Born to be Broken (Alpha's Claim #2)(38)

Corday still had faith in her.

Making sure not to look at him too long, Claire set the COMscreen down and remained still as Maryanne snipped.

When the cut was over, dark hair tousled, Maryanne assured in a playfully thick accent, "Very beautiful."

Handing her a pocket mirror, she frowned when Claire pressed it back, stating, "I don't need to see."

Maryanne shoved it back. "It's not bad, Claire. Take a look."

"I'm sure you did fine."

Maryanne knew what was going on, could see through the cracks in her old friend's mask.

Holding the mirror up, making a point, she snarled once the Omega turned her head away. "What is wrong with you?"

Moving the mirror to Claire's new line of sight produced the same outcome. Claire looked away. Enough was enough. Maryanne grabbed a fistful of hair and held Claire's head still, forcing the mirror before the Omega's face. "Open your eyes and look in the mirror, Claire!"

She did. Claire looked at a hated face, one with full lips that had been painted to be pretty and black hair that had been cut to frame her face. A face with green eyes and pale skin; a face she had been unable to look at for the last week without seeing dead women who looked like her. Women she had killed.

With a voice that could no long bear inflection, Claire said, "You're right. The lipstick is trampy."

"You don't need to do this to yourself, you idiot." Maryanne gave Claire's hair a little yank. "There is nothing wrong with that woman in the mirror. Their deaths are not your fault."

"Step away from her, Ms. Cauley. Go stand near the door and do not move." There was nothing but the threat of murder in Shepherd's voice, every word enunciated with chilling precision.

Maryanne darted back, the behemoth stalking forward. Watching with awe, the Alpha female saw the mountain kneel to his mate. His purr was aggressive, his hands already petting an Omega who seemed composed and patient, but was anything but.




 

 

"She didn't do anything wrong," Claire explained. "Everything is fine."

Shepherd spoke in that other language, loud enough that the Followers on the other side began to unlock the door. In a flash, Maryanne was gone. Once the door was bolted, Shepherd pulled Claire to stand and drew her to the room's luxurious bathroom.

A large mirror hung over the fine sink, and with a flick of the lights there they were, standing side by side, framed in filigreed gold.

"Your skills at deception are abysmal," Shepherd explained, gesturing at her reflection. "So let's not waste time, shall we? Why are you only looking at me in the mirror and not at yourself?"

Humiliated that she had allowed this situation, that she had not performed better, Claire looked straight at her reflection. "My stomach was upset."

"You are lying," the male roared, hating the strange feeling that was coming through the cord. "What is wrong?"

There were no tears, only a blank stare. "I just can't look at them."

A great hand lifted as if to grip her skull. Instead Shepherd clawed through her hair, the nearest thing to a pet an angry Alpha could manage. "Continue."

In the mirror Claire was dwarfed next to the massive man, small and useless. "I am angry that I cannot do anything for anyone, that everything I tried only made things worse. I feel powerless, ashamed of myself for my failure and the horrible effect I had on women who look like me." Beseeching eyes darted to his reflection. "And I'm frustrated that no matter what I say to you, to a man I am pair-bonded to, that it would change nothing-even if I had the power to redeem you-because Thólos did horrible things when the people could have rallied and brought you down."

"The price you are exacting from yourself is not yours to pay. It is Thólos's."

She was getting angry. "I am Thólos, Shepherd. Born and raised here. I grew up here. My parents are buried here."

"Look at yourself in the mirror, Claire O'Donnell." The male reared up as he spoke. "You are an Omega, physically small and weak, yet incredibly intelligent. That said, however shrewd you may be, you are also foolish enough to think you must bear the burden of others' sins …  That is your true flaw. The psychological trauma you are causing yourself is both immature and pointless. It does nothing to change the scenario. And though I am honored you would consider the thought of my redemption as worthy, it is your own peace you need to focus on now. Self-pity and playing the martyr help no one."

The woman gave a caustic snort. "Well, I failed at playing the hero."

In a voice that was hard and assertive, Shepherd snarled, "But you didn't, and you know it. Forty-three people are alive because you had the nerve to stand up to me. You won, Claire. No single adversary has ever beaten me before. Ever. Take your victory." 

It was not that simple, not when the world and her mind were in a constant state of turmoil. Not when she was only breathing to buy time.

In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. - Sun Tzu

Rubbing her lips together, she felt the unfamiliar slide of lipstick and met Shepherd's eyes again. "The lipstick is trampy."

"And your hair?"

"Looks nice."

"And the dress?"

"Is something I would never have chosen for myself in a thousand years. I look like the poster girl for a pre-plague Omega housewife-which I suppose is fitting, as I am barefoot and pregnant."

"Are you attempting comedy?" For once the man actually sounded unsure.

Claire smirked and shook her head in the negative.



For days she wasted paper while the Alpha stared, watching her paint her promised portrait for him. Claire was beginning to suspect that Shepherd was trying to drive her crazy with the constant appraisal of her work. But there was a method to his madness, even Claire understood that. He was forcing her to look at herself over and over, until it was no longer quite so nausea inspiring, until it was her face on the paper and not some unknown woman Claire had conjured up.

A deep breath, the type that preceded some grand speech the bastard was going to make, passed Shepherd's lips. Claire's eyes shot up, blazing warning as she snarled, "I swear to the Gods, Shepherd, if you say one thing about this painting, I am going to scream."

Undaunted, he cocked an eyebrow and stated, "I want you to paint yourself smiling more."

Pounding her fist on the table, biting back the rising noise in her throat, Claire let out a stream of obscenities so vulgar the man began to laugh. Paint-stained hands balled up the picture, Claire throwing it right in his face. Then it was her turn to laugh at the absolute look of murder in his eyes.

Popping her lips, grinning impishly, she reached for another piece of paper and ignored the swelling, angry male. Innocently, she dipped the brush and began the outline again, painting the same smug grin she was wearing at that moment. When the basic form was drawn, she arrogantly held it up, and watched him narrow his eyes and appraise.

Before he could speak, a knock came to the door and a man whose voice Claire didn't recognize spouted off something in their language. Shepherd's attention focused on what he was hearing, the Alpha already standing as he replied in kind.

Shepherd immediately began pulling on his armor.

A strange anxiety twisted in her stomach, this situation not having arisen before. Watching him dress for battle at a summons and not simply because he was leaving for the day, meant something was going on-something that could be dangerous to him, to Thólos, to anyone.

"You do not need to be concerned, little one." There was a smile in his voice.

When Claire's eyes darted up to meet his, she found him collected and calm. But she felt incredibly uneasy, all humor from only a few moments ago evaporating. "What's going on?"

The purr began. Shepherd pulled on his coat and came to where she sat, alarmed and stiff. Stroking the line of her jaw, he explained, "There is nothing. I simply lost the hour playing your game with the paints."

He was lying; the man always knew what time it was without the presence of a clock. "I don't believe you."

Ignoring her accusation, he cracked his neck and looked down at his worried mate. "I will be back shortly, and when I return, I expect to receive the remaining portion of our agreement."

She fought to maintain an impassive expression while Shepherd traced her lips with his thumb and leveled upon her a liquid gaze brimming with lust and ravenous expectation. He dipped his thumb between her lips, growled richly as if he was about to fuck her, and left her sitting in a little pool of slick.




 

 

Dazed, Claire stared at the closing door. She knew what he was calling due, what he had left sitting between them for weeks-in order to fulfill their bargain, Claire was expected to initiate sex.

Unsure whether he had chosen that moment as a means to distract her from her worry, or if it was some sort of victory celebration for whatever he was doing, she shifted uncomfortably at being left in such a state.

It was not as if she'd forgotten what she'd offered for Lilian and the others to be laid to rest, but she'd had other far more pressing things to center her thoughts upon. Besides, physical intimacy with Shepherd had taken place countless times. She knew what he liked, where to touch him to draw out a reaction …  so how hard could it be to initiate it?