What was a sky compared to that? Nothing. The sky was nothing.
His little one stirred, and dark lashes fluttered open. Seeing his face, smelling the familiarity of his breath, Claire hummed sadly and put a hand to her belly. "I am pregnant."
"You are, little one. Your scent is already altering." He disregarded the look in her eyes when it was not exactly one of joy, and stroked her cheek. "You will provide me with a fine child."
Something about the way he spoke made her incredibly uneasy. The haze of lust was gone; the moments of tender words and untrustworthy proclamations passed. Automatically, the purr increased and the tugs on her hair resumed. Watching him with distrust, Claire filtered through the memory of the last few days, aware he had been patient with her initial refusal and outright drug-induced aggression. Shepherd could have debased her but for hours he'd simply watched… until she began to drip, until the rut became unavoidable. Not that it absolved him of what he'd done, the manipulative bastard. She almost wished he would have just outright raped her.
He'd got what he wanted without her consent or approval, and been rewarded with a very willing bedmate in estrous.
"Are you going to keep our child locked in this room, too?" she asked, nervous that no matter what his answer was, it would not be good enough.
"No." The purr came full force.
Claire reached for his hand, holding his eyes as she pulled the roughened palm down her sticky body where it might rest over the life planted within her. It was almost impossible to bring herself to whisper, "Will you separate me from..."
The hand on her abdomen tightened over a womb cradling rapidly dividing cells, owning their combined genetics. "You do not need to worry over such things."
"That is not an answer." She rose to an elbow, growing indignant. "I was not ready for a child—certainly not with a man I hardly know—but you have done this, and I would know what you are going to do to us."
"Already the protective Omega mother; I find that pleases me." There was a strange glow in his eyes, as if the bastard was grinning, though his scarred lips remained neutral. Pressing her down into their nest, he purred, "I will not part you from our child."
But would somebody else? The man had ways of spouting half-truths. "Shepherd." The name was spoken like a threat.
There was a smile in his voice, a hint of something dark, as well. "Yes, little one?"
"Do not give me cause to hate you more."
He was charmed by the warning, and began to twist his fingers in a long strand of midnight hair. "No more talk of hatred. You are my mate, bound, and you will devote yourself to me."
Dark brows shot up and her jaw dropped. "You cannot force that."
The pad of his thumb traced her lips. "I can."
As if in agreement with the man, the thread began to bang loudly in her chest. There was to be no more talk, she was too tired to argue. The familiar weight of his hand moved from her belly to between her legs. Ignoring how Claire turned her head away he began to stroke the little bundle of nerves, flicking it to entice it to swell.
Shepherd growled and purred as he played with her pussy. "Submit. I will be gentle and you will enjoy it. Once you are calm, you will sleep more."
#
The room was colder than the cell Nona had been locked in for the past six days. A guard, a brutish man four times her size, gestured to the empty chair across from a Beta she had seen on the premises. That Beta had led the men who'd dragged Lilian and her friends away days ago.
"My name is Jules. Take the seat, Nona French."
He had an unplaceable inflection and the startling blue eyes of a bully; she knew his type. Nona pulled out the chair.
"Your registration states you are a Beta and, according to your clearly fraudulent record, you have never been pair-bonded or conceived children," the man began, looking up from the file before him to meet the older woman's eyes. "Are you the one who taught Miss O'Donnell to live as a Beta?"
The woman had her own questions and was disinterested in the Follower's bullshit. "Where is Claire?"
The smallest of smirks came to the Beta's face. Placing his hands on the table, he took his time organizing his body into a position of subtle intimidation. "She is where she belongs; with her mate."
"The Alpha, Shepherd?" It was asked like a question, but they both knew it was a statement of disgust. She'd seen the brute carry her off, Nona spraining her wrist trying to fight free so she might save her. Her wrinkled lips turned down at the corner, and the old woman's hands mirrored his—a strangely antagonistic stance for an Omega. "He locked her in a room for five weeks. That is no proper mate."