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.
They had both slept, tangled and sweaty from hours of fucking like animals. Even as she was now, her eyes were half-dilated as if still in a mating high, which was probably the only thing keeping the Omega from hissing at the touch of his hands on tender skin his zealous possession had rubbed raw.
Shepherd took her chin, drawing her sleepy eyes to his face. ‘I will not harm Corday.’
Flatly, Claire answered, ‘I knew you wouldn’t.’
The giant hesitated, the creases by his eyes betraying a smirk. ‘Did you?’
‘If you hurt him, I would punish you as severely as I could.’
Shepherd’s amusement faded. ‘You would kill yourself.’
‘Yes.’
Each word was perfectly enunciated and lacked the bitterness the man felt sour his stomach. ‘His value to you is higher than the rest of your forty-three.’
Claire licked her wet lips and thought about how best to answer, or if she should even answer at all. ‘I owe him.’
Shepherd felt the rush of blood behind his eyes, fought to be gentle as he rinsed her hair. ‘It is more than that. I saw you together. You bear fondness for the Beta.’
Inspiring any type of excessive hatred in Shepherd for Corday could be dangerous to her friend, and would serve no purpose except to pointlessly agitate the Alpha. ‘I do not love Corday, not in the way you imagine. But I owe him, as I said. I have lied to him, and drugged him. I deceived him…’
‘To keep him safe,’ Shepherd purred, finishing her statement, somewhat mollified at the truth of her words and their echo in the bond. ‘Does that not sound familiar?’
‘No.’ Her answer was harsh.
‘Do not lie to me, little one. His situation mirrors yours.’
‘I said no because I meant no,’ Claire argued, grimacing at the stiffness in her hips when he began to rub. ‘You didn’t drug me to keep me safe. You drugged me to create a baby.’
He took her chin and turned her face up to force her full attention. ‘And that baby justifies your value to my men. It is keeping you alive.’
Scowling, feeling cold even in the heat and steam of the shower, apprehension crept over Claire. ‘What do you mean?’
Seeing his words had unsettled her, Shepherd spoke in a hard tone. ‘If you are not careful, if you do not begin to nest again and ensure that our offspring grows, should you miscarry… I would have to replace it immediately.’
A look of horror twisted her face. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You don’t need to. You simply need to be a mother.’ Shifting his mass, he pressed her back to the tiles. ‘You are mine, and I will do anything to ensure your continued survival. I would kill millions, I would lie to you, and I would rape you if I had to and fill you with child again should you lose this one.’
How had she felt even a moment of power over this man? ‘You’re scaring me.’
‘Good.’ He turned off the water and pulled her out. ‘It seems to be the only way to get through to you.’
‘What about your legacy?’
He smiled, a nasty thing, and pawed her belly. ‘It will be unparalleled.’
Wilting, Claire muttered, ‘I have no urge to nest. Not in that bed. Not anymore.’
As if the idea had not occurred to the Alpha, he narrowed his eyes and seemed to consider. ‘You wish for a new bed?’
‘I do not wish for anything,’ Claire sighed, feeling again as if she was talking to a wall.
Shepherd continued, speaking to himself. ‘If I procured this new bed, you would nest.’
Desperately uneasy, she growled. ‘You are not listening to me, Shepherd.’
‘And you would desire new materials, in that color you like…’ He was running a towel over her skin as if insensible to her bruised skin.
She snarled and batted his hands away. ‘You’re hurting me, you deaf jackass.’
Snapped out of his tirade, he froze and looked at the small thing that had just barked at him. Snorting a caustic laugh, he grunted, ‘You have grown far more outspoken with pregnancy.’
‘I have grown far more outspoken because I no longer care if you kill me! I don’t want a new bed. I want you to explain what the fuck you are talking about!’
Shepherd took her arm and gently turned her so that he might pat her hair dry. ‘You are only being difficult… you need a new bed.’
‘Okay, fine! Since you don’t listen to a goddamn thing I say anyway, here goes: I want a new bed in a big room with carpet instead of concrete. A room with a wall of windows that overlook a garden I planted full of flowers—which would be a miracle, as every houseplant I ever had died. I want to move without restriction through this grand house I will be nesting in, and be free to go outside and sit on grass… And I want a pony too, Shepherd. No, forget that. I want a fucking unicorn.’
Pulling her hair so that she had to look back at him, he scowled. ‘You may not have a pony, and unicorns don’t exist.’
She really didn’t mean to, was so in knots inside she could not even begin to fathom where it came from, but just for a second, she giggled. Slapping a hand over her mouth, still stuck with her head leaning back at an unnatural angle, she forced her face into neutrality and continued to make her point. ‘What color is it that you are so certain I like?’
‘You prefer green, the same shade as your eyes.’
Was that why almost every single dress he’d provided was green? ‘What gave you that idea?’
He looked as if such a miscalculation was not possible. ‘That is not the color you favor?’
‘Sure, it’s a pretty color… but it’s not my favorite color.’ Understanding, Claire narrowed her eyes and leveled a disapproving gaze at the man. ‘Let me guess, you got this information from your interrogations of the Omegas.’
‘Red, like your picture?’ he tried again, letting go of her hair so she might turn and he could see her fully.
‘No. Why didn’t you just ask me if you wanted to know something so mundane?’ But then it dawned on her. He wanted to provide things she was supposed to like without prompting… as a tactic of sorts; because that was the only way he knew how to be.
Shepherd grew aggravated, standing naked and demanding rudely, ‘What is your favorite color?’
‘Bird’s egg blue.’ Mocking him, Claire cocked her head to the side and batted her lashes. ‘And, Shepherd, since we are being so congenial, what is yours?’
‘Expressly, the exact color of your eyes.’ He wasn’t flirting, he was annoyed, but even so the words were… something. They made her blush and he noticed it, his intense gaze losing its edge and gaining that unnerving calculation instead. ‘I also find the rich black of your hair to be incredibly fetching.’
She was positively scarlet and clearly wanted him to look away. It had been months since she had tried to cover her nakedness and she did not know what led her to do it, but her arm came up to hide her flushed breasts.
Shepherd looked only amused, or fascinated might have been a better description. ‘And now you are shy…’ he cooed, evilly. ‘This is nothing I have not said before.’
But she had purposefully never listened… she had ignored it and hated the sound of his distorted raspy voice.
‘You know I find you to be very beautiful,’ the monster continued, proudly prowling, trapping her against the sink. ‘You are, in fact, the most comely female I have ever seen.’
Claire was sorely tempted to snap something nasty at him, to bring up Svana, or the Omegas, or anything to get him to stop looking at her that way. Instead she just stammered, ‘I… am cold.’
‘Well then, by all means, pretty little one,’ Shepherd’s thick arms encircled her, ‘let me warm you.’
A stifled noise sputtered passed her lips as bulging muscle pulled her flush.
His lips came to her ear and the man growled in the most licentious voice she had ever heard, ‘And you have the most beautiful pussy I have ever known. It is perfection. Anytime you should ask, I would lick it, taste you until you screamed my name like you did four times last night.’
‘STOP!’
Stroking his touch up her body until Claire’s jaw rested in his hand, he pulled the Omega from where she tried to hide her face against his chest. Their eyes mere inches apart, his hand delved between her legs to lightly swipe the gathering slick at her folds. Pulling slippery fingers away, he made a satisfied male noise and left her standing, panting, flushed, and aroused, while muttering, ‘Bird’s egg blue,’ as he left.
Those moments… when one has a black bag over their head, when a body is being jostled, and you know, you just fucking know, your number is up… those moments just plain suck.
Feeling hands shove her back until her rear end made an uncomfortable connection with a hard chair, Maryanne prepared for her greatest performance. Or she did until the bag came off in a swoop and she was face to face again… with Shepherd.
The words caught in her throat, the typical sensual quality she knew how to use to manipulate failed, and all Maryanne could do was stare.
That man had decimated Thólos… ruined her city. That man stank of Claire’s cooch. Ewww…
‘Well,’ Maryanne let out a breath, ‘turns out I was right about just where Claire disappeared to. Guess that means I’m off limits, huh?’
The looming male leaned closer. ‘Shall we discuss the nuances of the agreement between my mate and myself? I only offered to spare your life. There was no mention of what I would do with said life. Technically, I could break every bone in your body, subject you to torture, take what little freedom you have left. So long as you continue breathing I will have fulfilled my end of the bargain.’ Shepherd’s finger lightly tapped the table between them. ‘And Claire would never know…’
But he wanted something, otherwise she would not be there. He wanted something for Claire.
The terror was there, the slow rising panic that tainted her sweat and signaled to the much stronger Alpha that she was afraid. ‘You have a use for me.’
‘You will be coming back into my employ.’
‘What do you need me to steal?’
His mouth did not move in the slightest, but Maryanne was certain his expression displayed just how stupid he thought she was. ‘Your duty will be to bring information about the circumstances of the Omegas and the Beta, Enforcer Corday, to Claire. In these conversations, I advise that you make her happy, or you will be very unhappy when they conclude.’
The thought of seeing Claire chased away a fraction of the dread. ‘Sure thing. I know exactly how to make her smile.’
‘You will not share detailed information, just the general wellbeing of the individuals I send you to photograph. You will not interact with these people or be seen. All images will be checked before Claire views them, and should I find anything unsettling, it would not bode well for you. You will speak of absolutely no one else.’
Nodding, Maryanne signaled that she understood.
The last warning held the threat of great pain should she fail him. ‘And if she tries to pass you a note or does anything subversive, you will tell me privately. She will not be punished.’
Claire might try, Maryanne knew it in her bones, and she already hated knowing full well she would hand anything over to Shepherd rather than face the consequences of being the go between in correspondences with Claire’s little boyfriend. ‘She doesn’t trust me.’
‘Let’s not play games, Ms. Cauley.’
‘When do I begin?’
It took a few hours and another breakfast of the horrible green smoothie before her stomach settled from Shepherd’s odd adoring behavior in the shower. He was gone again, a thing Claire was supremely grateful for so she could stretch and pace and formulate her next move.
Looking at the nasty bruising on her arm, Claire flexed the limb, certain it would ache for quite some time. It was worth it. Shepherd may have cornered her that morning, made her uncomfortable and bashful, but she’d had him with his back against the wall the night before, just long enough to expose that she had been correct. Pieces of it were coming together, Shepherd’s mental need to keep her all to himself, using her to ease the grief Svana caused whether he recognized that fact or not, confirmed.
That was something; it was a place to start.
Shepherd’s initial reaction had been violent, even the sex, but when they woke he was only indulgent. It was as if the rage from the previous night, the force that had compelled him to fuck her so roughly and so long she’d become boneless, was just gone.
The man had exorcised a demon.
Even at his most dangerous, he had never looked from her face, kept much of his skin pressed to hers, ordered her to call out his name, his burning eyes almost rolling back in his skull each time she did. He communicated to her with his driving need, with the force in which he urged her climax; his fiery expressions used to frighten her, the set of his jaw, the glares… now she was beginning to understand. It was longing.
Shepherd was always watching her reaction, looking for something, some small hint as he coaxed out her sordid urges. He had some need that had been neglected. When coupled she was tender and would stroke him, draw in his scent and smile. Perhaps that was why he mated her so often; he had a base craving for such affection. Shepherd wanted her to love him and was confused as to how to foster such a thing when she did not automatically fall into what he assumed was proper Omega behavior.
Claire did not love him, but she had offered him comfort when his side of the cord displayed the turmoil her words had stirred up. That had been instinctive, and even though she despised Shepherd, it was the right thing to do in the war she was waging. Progress would require her to serve her position as mate if she was to stand even a chance of edifying him, and petty tactics such as seduction or dishonesty would never serve her.
Claire was not foolish enough to believe she could fix him. After all, Shepherd’s thinking was warped far beyond anything she could untwist. But she could chip away at the wrongness; she could expose weakness in a man who seemed to have none.
Claire was going to bare him to himself piece by piece if it killed her.
It probably would.
The door opened and the dead-eyed, dangerous Beta entered. He ran a quick appraisal over her and then went to switch the trays. ‘Your arm,’ Jules grunted, ‘do you require pain relief?’
The absolute disinterest in the man’s expression made the question completely strange. Edging nearer, circling around to face the male, Claire tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘That would bely the effects of the punishment.’
Aware of what the Omega had done to earn such bruises, Jules mocked, ‘You believe that to be a punishment? I thought you were supposed to be clever.’
Cocking her head, Claire felt something odd in their exchange but could not put her finger on it. ‘You find Shepherd’s actions intriguing?’
‘He was gentle with you.’
Looking down at her arm, at the black marring blotches, she frowned. ‘And here I thought you were supposed to be clever, Jules.’
The male was not interested in further communication and gave her his back.
Slipping the straps of her dress off her arms, she asked in a voice devoid of feeling, ‘Does this look gentle to you?’
Glancing over his shoulder at the woman decorated in the bruises of rough sex, Jules turned quickly to the wall and barked, ‘Put your dress back on!’
‘This is what confuses me about the lot of you.’ Claire continued, unmoved by his morality. ‘You won’t look because you find my nudity inappropriate, yet you created a city full of rape that you do not even blink an eye at. You are all walking contradictions.’
‘You are my leader’s mate. PUT ON YOUR DRESS.’
It was strange to see the man who always appeared unaffected grow agitated. Smirking, Claire pulled the fabric over tender skin. ‘I think we both made our point.’
Once certain she was decent, the man leveled her with a glare that almost held the same power as Shepherd’s. ‘You are playing a very dangerous game.’
Standing her ground, Claire said, ‘Not everyone is playing a game. I am simply trying to communicate, and I do not speak your language.’
‘You speak it better than you know.’
Was that actual praise? ‘Then speak to me. How old were your sons when you lost them?’
The man was not thrown by her sudden shift in the conversation. ‘Bertrand was four; Joseph just under a year.’
Claire smoothed her skirt, felt sadness. ‘Why were they killed?’
‘My wife was Omega.’ The sharpness of his gaze was frightening. ‘An Alpha wanted her. Before I even learned of what had happened, she had been pair-bonded to a friend of Premier Callas. The same Alpha who’d murdered our boys.’
‘What was her name?’
‘Rebecca.’
Somehow she just knew, Claire whispering, ‘And you killed her when Shepherd led you from the Undercroft.’
‘Yes, almost a decade ago—at her request.’
Claire understood. Even after the man had found her and taken her back, his Rebecca would have been gutted by the power of a pair-bond she must have hated more than Claire hated her own. Her lip began to tremble. ‘I am very sorry for what happened to your family, but I don’t understand how it led you here to do what you are doing now.’
‘Every member of this army is here for the same reason I am.’
It felt like Shepherd had told her a thousand times. ‘Revenge.’
‘Call it cultural enlightenment.’
Her green eyes, wide and eager, sat in a face bearing an urgent expression. ‘How do you not see the flaws in your own argument? Do you want the human race to end?’
‘How do you continue to deny yourself the truth? I overheard your conversation with Enforcer Corday. You admitted freely that Thólos has done this to itself.’ Jules approached her, unblinking. ‘Even before the breach, this very degradation infected all life under the Dome… Do not waste our time by pretending that you did not live a lie just to feel safe.’
It wasn’t that simple. ‘Shepherd took me. I had a life before. I had a career. I could have had a future if I’d met the right Alpha.’
‘Shepherd choosing you as a mate was the best possible outcome for you, though you are incapable of accepting that fact in your ignorance and resentment.’
Before she could offer a cutting retort, Jules opened the door and left.
Glaring at the door as if the man were still standing before it, Claire clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. In a few moments and a few carefully selected phrases, the Beta had shared more than Shepherd had in the first five weeks she had known him. Jules was a villain, of that she was certain, but a part of Claire could understand his rage.
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.’
Running his thumb over her frowning lips, Shepherd forced a question that tightened his mouth and squared his shoulders. ‘Because of my Da’rin Markings?’
Claire shook her head, her brows drawing together. ‘No. Because of what you’d done, where you were, how big you are… the violence. My father was a very nice man—funny and kind. That is the epitome of Alpha to me. That is a suiting mate. You are none of those things. Since you forced the bond, I feel controlled, manipulated, you have caused me grief, I cannot trust you, and you only treat me nicely to get your way.’
‘I will take responsibility for the grief, but as for the rest, much of it is your own fault. You have made little effort to be a contented mate. Your resistance and continued subversion requires a firm hand to ensure your safety. I would be cruel to you to keep you safe, and I freely manipulate you as there is no other recourse to draw you nearer. Had you settled as the other Omegas had settled, your life would be happy. And I am careful of your wellbeing. I bring you things you never thank me for. I offer you the best foods. I stroke and purr and please you physically for hours.’
Claire had intended the conversation to highlight her concerns with Thólos, not nitpick at the major issues as to why, aside from his many transgressions, their pair-bond was madness. Gritting her teeth at his list of ridiculous accusations, she took a deep breath and tried to control her temper. ‘When you were in the Undercroft, did you thank your jailors for what they brought you?’
Shepherd’s eyes went fractionally wider, the man incredibly insulted. ‘Thank me for the paints.’
Claire snarled, ‘Thank me for all the hours I have spent cleaning this room.’
‘Little one.’ The shift in him was unsettling. The male purred and squeezed her hand gently. ‘Your domestic behavior in our shared den is nothing but pleasing to me. Thank you.’
Scowling, Claire lost ground. ‘I am concerned that if I thank you for the paints, you will know how much I like them and take them away.’
‘I will not take your paints. I understand that you need them and that there is little outlet for you when I am not here.’
She did not believe him, but it didn’t matter. Her lower lip trembled. Feeling her eyes grow damp she whispered, ‘Thank you for the paints.’
‘Do you wish to continue talking, or would you prefer to go see the sky now?’
She had made no ground in her agenda, had wasted the opportunity and learned little. The whole fucking conversation had been imperceptibly moved to the tension between them by a man far more gifted in discourse. That was not her goal; that was not her purpose.
Taking a mental step back, needing to reformulate, Claire nodded, disengaged from the ordeal. ‘The sky.’
