Rage, it seemed, was all she was made of most days.
These men were not simply the psychopaths Claire had assumed. They were all on a mission. Jules claimed every member of Shepherd's army carried the burden of a painful past. If that was what it took to distort the psyche, to perpetuate evil in an attempt to do good, how far behind could she be?
Picking at her food, focusing again on the painting of Shepherd that served as companion during meals, Claire did not register the opening of the door.
The giant was pleased to find her admiring his portrait again, rounding the table to brush back her hair.
"I have brought you medicine to dull any pain," Shepherd explained once he had her attention. "Open your mouth."
Between her parted lips, two tablets were placed on her tongue, Claire sitting stupidly as Shepherd held her glass, pouring carefully so she could swallow. She obeyed, and his large thumb wiped away a small drip of milk.
Soaking in her surprised expression, he asked, "Have you been ill today?"
"No. Whatever is in that disgusting green drink seems to settle my stomach."
"But you are in pain and I was notified that you required relief," the male grunted, his concern obvious. "You also look tired."
"I didn't ask him for medicine and you already knew I was sore. You are physically demanding and my body is not always up to the challenge." Claire was tired. Very tired. "Besides, wasn't that the point of your punishment?"
Crouching to be nearer her eye level, Shepherd burrowed his hands in her hair and cradled her skull. "There was no punishment." The male began to work his fingers over her scalp. "These bruises … You should know that I was incredibly restrained. Antagonizing your mate to such a point is dangerous, as you are fragile, little one, and I am very strong. Yet in the anger you purposefully fostered, I fought myself. I did not strike you. I could have easily damaged you beyond repair."
The purr was so loud and his fingers felt incredibly comforting tugging her hair … even if his words were disturbing. "It was worth it," she muttered.
The man was oozing patience, still in that seeming calm he'd woken with. "Explain such a statement."
This version of Shepherd was never quite what it seemed. Cautiously, Claire answered, "It is the only way I know of to communicate with you."
He seemed intrigued, eyes shining as Shepherd dissected her stratagem. "You long for more conversation?"
If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle. - Sun Tzu
Claire needed to know Shepherd. She could no longer afford to ignore him as she had done before. She needed to know his Followers. More so, she needed to make sure she knew herself, and did not lose sight of what she was should he hurt her again.
Thinking over how best to answer, she sighed. "It would be normal to feel that I could trust you to simply sit down and talk with me. But you seem incapable of the restraint of listening to what you might not like-and feeling unheard makes me frustrated and unhappy."
"Do you not place some of the blame on yourself, little one? Your effort to ignore my presence is apparent."
"Why would I pay any attention to a man who doesn't listen to me or respect how I feel?"
"Because I am older and wiser. I know what is best."
Claire snorted, a small twitch in her lip. "What you are is a fanatic and a despot. And I don't really think you know me at all, Mr. green is your favorite color."
He made no answer. Instead, Shepherd reached forward and the arms he slid around her felt … reassuring. Yawning, wanting to lie down, Claire did not fuss when he carried her to bed.
The Alpha sat on the edge of the mattress, played with her hair, and commanded she close her eyes. "You will sleep now. If I find you in an acceptable state when I return, we will converse."
When she woke in the dim room, it was the best Claire had felt in some weeks. It wasn't just the nap or the painkillers, it was a small sense of purpose, a deeper feeling that her progress was positive. Good feelings were dangerous and easy to lose in her prison, so she carefully cherished it alone in the dark before putting it away-burying it deep so Shepherd could not take it from her.
The male had claimed he would talk to her; that gave her an arena she could prepare.
It had been fruitful to start a dialogue with him over her painting the day prior, so she would begin simply and try what she knew. Claire mixed up her paints and began detailing the image she had seen through the security feed before she broke the Omegas out of prison. She painted little sixteen-year-old Shanice being rutted by one of Shepherd's Followers.
Everything was as she remembered; nothing embellished, nothing altered.
Shepherd ripped it out from under her brush the second he returned and saw it. Balling it up, his eyes flared in fury, as he breathed so deep it stretched his chest like a dragon about to spit flames.
Claire did not react; she just let out a sigh and set her brush aside.
Speaking inoffensively about a very offensive subject, Claire began. "Her name is Shanice. She is sixteen years old. That was her first heat and I can guarantee that she was not willing. She's cried herself to sleep each night since estrous ended."
"Had my officer been able to pair-bond, she would have been as content as all the others!" Shepherd leaned his weight on the table, aggressively irritated to find what was not the ideal he expected to return to. "You are the only one unsettled."
Claire put her hand over his, not to comfort, but to make it clear she understood the consequences. "That man could not be a day younger than forty-five. That girl is still in school."
"I am much older than you," Shepherd countered hotly.
"Maybe by a decade, perhaps a little more. Not old enough to be my father. I am also a fully grown woman, Shepherd. I am not a child."
Flexing the fist under her small hand, Shepherd growled, "I am aware of what you are doing."
"I am trying to communicate with you about things I don't understand," Claire countered. Small fingers squeezed his hand again and she let her feelings show on her face. "Considering your mother … explain to me where the line blurs and this becomes acceptable?"
Shepherd took the seat across from her, agitated but growing forcedly composed. "Arranged Alpha-Omega pairings are common throughout history, and are statistically successful."
"If the baby I am carrying were a Omega would you want that for your child?"
"Under these circumstances, yes. The bonded Omegas are sheltered and protected by worthy Alphas. All are fed; they are safe … they are not mistreated. You are the one who would expose them to Thólos in your foolish misunderstanding of freedom." Twisting his hand, Shepherd captured her fingers, toyed with them, even though his words were harsh. "You never had it, Claire. You were never once free in this city … You have never once been free a day in your life."
She truly hated the sound of him speaking her name, knew that the unpleasant feelings it stirred up showed on her face, and felt her fortification slipping. Furthermore, she hated how Shepherd was holding her hand as if they were lovers, as if he had a right to-even if she had initiated contact. "You mistreated me. And I do not know what I hate more: your assumptions, or the fact that you just spoke my name simply because you know I dislike it."
A large thumb circled the flat of her palm. "Which makes this discourse the perfect time to begin adjusting you to the sound of it on my lips, little one."
Holding his gaze, forcing herself not to snatch back her hand, Claire admitted, "So we both have an agenda."
Pulling her arm nearer, Shepherd purred, "We will not have a repeat of yesterday's argument."
"That topic was already addressed. I know my feelings, I know what was done, and I know why … even if you will not admit it. It is up to you whether or not you face what is fact." After a breath, Claire looked up from where their hands were joined and tried a different approach. "Are the mated Omegas really settled?"
The word was hard and judgmental. "Yes."
She stared blankly. "You must wish you had chosen with less impulsiveness."
"I have never once questioned claiming you." Almost musically he explained his truth, "And in answer to your question yesterday; yes, I would have still fought the mob and claimed you had Svana not diverted. You were born to be mine."
Sarcastic, Claire cocked a brow and grumbled at the obtuse fool. "And were you always meant to be mine?"
He took her jaw and leaned forward. "Yes."
"Then I must admit I see the irony that, like my father, I received a mate who really wishes to be with someone else. That certainly is cruel of the Gods."
Shepherd did not hesitate to counter, "I only want you, Claire."
She let out a breath. "The first time I saw you at the Citadel, the first time I smelled you, I did not see you as my mate. All I felt was fear. It was very hard to stand my ground and not run."