Born to be Broken (Alpha's Claim Book 2) (20 page)

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.