Reborn (Alpha's Claim Book 3) (15 page)

Groaning, trying to roll away from whatever was shaking her awake, Claire found her body stiff and numb. Head swimming, it all started to come back. Thólos was going to be turned into a pile of corpses; the Red Consumption would be unleashed. A virus the man sitting at her side, the adoring mate holding her eyes, claimed could not be stopped.

“You have been sleeping for many hours, little one.” The purr came strong and sweet. “You must eat now.”

The last thing on the planet she wanted at that moment was food.

Claire opened her mouth to complain, only to have a spoonful of something pressed between her lips. Swallowing instinctively, still caught in the fog, she tried to focus on the one man who seemed to blur into two and make him listen.

Shepherd forced more food on her tongue.

“When you have finished, I will help you dress for the journey,” That raspy voice was commanding, almost stern, as if he were relaying orders to his Followers. “Then you will be sedated again.” A warm hand smoothed back the hair on her forehead. “And next time you wake up, we will be in our new home.”

“Please...” Claire barely had time to voice the entreaty before more soup was spooned into her mouth.

“It is important that you eat, or the anesthesia may make you ill. Swallow.”

He fought her when she seemed willing to be difficult, rubbing and pinching her throat just enough to earn an automatic response until the whole bowl of soup was gone.

When it was finished, her transformation began. There would be no more green dresses in Thólos. Instead Shepherd outfitted her in the clothing of his soldiers, tugging warm layers over limp appendages, lacing her feet into boots, everything dark concealing fabrics, while Claire lay there, dizzy, and half cognizant from the drugs.

Shepherd kept up a constant stream of what to expect, telling her of the team that would escort her to a waiting transport ship, all explained in a matter-of-fact tone as if she would care.

She didn’t.

Even under the influence of drugs, Claire tried to force her thoughts to muster. She tried to think of Thólos, but could only imagine the last things she’d seen in the causeways, dreamed up for the thousandth time the faceless dark-haired women whose bodies littered the streets, the dead frozen boy in the alley, all the Omegas who had gone missing, saw the faces of those who had been left in the city to die.

And what of Thólos, what was left now? The dregs? The worst possible offenders? Would they stand up and fight? Would they evaporate in a burst of blood and wash away everything that had happened here?

This place he was determined to take her, would Shepherd force the people of Greth Dome under the yoke of his
philosophy
? A mess was inevitable, all of it based on the horrible evil that had been done in her city. And if she was dragged away, no one would know of the people who had sacrificed and suffered... so many inspiring stories, stories of good men like Corday, would be lost.

The world needed to know that not everything under Thólos Dome had been dishonorable. Who would tell them?

Refusing to even think for a moment that he might win, Claire stopped all her black thoughts and fisted her hand in the fabric of his sleeve.

Shepherd took her fingers in his, watching her, waiting.

Whatever drug he had given her dulled her emotion, made her listless and rag-like, but she still had the power to accuse, “You gave me your word, Shepherd. On the ice you promised me.”

“You were trying to kill yourself, little one. I would have promised you anything,” he admitted freely, a hand closing around hers like an anchor, “anything, Claire. You cannot fault me for needing to protect my mate and child. I’d made a mistake, it needed to be rectified. You needed to recover your health and wellbeing in a situation where you no longer had to spend your thoughts on worry for those you count as your friends. You would have done the same had the roles been reversed.”

“Is that why you drugged me?”

The man nodded once, placing his huge palm on her belly. “You can be very reactive, and you are very upset. I cannot be with you every moment right now, and I cannot allow you to lash out and harm yourself.”

Claire felt warm tears seep from the corner of her eyes.

Suicide had been her plan, her only recourse against Shepherd: to punish him, to deny him who he would have as mate, to keep his child from him. Yet time had worked on her just as Shepherd must have intended. The baby was more than a blob of cells that made her constantly ill. It was a little moving sign of life... her son. And the man who had created him was at her side, tending her as if she were a dying woman.

But she wasn’t dying and she wasn’t going to kill herself. Shepherd was right; she could never harm her child. And so he’d won the war against her. And Claire knew, deep down, he had won weeks ago. That did not change the lingering fear something very bad would be exacted for his sins.

Claire’s voice broke. “You’re going to lose, Shepherd. I don’t know how, but I know you will. You are going to lose everything in this madness. All your good intentions, all your progress, will have been for nothing if you follow this evil agenda.”

“Now is not the time for arguments. When this is over, when we are established in our new home, grieve your friends if you will. In time, you will see I was right. We stand on the dawn of a new world. Do not be afraid of it, little one. You never have to be afraid again.”

She could hardly see straight, but she did try to fight when another syringe was produced and injected into her arm. Then there was no reason to fight, for the world was nothing but strange noisy dreams.

Out of breath, Corday burst into Brigadier Dane’s sleeping chamber, startling the woman awake. The man was wild, doing nothing to restrain his voice. “They know an attack is coming. They are probably listening to us even now.”

There was no time for nonsense, Dane furious the man would speak of resistance matters in a room they both suspected was bugged. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I had a visitor tonight. Shepherd’s second-in-command, the Beta, he was in my house.” Corday peeked through the blinds, looking for movement outside. “I’m sure he’s followed me.”

Shoving the covers from her body, Brigadier Dane rushed to dress. “And you led him here? Have you lost your mind?”

Using the meat of his hand, Corday wiped the sweat dotting his forehead into his hair. “You don’t understand. He told me where Shepherd is keeping Claire.”

She let out a groan, as if she could not believe the stupidity of the man standing before her. “You idiot!”

“Hear me out. Do you recall the name Svana?”

Dane’s brow grew tight with thought. It took her a minute to pin it, but she had heard that name. “Half a year ago you reported Svana was the name of Shepherd’s lover... the woman who attacked Claire.”

“Yes. Tonight Shepherd’s Follower offered Claire’s position in exchange for the location of this woman. He claimed she’d gone rogue, said she was looking to unseat Shepherd and take his power for her own.”

It sounded like a very scary parallel to a woman neither of them trusted. “Tell me you did not betray Leslie Kantor’s position.”

“I didn’t and I don’t have to. The man gave me Claire’s location anyway. Basement corridor 7, sub-room 3.”

Brigadier Dane shook her head. “He lied to you, Corday.”

“No.” Vehemently, Corday disagreed. “I don’t think he did. Look at it from a broader picture. They know the attack on the Citadel is imminent, he told me so himself. He also told me they understood there was no real way to completely stop it. They know you and I are key figures of the resistance, because they
have
been watching us all this time, but they don’t know where Svana is. She outmaneuvered them, manipulated us, and I don’t have to go where Leslie Kantor hides for Shepherd’s Follower to find her. I only have to show up on the front lines, her soldiers will take me straight to their leader.”

There was something massive Corday had missed. Brigadier Dane closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh. “If they know rebels are going to attack, the virus will not remain inside the Citadel. All the casualties and structural damage will be for nothing.”

Which is why Corday had run here. There was one, terrible option. “If we tell them what we know, we can minimize both of those factors.”

It wouldn’t work, and Dane was wise enough not to play right into their hands. “If they thought you had any relevant information, the Follower would have taken you. We know they are not above torture. More importantly, Leslie has been clever in compartmentalizing her forces; both of us lack details on the attack.”

“I know the intended detonation point of at least six of the bombs. We know the names and faces of the men and women chosen to wear them.”

After a moment of thought, Dane was solemn. “If you were to do this, to betray the rebellion,
no matter your reasons
, you are condoning Shepherd’s rule. As it stands now, the rebellion still has some power.”

“He said Svana,” Corday shook his head, clarifying, “I mean Leslie would learn that Shepherd had uncovered her plot within three hours. It took me thirty minutes to get here. In two and a half hours, something is going to happen. What?”

“I don’t know.” Dane looked miserable, as if she’d wished she’d never woken up. “No matter if she’s Leslie Kantor or Svana, don’t deviate from the plan. Even with Shepherd’s knowledge of the attack, this might be our only chance to free Thólos. Let her attack him...
then do your part
.”

Corday could not help but ask, “What of Claire?”

“If you swear to me you will do as you promised,” Brigadier Dane offered her life, on the miniscule potential Claire might actually be saved, “I will find a way to keep our bargain.”

“They will know you’re coming.”

Dane snorted a laugh. “Thanks to you, they know we’re all coming.”

Before the two might find comfort in their mutual agreement, the ground shook. It was a slow moving rumble, one that grew louder, almost deafening. It was not the distant boom of detonation that made such a racket, it was the following roar of bending metal and screams of falling glass.

Dane threw back the blinds, her view of the disaster sucking the breath from her lungs. “No!”

The Citadel had not been the source of the blast. Someone had detonated explosives right against the glass of the Dome. The East and West sky were caving in.

“It’s too soon...” The words were spoken with such disbelief that shock appeared on Shepherd’s face. “Svana has discovered we are prepping to launch.”

When the unexpected blast had torn girders and solar power collection plates from their moorings, Shepherd had watched from the Command Center, calculating as damage reports flooded in. There was no denying what they saw. Rebels had purposefully shattered two massive segments of the Dome’s protective glass. Shepherd, the Followers gathered in the room, stood there, while the northeast and southwest barrier wall crumbled. The city was turned into one giant wind tunnel.

Svana had altered the battlefield.

Turning to the Followers gathered behind him, Shepherd did not hesitate to counter her move. “Lock down the Citadel. Broadcast a fallback order and shut down communications and power to every segment of the Dome outside this building.”

Watching the monitors, an outside change in air pressure was already sucking out huge gusts of debris. A soldier diligent at his post warned, “Shepherd, with catastrophic failure of the Dome, the temperature in the city is rapidly dropping. If we divert power from the Dome’s heat generators, our men outside will freeze to death.”

Under incredulous brows, Shepherd’s eyes burned. “They won’t have time to freeze to death.”

The soldier didn’t understand, “Sir?”

“This was not like an attack against the Citadel, their
enemy
. This was an attack on the population. Panic will ensue... riots. Cutting their power will slow them down.”

Typing furiously across the Command Room’s console, another soldier interjected, “Sir, I cannot shut down the communications network. The fallback order has not been sent.”

“What is preventing it?”

Frustration was palpable in the man’s voice. “Someone has taken control of the system.”

A message began to roll across the screen:
People of Thólos, the rebel forces are in possession of the virus. Storm the Citadel, destroy our enemy.

There was a blended murmur of curses offered up once the soldier read the lie. It was brilliant and also painfully devious. Svana had openly just betrayed every last Follower who had sworn an oath to install her as queen of Greth Dome.

Shepherd didn’t have time to roar out his anger. Not now. “Get the first wave of transports ready to launch. Ship 7 must remain until Svana has been captured and stowed onboard. Have our men build a fire around it to keep it warm.”

A young man who had survived the torment of the Undercroft thanks to Shepherd, looked to his commander and acknowledged that he could not carry out the order. “They need another hour, sir.”

Shepherd impatiently detailed the outcome should they not get those ships in the air. “If the transport ships’ engines freeze, they will seize. Successful launch will be impossible. Svana is attempting to cut off our exit.” He had more orders to give. “Bridges linking the Citadel to the city must be destroyed. That will remove at least seven access points to our gates. That leaves only the promenade before the steps. We will funnel the citizens into that arena, and kill them before they can storm our walls.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will return in an hour.” Shepherd looked to his COMspecialist and barked, “By that time, I expect you’ll have regained control of the communications network and disrupted the rebel’s message.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shepherd looked to leadership gathered in the Control Center and said what they were all thinking. “We fight for our brothers now. If we can hold the rabble back for twelve hours, if we can keep the Citadel and the transport pad intact, they will live the life we’ve dreamed of.”

There was a cheer, a lack of desolation. Every man in that room was more than willing to die for his brother.

Shepherd left them to carry out their orders, the expression of detachment and ruthless focus he had maintained for his men falling away the instant he was running to his mate through the underground catacombs.

Jules had sworn to him he would do his duty and gather Svana. His men would lock down the Citadel and destroy as many access points as time would allow. Now all Shepherd could manage was one hour before he had to send his mate to a future where more and more it seemed he would be unable to follow.

All he could do was buy time.

It would not be enough... not for the seventy-two hours it would take before the third round of Followers might be rescued.

The groaning of their metal door did nothing to stir the beautiful woman sleeping in her nest, and for one minute Shepherd allowed himself to just look down at her, to pretend he would get to enjoy that vision every day as they grew old together.

Long black hair streamed over pillows in what Shepherd had learned was a shade called bird’s egg blue: her favorite color. She looked so peaceful in sleep, the fan of her lashes lowered to pale cheeks, her lips gently parted, and of course, her little hand resting over their son. At the upcoming moment of his death, that was the image he would carry to the grave.

Taking a seat on the bed, he pulled Claire to his lap and cradled her. He held her in the same manner in which she would cradle their child once Collin was born. Shepherd did not miss the parallel, tracing his favorite parts of her face and trying to memorize this last peaceful moment.

There was no other time in Shepherd’s life he could recall a handful of minutes as being so precious.

Time in the Undercroft had dragged by, moved at the grating pace of skin slowly scraped over broken glass. There were days it had been almost unbearable, and it drove many prisoners mad within a few years.

Since Svana had guided him from that hell, time had taken on a quality of almost moving too fast. There was never enough of it, always so much to do, hours that needed to be dedicated to training, to planning.

All of that had changed the instant he’d seen Claire.

Time affected him differently in her presence. One soft look from her felt like an eternity—one of joy not tedium. She had breathed life into him, restoring whatever the Undercroft had claimed before Shepherd had even been the wiser he’d been deprived.

In that moment, holding her as she slowly woke from his gentle prodding, an hour was not enough.

Regret was not a sensation he was accustomed to, but as he held her on his lap and called for her to wake, to open her eyes so he might see them one last time, he intensely regretted a great many things.

“Look at me, little one.” By the fourth or fifth time he called to her, her lashes parted and glassy green, his favorite shade of green, was there for him to smile at. “I need you to wake up just for a little while.”

Her pupils seemed to focus enough to express he had her attention as she fought the drugs and whispered his name. “Shepherd...”

“Little one,” Shepherd beckoned, “Listen closely. I have to send you away, and I cannot go with you now.” The man felt pressure building behind his eyes when the look of alarm widened hers. “There is a team prepared to escort you to your new home. I will do everything in my power to follow after you, if I can. In case I cannot, an Alpha, his name is Martin, was chosen by me to act as surrogate until our son is born. He is a good man. You will approve of him.”

“NO!”

“I am sorry.” Shepherd heard his voice crack for the first time in his life. His shoulders shook, breath difficult as her tried not to frighten the pleading woman.