Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 63920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Liquid iron eyes, hard and serene, sat above a serious mouth. He was not smiling. “No, little one.”
The miasma was choking her. Claire leaned closer to his warmth, needing to smell the thing that was supposed to keep her anchored. He pulled her forward, carefully and slow, to let her settle where he knew she wanted to be, purring louder until his mate’s breathing grew less labored.
Resting her forehead on Shepherd’s shoulder, Claire’s thoughts began to tumble. It should have been horrible to feel such comfort from the man who she should hate, who fed her reassurance through the link, who was going to allow an entire city full of people to cough up blood as they suffered horrific death from Red Consumption.
Her eyes went wide at the thought, her breath hitched, and Claire finally grasped the missing piece as if she had lifted it from his very thoughts. “You are going to release the virus!”
Shepherd did not even blink. “There is nothing but evil here, Claire.”
Frantic, she offered the first word that came to her mind. “Nona.”
“Is a murderer,” Shepherd answered. “And it was more than just her husband. Did you know that?”
Eyes welling, she shoved at him. “Do you think I would believe anything you told me?”
He urged her to listen. “Your friend, your mentor, is responsible for the deaths of at least seven Alpha males.”
All who probably deserved it, Claire thought. But that was the same argument Shepherd was using towards Thólos. Feeling her expression crumble she tried again. “Maryanne.”
Shepherd countered, “You told her to hide. I know what is in her dwelling. If she is wise, she will heed your warning. My men will not interfere.”
Claire felt so lost, gripping the front of his armor she knew there was one, one man even Shepherd could not count as evil, one man who had asked her to survive. Heartbroken, Claire whispered, “Corday is a good man.”
The Alpha stiffened. “The only civilians who can leave the city are the family of my Followers and newly bonded Omegas.”
And she finally understood what he had hinted at for months. “Because the Omegas carry the offspring of your Followers? Because I am pregnant with your child...” More tears fell.
“Yes,” Shepherd answered softly, kneading the tension where his hands rested on her back. “It was the only way to save you.”
The weight of the nightmare fell on her shoulders. Claire slid from her chair. She got down on her knees, mirroring Shepherd’s position, but so much smaller, and begged, “Please don’t do this. I will do anything you want, bear as many children as you desire. I will love you. Anything. Just don’t do this.”
She had never actually seen the man look desperate. The sound of his breath caught, a quick suck of distorted air preceded his confession, “I cannot stop it; I will not chance an uprising of the scum of this city who may muster, build transport, and threaten our family. Nothing can stop the inevitable.” He was already wrapping his arms around her. “Please do not cry.”
But she couldn’t stop. Nor could she stop how she clung to him as she wept, seeing in the bond the motivation for his deception. It was a pure emotion, acts made from the only good he knew—his absolute love for her. It was the very reason he had inflicted every last horrible thing on his mate, including pulling a syringe out of his pocket and driving a needle into her flesh at that very moment.
Chapter 9
Four precious hours had been wasted in the pursuit and pointless questioning of Maryanne Cauley. Corday had nothing to show for it, no further progress made on his dilemma. On the long walk back to his apartment, outside temperatures grew uncomfortably cold, but the pain of numb fingers was welcome—anything was welcome that might make him feel as wretched as he should.
Hands shaking from the chill, he unlocked his door, his eyes on the spot where Claire had once propped herself up, knocking in the night so he might give her shelter. The smears of blood on her pale skin, the torn flesh, the look of unbearable pain in her eyes, he hated the memory. That’s not how he wanted to recall her. Corday wanted to remember her cautious smiles, the spark that would come into her eye on the rare times his jokes chased away the cloud of fear storming inside her.
Had they the fortune of meeting before the breech, Corday was certain they would have been friends, lovers even. Sometimes you just see a person and know... and he’d lost her before she had ever been his.
She’d felt the pull between them too. After all, she had come to him after she’d leapt from the Citadel’s roof, ran through the dark and the cold, to reach him. He wanted to be there for her, but there was so much she belligerently carried out on her own.