She was shaking her head even as she whimpered, “My hands were tied above my head. I was naked on a dirty mattress deep underground. Svana fingered me, said she wished she could stay and watch… I told her I loved you. She laughed.”
The fingers in her hair seemed to catch, become claws, but Shepherd continued petting her as best he could.
“There were three Alphas. They were filthy and smiling. I couldn’t feel much the first time from the drugs you’d forced on me. I just laid there and pretended I was somewhere else. They didn’t like that.” The story continued in graphic detail, Shepherd holding her tight as the room cleared. Claire told him every last detail she could remember, even some she had forgotten, they’d been buried so deep. By the end of it, the sobbing had stopped, her voice was detached, her end of the link settled and pained.
“You did well,” Shepherd said. “Recounting the trauma is vital to your recovery, little one. It will get easier each time you do it, and you will be less afraid.”
Eyes vacant, Claire looked up. “Dr. Osin told me you killed them…”
Shepherd nodded slowly, not at all remorseful.
“Is there proof? I need to see what you did. I need to see them dead.”
“No.”
“I need to see it, Shepherd.”
“No,” he said softer, pleased Claire’s bossiness was rearing its head. “Tomorrow you will recount this to me again. That will do you far more good than looking at horrors.”
“Did they suffer?”
“Much more than you did.”
Claire was not sure how she felt about that, or why deep down she wished she’d been there to see it. “I don’t think I’m a good person anymore.”
Arms tightened in their embrace. “You are good, Claire. You’re perfect. You’re just a little lost right now.”Chapter 19Bernard Dome“Satellite uplink complete. Cue image transfer.”
Jacques did not wear his customary impudent smirk. Not for this meeting. He knew enough about who he was dealing with to offer no expression. Every tick and mannerism on either side would be evaluated; every last word would be broken down and reconstructed in search of hidden meanings.
He had accepted the Greth trade agreement. He had accepted the Greth Ambassador. And now it was time for the formal meeting between the Greth and Bernard Dome leaders.
On the wall before them, in a secure room populated by the highest ranking individuals, appeared the massive image of a cold-blooded killer. Like the Beta Ambassador standing at Jacques’ side, slithers of black teased out from the collar of the large male’s shirt, marking a thick neck almost to jaw. The Alpha’s hair was a shade of brown, close cropped in military style, a scar slashed across his lips.
Like Jacques, Shepherd was entirely unsmiling. Like Jacques, he was formally dressed, though it was much easier to imagine the Alpha in fatigues, smeared with blood and sweat.
The images Ancil had uncovered of the man were often times much worse.
“Greetings, Chancellor O’Donnell.” Jacques gestured to the Beta Ambassador at his side. “Per your request, Ambassador Havel is present.”
“Jules.”
The Beta responded at once. “Sir.”
When no formal greeting was offered in reply, Jacques continued as if the faux pas were nothing. “Will Queen Svana not be joining us today?”
“My mate is grieving the death of our unborn son. All state matters have been left to my care until she recovers.” Shepherd’s candor, it would seem, was even more abrupt than his dispassionate Ambassador.
Jacques offered a sympathetic bow. “I offer you both my condolences.”
“Your condolences are unnecessary, Jacques Bernard.” The Chancellor eyed the Commodore of Bernard Dome, weighing him before cutting his grey eyed gaze to Ambassador Havel. Without preamble, Shepherd began grunting out a language translation programs could not decipher.
Whatever was said, Ambassador Havel responded in equal measure, the pair carrying on a clandestine conversation right before the provoked Bernard Head of State.
Mouth growing tight, open vexation storming into a vicious glance, the Commodore cut off further private conversation. “If you have taken the time to learn French, then speak it.” He switched languages, fluidly. “Or do you prefer the Spanish of Greth?” The Commodore’s voice modulated again. “Or the English of Thólos?”
“We will speak on Thólos in a moment.” There was a twitch at the corner of Shepherd’s lips, the nearest thing the psychopath might ever offer to an arrogant smile. “But first, I would like to congratulate you on your upcoming pair-bond. Jules tells me you found a solitary Omega amidst your population and prefer her over those we’ve offered.”
Holding the eye of a male who’d dare condescend, Jacques offered a cold response. “The Omegas offered in trade are lovely. Lucia has already been bonded to my Security Advisor and is with child.”
The mention of a child after having admitted the loss of his own changed nothing in Shepherd’s demeanor. The male was unflappable. Jacques would remember that. He would remember to keep his own temper in check… especially when the Chancellor was testing how far he might exploit it.