Claire stood, she railed at the Beta. "Necessary? Explain it to me, then! Explain yourself to the woman your master has ruined because he didn't know how to handle his hurt feelings!"
"Discuss it with Shepherd." Face blank, Jules left, locking her back in her cage.
Discuss what part with Shepherd? The part about how she was superfluous and he just had not figured it out yet, or the dead babies part? Lying back on her space of concrete, Claire stared at the ceiling and felt like she was drowning in all the fucked up mess of things, the twisted histories, and the pathetic chain that was forged by a man with the emotional intelligence of an adolescent.
She would talk to him all right; she would make him look straight at what a hypocrite he was. She would show Shepherd what she'd discovered, the truth of what he was doing through her eyes … not his distorted vision. The Gods had even directed her to the signpost of what a sad joke everything seemed to be. That boy. That curled up child she had rested on, the corpse with no name and nothing in his pockets. He would be her mascot, and Shepherd would have to look at him and answer to her.
Claire mixed her paints and began to recreate that lonely moment in the alley. There were hours to spend on the work, hours wherein she detailed the brick, the cold, the withered child, and herself … fast asleep against the cadaver's stiffness.
She had never painted herself before, used the memory of her black hair on her cheek to mask most of her face, but it was her. The same curled up slender form, the bone structure that screamed Omega, all in the clothes she'd stolen from Maryanne.
Mindless tears were falling on the painting as she worked, mixing the colors as her hand moved in a frenzy. Shepherd was sitting across from her, she blithely recognized the fact that he had arrived, but ignored him in her fervor to remember her boy perfectly-to not miss a detail of the grotesqueness of his withered face and milky, shriveled eyes. It was not until the hand holding the brush started to shake that he reached forward and stilled her. The brush was taken from her fingers, the painting turned so Shepherd could see. With his hand encasing hers, he viewed what had eaten up the hours of her day.
His rich voice stated fact. "This is you."
Stuck in the artist's haze, that blurry moment where one knows they are creating something monstrous but still mentally indistinct, she muttered, "I was tired and alone. I had been wandering Thólos for hours because I needed to see what had happened, what had been taken when you locked me in this room. I found this boy who'd died alone and sat at his side, feeling as dead as he was … I couldn't go any further so I leaned against him and fell asleep."
Shepherd tightened his grip on her hand, growling, "You could have frozen to death."
Claire nodded. "As that child did. That boy died with no one to care for him … alone and frightened in a trash strewn alley."
The hand on hers suddenly withdrew. The behemoth stood from the chair and moved something new into her line of sight. "You did not eat your lunch."
Claire looked at the cold plate of fish and knew better than to argue. Reaching for the fork, she started to push trout past her lips. After shoveling down half the meal without tasting what was probably a divine recipe, she looked at the looming Alpha. "I carried that boy's corpse on my back all the way to Lower Reaches … So I could bury him with the Omegas. So he would not have to be alone."
Shepherd sighed, fisted his hands at his sides. "You are upset over the child you carried back to the others."
With an open expression, Claire admitted, "I am confused as to how you went from a boy dedicated to a mother who loved you no matter the circumstances, to a terrorist who is the cause of the death of thousands of innocent children in Thólos. Why did you change? What justified this, Shepherd?"
He pulled her to stand, and moved them both towards the bed. "You are tired and I suspect you did not nap as your body requires. We will lie down."
Her words were not slung in cruelty, but curiosity. "Do you not have an answer? No long-winded explanation of legends and greatness to make up for the death of that nameless boy?"
He took her dress, put her in the bed, and followed as soon as his own clothing was shed. Pulling Claire above him, to the place she could feel the purr the strongest, a place that was minorly dominant for the Omega, Shepherd arranged her for sleep. "There is no answer I could give that you would find satisfactory."
But that in itself was an answer.
When her eyes were falling closed and the purr was moving her to stillness, the male shared his frustration. "Did you never wonder that I may have kept you segregated so that you would not have to be exposed to what is taking place outside these walls?"
Half asleep, Claire hummed. "I am a grown woman, pregnant with your son … a baby no different than that little boy who died because of what you inspired here."
Fingers rubbed her scalp and he reminded her, "A baby you almost murdered by attempting suicide. A baby you no longer nest for or touch."
Putting her chin to his chest, knowing the words were true, she did not balk. "After what I witnessed and learned of your nature … the things she said you've done … did you never wonder that I would rather kill myself and the unborn child than allow the likes of you and Svana to ruin him as you ruined one another?"
Shepherd's chest swelled, and it was clear from his expression that the man was incredibly pissed off. Rolling her onto her back, looming over her, his large hand closed over her lower belly. "I am not at all happy with your current mindset or accusations."
Placing her hand atop his, Claire held his angry gaze and asked, "Do you suppose you are some paragon worthy of this child? You fucked Svana-"
His anger was growing dangerous. "I was trying to keep you safe."
"Stop lying to yourself. Have you ever told her no, or do you do anything she wants just to please her? You enable her … and she thinks of herself as beyond reproach … because you worship her. I saw it myself! And for that perversion, she crafted you into what you are. A thing she owns; her unquestioning disciple."
The villain roared right in her face. "Svana loves me!"
Claire was on some sort of high, past caring for the consequences of her words. "The same way you claim you love me … the kind of love that justifies infidelity and cruelty."
The pain did not register, not at first, and considering the size of the Alpha it could have been a thousand times worse. The grip he had on her arm, the way he bent it back to remove it from his body, Claire ignored, reaching for his shoulder again, wanting him to hurt her.
The room moved, and a great crushing weight made it difficult to draw breath. His grip on her forearms left her hands almost purple, but green eyes held silver as she fought for the short stuttering breaths his mass would allow.
Whatever possessed him was cold in its rage, calculating in speech. "You will never speak of such things again."
There was not enough breath to answer fully so she nodded her head and hissed the words, "It's the truth."
Shifting enough so she might breathe, Shepherd snarled, "You will be punished. Corday will die."
There was no anger or fear in her expression, simply unfathomable disappointment. "Look at me. Look at what you are doing."
Shepherd stared down at the woman he was hurting. When she brought her other hand up to cup his face, ignoring the black marks already blooming on her skin, he did not stop her, but neither did he enjoy her touch.
"I am only trying to help you see, to understand the point you are missing," Claire whispered, seeing that she had shaken him badly, hurt him.
He was unmoved. "You hate me."
Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating ourselves to the enemy's purpose. - Sun Tzu
"I am trying to be your mate; a woman you only took because Svana was unfaithful and you were in pain."
The furious ache in her other arm abated, Shepherd lessened his grip. "I took you because you were meant to be mine. I could smell it on you."
The warmth of her small hand slipped to his neck, to the ridge of muscles he once claimed hurt him, and she rubbed. "Had she remained faithful, would you have saved me from the mob?"
"What do you think you are doing?" Shepherd's nostrils flared, and though he was furious, his cock lay hard as a rock against her thigh.
Claire stopped her touch. "I was only trying to soothe you as you do for me when I'm upset. When your emotions are calm you will see that I am right."
Growling, he jammed himself inside her in one sharp thrust. Claire grimaced, and braced herself. Shepherd, heavy inside her, cupped her face, snarling as he touched his forehead to hers. "This is how you may soothe me."
He jerked and rocked her again, making her breath catch as she brought her aching arms up to embrace the raging Alpha. Overly rough, he snapped his hips, pounding away, practically howling when her slick eased his passage. "And you will scream my name every time I make you come!"
Chapter 12
Her entire body ached, even with warm water pouring over the fresh bruises. Overly attentive, Shepherd washed away the dried semen that made her sticky, which matted her hair, holding her to him as he bathed his mate.