Reborn (Alpha's Claim 3)

Stroking upward, his big hand enclosed over her throat again, but did not squeeze, only encircled the smooth column, a possessive gesture that made her flutter down below.

Warm words were purred at her ear. “Confess, little one.”

Disorder came from order, fear came from courage, weakness came from strength. –Sun Tzu

Disorder, fear, and weakness were all she’d seen wandering Thólos.

“You’re my mate,” Claire whispered. “You wanted instincts… and I’m all out of ideals.”

He stroked her again, Shepherd’s voice low and sincere. “I realize you are struggling to accept that everything was not as you originally believed. Growing wiser does not mean you failed. You should be proud that you possess the strength to face the truth.”

It felt far more like losing her faith.

Shepherd caressed her body, teasing further arousal until the knot subsided enough that he could take her to the nest and begin again—eager for his reward and her attention.

Arms full of Omega, Shepherd lay back on the mattress, pulling Claire to straddle him. Voice velvet, he teased. “This time I will be your prize, and you can take me anyway you desire. I will even put up a fight if you want me to,” a rich heady voice flowed, a smile thick in his voice. “And I’ll let you win, little Napoleon.”Since they had opened the Premier’s Sector, the rebellion’s progress had been gaining almost alarming momentum. It had been too easy for the one now addressed as Lady Kantor to usurp Brigadier Dane. The resistance wanted a savior to make everything better after the Senator’s death, and it looked as if one had appeared. None of the surviving Enforcers knew Leslie Kantor; she had no reputation, no fame or infamy. But she had a name—the same name as their newly dead hero.

All it took for the group to fall under her power was the name Kantor, her stunning smile, and promises of freedom from Shepherd’s tyranny.

One by one, the resistance bowed willingly—all but Brigadier Dane, who seemed vastly unsettled by what she was witnessing.

It was not that Corday doubted Leslie; it was that he trusted Dane. Even if he didn’t like his superior officer, after watching her tirelessly fight for the suffering people of their city, seen the look in her eye each time one of their family had been reported dead, he’d come to trust her instincts implicitly.

Brigadier Dane never openly spoke against Lady Kantor, not once she’d seen the Premier’s Sector with her own eyes. She obeyed every order, but it was her lack of communication that Corday noticed most. He knew her well enough to see the older woman discerned what was important; she knew what was at stake, and she understood the importance of unity... and the danger of what even Corday could see was a developing demagogue.

People went missing under the Dome every day; it made Lady Kantor’s ability to swell her hidden militia simpler as the weeks passed. A small portion of those missing people, those with no surviving family, who had lost everything—those hand selected by Leslie—joined the ranks of an organized and dedicated rebellion.

To join her cause, was to offer your life, literally.

Leslie Kantor spoke a great deal, her speeches fiery, the flagging men and women under their banner once again alive with faith. She said there was no need to fear infiltration again; they were untouchable now, simply because those recruited to join their crusade and enter the Premier’s Sector were not permitted to leave until the day they would take back the city.

The only souls who could pass through that secret underground door, were those charged with maintaining a charade. Brigadier Dane, Corday, a few key members of the original resistance, were ordered away to continue their lives outside the rebellion’s inner workings, to meet regularly, Leslie Kantor occasionally amongst them. In the same house where Senator Kantor had once laid out his plans, Brigadier Dane now laid out the sham of hers.

She had been ordered to serve as head of this puppet resistance, a great many of those who followed her having no idea a shadow organization had sprung up within their numbers.

Day in and day out, Corday did his duty, and day in and day out the resistance grew weaker while the rebellion grew stronger.

Unlike Brigadier Dane, Corday had been back inside the Premier’s Sector more than once to confer with Lady Kantor. Each time he’d returned, those who had been chosen, seemed more like Followers and less like citizens. There was a fire in their eyes when they looked to their leader, a zealotry that made Corday nervous.

All in the name of progress...

Leslie had taken to the dead Premier’s desk. His office had become hers, even though not all the bloodstains could be removed from the wallpaper or carpet. She always smiled when he entered; she always stood from her chair, circled the desk, and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.