade of viable females. Even less knew who that child in rags really was. Her adopted parents didn't know; and from Jules's investigation, even Premier Callas was not privy to such information.
The secret belonged to Shepherd and to the chosen Followers of the man sworn to lead them to freedom.

Svana was cunning on her own; she used her position to develop access to everything… secrets, money, favors—even lovesick teenaged Shepherd.

It was a fancy she'd grown out of. Shepherd, on the other hand, had been entirely unaware of the fact that his beloved had moved on. She knew what she was doing, feeding his regard for her, nurturing his devotion. It seemed pathetic, had you not seen what the two of them could accomplish together.

That Jules hated. She was necessary for the plan. Shepherd, all the Followers,
needed
her.

But she also needed them. Without Shepherd's army there was no way the woman could reclaim her birthright. Svana was the only surviving offspring of Greth Dome's ruling family; a monarchy that had been deposed and disposed of. Insurgents had killed her parents, and had foolishly thought to extend mercy to a little girl considered too young to remember.

Svana may have been small when her life under Thólos began, but she had been coached to corrupt from birth. But, just like her parents, she believed herself beyond reproach.

The affair with Premier Callas… Whether the Alpha admitted it or not, Shepherd had been forced to face a glimpse of what she truly was.

In response, Shepherd had acted against his beloved; he took an Omega mate. A fact, Jules had known Svana would not be pleased about once discovered. Was this not the very reason Shepherd had kept the Omega obsessively hidden? Not a soul was allowed near her, and even Jules had been cast out for only looking once… until recently.

The Beta did not know what had spurred Shepherd to take quarters away from his room for days; he didn't ask. He had instead been stuck dealing with an irate ruler who possessed far less patience, and a pregnant Omega who looked heartbroken each time he brought her another of the blasted trays.