Born to be Broken (Alpha's Claim Book 2) (9 page)

Shepherd gripped the table, the wood beginning to buckle.

Did Claire want to have sexual congress with that male?

"My friend was pair-bonded to a stranger, someone who mistreated her. Any kind of physical relationship is off the table for now."

And if it couldn't get worse, like magic, it did. Svana's reaction to Corday's words was authentic. Shepherd saw her face through the feed, the beauty of her exotic bone structure lost the mask of Leslie Kantor. Svana showed herself.
"Pair-bonded? That is unthinkable."

That disgust was genuine.

Outraged, Shepherd was forced to conclude Svana had believed he'd kept a female under lock and key in his quarters that was not his rightful possession. Rape was beneath him, as Svana well knew considering his mother's sad history, and Shepherd did not break his code, ever!

Vibrating with utter indignation, Shepherd felt energy build up, crest, years of anger threatening to seep out as a low endless howl of rage. Only one thing stopped the outburst, one phrase that carried him beyond explosion and straight into stagnant shock.

"The little I know is that the woman behaved like your run-of-the-mill sex offender."

Blood throbbed in his skull. Was that Claire's interpretation of Svana? Of him? She had called him a rapist once, and he had taken her when she was reluctant… but she was his bonded mate. Claire grew willing once she learned he took the time to pleasure her; the Omega relished their mating once she let herself enjoy it. Even the first time, he had not touched her without her consent. The one time he'd punished her physically, he had not hurt her. When she'd cried so pathetically afterward, he could not bring himself to do it again; even though it was his right as Alpha to correct her bad behavior and establish dominance. Never had it been rape. Her hesitation was due only to misunderstanding her position as an Omega, and her fear of her unfamiliar Alpha. After their time together, she had been coming around… he had painstakingly melted that ice.

He would not dishonor Claire, nor would Svana. His beloved had never touched Claire, he'd ensured it himself!

But he'd
found Svana choking the life out of his mate… the Omega pushed back on the bed, her lip split and bleeding.

A new feeling, a sort of churning sickness stole his breath. Perspective shifted. Svana
had
come into his room and attacked a pregnant Omega clearly under his protection… but she would not have sexually assaulted her. It was against everything they stood for.

But Claire had been very frightened; it's what drew you from the Citadel to rush to your mate.

No! Such a thing was impossible. His beloved would never degrade herself in such a way. Perhaps this was based off Svana's suggestion that Claire join them in intimacy—the very statement which had sharply commenced the decay of the bond. Shepherd had not missed a nuance of Claire's reaction to those words; had felt her repugnance, her disgust pulse through their link.

She'd looked on him like he was a monster.

Consumed with separating the opposing factors, far too determined to maintain the status quo, Shepherd had not regarded the exchange's baser intent. How had he not seen? Svana had preyed upon the Omega so flawlessly… spoken every word to shame and debase. Thinking of it now, Svana's verbiage seemed so very beneath her, so calculatingly terrible.

The more Shepherd considered, the more he hated: hated Jules for daring to do less than he was ordered. He hated the handsome Enforcer Corday who had the audacity to feel fondly for his Omega—a man who spoke as if he knew Claire intimately. Corday couldn't
know
her. A base Beta could never have the bond that exposed Claire's very soul and perfection to her Alpha mate.

Shepherd
knew
her. Every breath she took, the music of her hum, her purity, her light. That was his alone.

The hate expanded, and even for the briefest of seconds, he hated Svana for effectively taking Claire away. The fleeting feeling of something other than reverence for his beloved confused him. Mechanically, Shepherd looked to the only other person in the room, as if the man might have the answer.

All was written in the smaller man's flat expression. Not one word spoken had surprised Jules.

Placid despite the tempest inside, Shepherd rose. "Once the Enforcer is asleep, pull Svana. I desire a private meeting."

"Yes, sir."

Shepherd's eyes narrowed. "What? No unwarranted opinions?"

There was no hesitation or fear of imminent recourse. Jules spoke openly. "I only stated facts. I have not shared with you my opinion."

"By all means, Jules, SPEAK!"

The sharp edge of the man's dead stare displayed more than enough. "Choose an Alpha surrogate for Miss O'Donnell."

Rising from the chair, all the waves of provocation, the violence Shepherd had been restraining, flowed out in the simple phrase. "I would kill anyone who dared to touch her."

Jules rebutted, unflinching, "Not anyone."

The other Omegas probably thought she was insane, and maybe she was. At this point it didn't matter anymore. Claire knew her time was almost up, that the group was starting to chafe at her presence, that her behavior was a threat to them.

Claire understood exactly what was happening; that was the very reason why it was so important she hurry.

With the city's shops stripped clean of
valuables
, it wasn't hard to find the 'nonessentials' useful for her ploy. With Shepherd in power, COMscreens and networks were beyond Claire's reach but, like the book in her back pocket, paper had power.

A printed leaflet embossed with her image stared up at her; reproduced over and over again until no more paper could be found.

Nona had been brave enough to join her. To find the machines and make the copies… Through the madness, the old woman had not left her side, not once. Her friend had even helped as Claire created what would ruin her in the eyes of the world.

Senator Kantor had warned Claire of the consequences should anyone learn who she was to Shepherd—of the potential outcome should the resistance get their hands on her. The conversation had been burned into her memory, had carried her away again and again over the silent hours she walked the city.

There was no great hero to stand for what had once been Claire O'Donnell; even her own people found her useful only as a commodity.

So be it. If that was what she was to be, she would make them all eat it. She would sell herself, choose how to manipulate the product, before she was out of steam.

Claire was not a leader of men or a great orator. She was an Omega who enjoyed painting pictures for children, who once believed she had a future full of promise. Now she knew there would never be a loving mate or smiling children. Distorted and ruined, she was just a faceless statistic in a city full of nightmares and indifference. Well, not anymore. She had nothing left and nothing to hide. So Claire created the voice she'd lost, the last piece of resistance she could manage—something horrific from her weakness that could give others strength.

Nona had captured the brutality of the image perfectly:

Though the flyer was black and white, something about those large, enthralling eyes pierced brilliantly as the girl on the flyer stared forward. It was the profound expression of pain, the tracks of tears, the defiance, all balanced with the set of her mouth and the obvious cut in her lower lip. Claire stared out at the viewer over her shoulder, displaying the violence of her scabbed claiming mark—the grotesque thing still bruised like a rotting flower. Her chin was cocked high, her black hair pulled back so the damage to her throat was exposed. She was absolutely naked, the fullness of one breast round above thin ribs, the nipple just covered by the arm clasping her hair. The world would see her as she was; captivating and beautifully tragic.

It was her handwriting, the feminine script her final statement to Thólos:

I am Claire O'Donnell.

I am your mother, I am your sister, I am your daughter.

Look at me.

I am what you have done to yourselves.

I was pair-bonded to Shepherd against my will. I carry his child.

I fought back.

I fought back for you.

Each Thólosen who does nothing stands with evil. There are no excuses. Confront the abuse perpetrated on the streets, stand up to rape and violence.

Do not turn a blind eye again.

Do not make me stand alone.

Claire fled the warehouse as soon as the dark gave her cover, racing her own shadow like a wild thing. For a body that was strangely listless, she flew through the streets, sheaves of paper clasped to her breast.

It took all the dark hours of the night, multiple trips back and forth to gather more stacks of paper Nona handed off to her. The flyers were placed on the tops of buildings to blow in the icy wind like garbage through the streets, to continuously rain down on common areas where in only a few hours citizens would congregate.

Her portrait was like a virus, almost unnoticeable as it infected Shepherd's system, her image blowing about like leaves.

When her body gave out and her vision began to blur, Claire dropped the last armful of flyers from the highest causeway she could reach. Once it was done, she crawled like a wounded animal into the nearest building. In a dark corner she collapsed, oblivious of where she was, and uncaring.

It was simple enough for a man of Jules's skill to enter the apartment of the sleeping Enforcer. Svana was collected, and from the monitor in Shepherd's hand, it was clear that Jules's appearance had been somewhat surprising to her. When he crooked his finger, she swept from the room with her customary air of superiority, head held high like the royalty she was.

Shepherd kept her waiting, entering Corday's domicile, finding it typical, small, and full of the trappings of city life. The Beta was asleep on his bed, snoring just loud enough to make the continued assurance of his slumber simple, the Enforcer completely unaware that the very terror of Thólos slipped through the darkness like a demon to stand over him.

Claire's scent was rich in the room. Even, to Shepherd's extreme antagonism, rising from the bedsheets. Watching the handsome Beta, his lips parted in sleep, the predator awakened; the beast licked his chops, ready to tear out the throat of his prey. But the giant needed the naïve young Enforcer alive long enough that the fool might lead him to Claire. Once that mission was accomplished, he would personally tear Corday limb from limb, relishing each scream. Staring down at the Beta, Shepherd could already imagine the tactile pleasure… feel the warmth of blood running through his fingers.

Moving away before he could give in to the temptation to carry out such a punishment before its due time, Shepherd forced himself to ignore the other traces of Claire lingering on the bed; the long dark hairs on the pillow, and smears of her blood on the sheets.

In the bathroom, Shepherd found the dress she'd worn when Claire refused to eat, ripped and ruined, stained from wounds accumulated from a highly dangerous fall—a fall that could have easily killed her.

Shepherd did not know how long he stood in that dark cluttered space clutching that dress, wanting to rip at the fabric just as badly as he wanted to take it with him. But no sign of his visit could be left behind. Stuffing it back into the laundry container, he noticed the waste basket brimming with wrappings and white paper of used bandages, blood soaked cotton balls; all the signs that the Beta had tended her wounds.

It made him want to squeeze the man's neck until he felt his vertebrae pop apart.

The very air in the apartment was offensive.

Corday's smell had scented his female once before, it was clearly his sweaty clothing she had been wearing when the Omegas had turned her in. Worse was the odor of Svana's musk, picking apart Claire's sweetness in a gross reminder of what had been created in his den when all his weeks of dedicated exertion to draw out his Omega were spoiled by an action as rudimentary as sex.

Through his inspection his ire only grew, and Shepherd knew he had to leave before the stink of his outrage escaped his carefully buttoned coat and high collar. Vanishing like a phantom, he moved at last to confront his beloved, finding her unaware of his entrance into the dark apartment chosen for their private meeting.

Closing the door to face down the subject of his anger, Shepherd addressed her with a blank expression. "Greetings, Svana."

Svana purred over her shoulder, her voice full of the richness of their shared history. "Must I remind you, Shepherd, that you do not summon me and leave me waiting."

Ignoring the lack of subtlety in the reprimand, Shepherd stepped closer. "How very beautiful you are this evening."

She smiled, her lips curving up like a cat lapping milk. "Am I not beautiful every evening?"

The warmth of his hand came to her shoulder. "Enforcer Corday is a fortunate acquisition. Exactly when did you infiltrate the resistance?"

"My love?" Svana's hands were already slipping up to cup his neck, to press to the small amount of warm exposed flesh so that nothing might be between them. "Are you not pleased at how easily they trust me? I can control them… mislead them."

The feel of her body under Shepherd's palms was familiar. "Nothing but ourselves could stand in the way of our success."

At once the soft, luring quality of Svana's blue eyes went sharp and narrow. "It is unlike you to make such a reference, especially towards myself."

Shepherd hissed. "Your undiscussed appearance amidst the resistance was unsanctioned."

At once, Svana moved out of the comfort of his touch. "I am not a child to be corrected, Shepherd. Remember to whom you are speaking."

Watching Svana in the dark, the shine of moonlight over the perfection of her face, did not bring him peace. Instead he found himself growing aggravated that there had still been no outright mention of Claire. Did she think he didn't know? That she would keep knowledge from him, purposefully, again… that she would presume not to admit her doings… it did not sit well in his gut. "Equivocation does not suit you. Let us speak plainly on the subject and be done with it."

The way she stood, with the city backlighting her silhouette, the silken tone of her voice, all of it was to allure. "Can it be that you are displeased with me?"

His large hands came to the lapels of his heavy coat, gripping tightly as he spoke. "The Followers overheard every word of your conversation with Corday, and nothing relevant towards our mission was even pursued. What is it you seek to accomplish in this game? You risk exposing your identity and purpose to chase the scent of my mate."

"Mate," she spat the word, revolted. "When I had originally heard of your toy, I figured it was some passing fancy to fill the hours you could not spend with me. Finding her pregnant was staggering enough, but I can hardly believe what that fool downstairs described. You
pair-bonded
with something so beneath you!"

"You have had many lovers to satisfy your body. I chose to have only one. I could not rightfully keep Claire without bonding. Accepting her as my mate keeps her in my power and in line with the Gods' plan." Sucking in an angry breath, Shepherd took a step nearer. "Furthermore, you should take care where you would point that finger.
You
attempted to produce an heir with Premier Callas!"

It was a rare thing for Svana to display surprise, but it crept into the corners of her expression.

Shepherd did not wait for her to speak. "Did you really believe I was unaware of your attempted conception? I smelled the effect of the drugs on your body. It did not go unnoticed by my Followers, either."

"It was necessary, Shepherd," she argued at once, fisting her hands in his shirt. "His genes house a treasure that cannot be lost—immunities, resistance to disease. Why should it have been wasted? What better revenge than to have Premier Callas's child one day leading our people?"

Shepherd reached out to run his fingers through Svana's hair, watching the brown slip right through his touch. "You would have preferred to carry the offspring of the man responsible for the corruption of Thólos. He threw my mother into the Undercroft. I would never raise a child of that monster as my own. What crawled out of you would never rule."

Svana's face twisted into one of disgust. "So you seeded a weakling out of spite? I feel both honored and disappointed that you would act out so from petty jealousy, my love."

His own great anger fell back behind an alarmingly placid expression. "Was it not your explanation that our love transcended the physical? My desire for a corporeal mate should mean nothing to you."

The woman circled Shepherd in the dark, calculating her next move. Something seemed to register and Svana's eyes grew warmly seductive; she licked her lower lip. "It is not too late should you wish to breed me. Think of the greatness of our combined power. The necessary drugs could be found and we could begin at once."

"Even as glorious as you are, the chances of an Alpha female conceiving with Alpha male sperm are very slim—carrying to term even more so." Placing his great hands on her shoulders, Shepherd outlined what was unchangeable. "Claire will bear my offspring and serve as my mate, and you will rule at my side once Thólos is in ruins and my army has delivered Greth Dome from those who usurped your family's claim to the throne."