“No, little one.”
She gave up with no bluster, a blend of disappointment and relief on her face. “You’re right. It was a silly idea. It’s not safe to be outside when it’s dark.”
“Your film will need to be displayed at another location.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait. What?”
Cupping her cheek, he purred and stroked… made a show of deliberation. Yet there was no deliberation, this move on the board had been orchestrated over weeks. Every last article or fragment of information allowed on her COMscreen hand-selected by him for a series of potential outcomes. Bait to draw her out of their home. “There are others who might enjoy this film and festivity. You are correct. We should embrace the Greth custom.”
Lips lightly pursed, shallow breaths a clear sign of anxiety, Claire stammered, “That… no. That is not—”
Untangling their limbs, he began to stand up and make ready for the day. “What film is it that you wish to see, little one?”
It was clear she didn’t fully grasp how greatly she had been outplayed. “It’s about a baker. I can’t remember what it’s called.”
The very film he had chosen for her and assured popped up in “advertisements” as she scrolled through her articles on local nesting styles.
Pleased with himself, yet above gloating, Shepherd declared, “I will ask my men if they have heard of a popular film about a baker. And I will also have subtitles prepared. You are not the only one still learning the language.”
Slipping from the bed as if to chase him down through all the feathers before he might escape, she said, “That sounds like an awful lot of work. It was a silly idea. I know you are busy. We should stay here where it’s quiet.”
It was time to make his intentions clear. “I want to see this film about a baker and try this Greth custom. I want to do this with you.”
“In front of other people?” Pinging suspicion knocked from her side of the link, Claire trying to intimidate him with the idea of normalcy in an effort to escape it herself. “You would dance with me and laugh and relax in front of your men?”
Towering over her as he pulled on his shirt, Shepherd shot her a smirk. “I came here to have a life, Claire. Many would relish an opportunity for some simple entertainment with their partners.”
And now his perfect Omega who had been making such progress was pacing.
“Claire, look at me.” Shepherd caught her arm to put an end to her anxious behavior.
Chewing her cuticle, concerned green eyes met his.
“I would not allow you to be anywhere where I did not know you were perfectly safe. Remember that when you have your tantrum after I leave.”
9
High-handed, unconcerned with the liberties he took… Shepherd had made his move. Claire saw that now, frustrated that clarity only struck in the wake of his ploys. He wanted her angry, mentioned her impending tantrum especially so she might snarl in indignation.
An angry Claire was not an anxious Claire. And she was angry.
Very angry now that it all sank in.
It was more than just the mess he had made of her nest… again. It was a never-ending pull.
He wanted a tantrum so that she would perform per his strategy, yet he was the one who’d left feathers everywhere. Nests were sacred to Omegas, they were art. Alphas were to admire them and relish the efforts of their mates.
In Thólos, he had respected her nest, encouraged it. Invaded on his whim. Now, they were taken for granted in his pursuit to… what? Annoy her?
His seed flowed down her thighs, a slippery reminder that he had only just fucked her and left. Downy feathers were in her hair, sticking to the mess as it ran down her legs. It would take an army of people to clean this room in the two hours she would sit and practice Greth’s Spanish.
Which would mean strangers near her most sacred space. Many strangers. Their scents would stain the air, a condition no Omega would appreciate.
So she would have to do it herself. Which, of course, he knew she would do.
Which was another reason it was obvious he had made the mess on purpose. Frustrations surging, she reached for her COMscreen and dialed her mate. He answered immediately.
“If you wanted to see a movie, you could have just said, ‘Claire, I want to see a movie about a baker.’ You didn’t need to destroy my house!”
There was no visual, but she could hear the smirk in his reply. “You would have declined the invitation.”
“I am so angry with you right now.” And she was growing more angry by the moment. “Why can’t you just be normal?”
No emotion layered his reply. “Watching a film is normal, little one.”
“You planned this whole thing from the beginning. This was all one big setup!”