Reborn (Alpha's Claim 3)
Taking another bite so she could hide her smirk, Claire asked, “Enlighten me, Shepherd. Where do Omegas fit into military culture?”
Shepherd began to consider. It seemed like such a human gesture, the way he sucked his plump lower lip into his mouth, so totally normal, Claire could not look away. A moment later, Shepherd offered, “Napoleon was an Omega.”
Claire blinked, cocked her head, and argued. “No he wasn’t.”
Shepherd grinned, he leaned closer. “It is a well-documented fact, little one. A fact pointedly removed from the Dome’s retained version of history. Unlike you, I am not afraid to read forbidden books.”
If such a thing were true, then why was it considered dangerous to know?
Claire did not believe him. “Are you telling me an Omega pillaged through Europe’s monarchies and created an empire?”
Self-righteous to the core, Shepherd nodded. “That is exactly what I am telling you.”
The idea he might be right, made Claire doubt herself. “Why would that knowledge be forbidden?”
“Because it did not fall into line with the Callas family’s crafted society all those living under the Dome are slave to.”
“Or maybe it was because that man was a megalomaniac and a monster. Napoleon was insane and not the best role model for Omegas.” Even as Claire disagreed, she didn’t support her own bad argument. It was obvious in her uncertain tone and disappointed expression.
“Napoleon’s rule, even his ultimate defeat, led to enlightenment, art, and the emancipation of the slaves in Britain. Napoleon changed the world through his violent actions and commitment. He was a very clever tactician devoted to his cause.” Shepherd offered what he perceived as a compliment. “Would such an outcome not please you, little Napoleon?”
Her soft breath conveyed trepidation. “Is this where you try to convince me he was a good man despite all the terrible things he did? That you are a good man?”
“No.”
Claire ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit, and offered, “You could be a good man, Shepherd.”
He leaned towards her, expression soft and voice natural. “We are not so different in the absoluteness of our dedication to change the world for the better. You gave up your very sense of self to the mob, reprimanding the city with your flyer—exposing who you were, trying to inspire. I do what must be done, because I am strong enough to do it, and I understand truly evil men in a way I pray you will never know. So you must grasp that I cannot be, in my duty, what you define as good—just as you could never safely live amongst Thólos society as Claire O’Donnell ever again. We both sacrificed our lives for the greater good.”
She didn’t know why she felt compelled to ask, but the question came before she could stop herself. “What was your reaction to my flyer?”
His entire expression darkened. “I was afraid for you, little one.”
A cold chill, a creeping icy thing, scratched down Claire’s spine. She was wise enough to grasp that for the Alpha, fear was something long ago conquered and not at all welcome. To know she’d inspired it was unnerving.
His grim honesty continued. “I desired very intensely to alleviate the pain displayed in your photograph. I was even impressed with how unfailingly brave you were to do such a thing, though I abhorred it.”
Claire’s attention went to her plate; she felt like weeping and didn’t know why.
Her lack of words did not alter the undeniable tone in the thread. The connection was normalizing, vibrating, and creeping deeper. Before there might be anymore courtship rituals, before there might be a greater consequence, Claire stacked their cleared plates, ready to get her duty over with.
“Did you enjoy our meal?”
She nodded, even thanked him politely, hearing his instant purr when Shepherd’s eyes flashed at her praise. The feel of his hand on her arm, the long stroke of light fingers, stopped her movement. She watched, stunned, as the man lifted her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed it.
Slightly hoarse, Claire admitted, “I am not entirely sure where I should begin.”
He held her gaze, lightly flicked his tongue against her sensitive palm. “You could touch me.”
The worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation. -Sun Tzu
Her entire strategy centered on action, on pushing boundaries between them, on growing stronger as she sought out his weaknesses. There could be no room for hesitation if she wanted to gain ground.
Resting a hip on the table, Claire did as he suggested. He wanted to be touched, so that’s what she did. She traced his jaw and nose, ran her fingertips over his lips as he had done so often to her. Next, she stroked down the back of his neck, kneading the flesh he’d once claimed caused him pain.
Shepherd turned his head up to her, his mercurial eyes watching with such intensity Claire found her gaze rested far more comfortably on the Alpha’s broad shoulders.