Corrupted (Alpha's Claim 5)

“Claire,” Shepherd called to her with more force. “Take a deep breath.”

She did on command, not that she would do anything else.

“You are safe.”

Panting, already pulling away, she said, “I think we should leave.”

“Take another deep breath.”

Was he out of his mind? They were outside. In a courtyard. All courtyards in Thólos had been brimming with decomposing corpses. Bodies would have been swinging from the pretty trees. “Will you please stop!”

“One more breath. Hold it and count to six.”

Tears were running down her face, Claire not even sure why. “Gods, Shepherd. We have to go home—”

“Please don’t be afraid. The other women here will look to you, and they are frightened too.”

Unable to bring herself to glance beyond the hands pressed to her face, Claire sobbed.

How had she become this pathetic woman? This frightened rabbit who jumped every time a glass clinked or soft laughter filled the air?

What happened to the woman who had trimmed her hair, who had styled it similar to a fashion she had seen on her COMscreen?

What happened to the fierce mother of Collin who had survived Thólos?

“You’re doing well, little one.”

Embraced in the massive arms of her mate, she ruined the front of his pressed shirt. Not that he would ever care. Shepherd just purred for her. He gave her time.

When the panic began to pass, she pulled away, embarrassed and certain she would never leave her house again.

But a smiling older Omega pressed a fresh drink to her hand, kissing her on both cheeks in a style Claire had only seen in the programs on her COM.

And Shepherd had let her.

Hand shaking so hard the ice hit the side of the glass, Claire took a sip.

It did taste like strawberries.

And sugar.

Lime.

And a sort of liquor that had never slipped over her tongue before.

Huge thumbs swiped over pink cheeks, Shepherd praising her bravery and unabashed about how loudly he did so.

The shift was not immediate, but it was measurable.

Feeling came back to her fingers, then her legs. Thankfully, her dress left her arms and back bare, her sweat hardly making a mark.

Staring up at a man who could exercise remarkable kindness, Claire whispered, “You need a haircut.”

And they laughed.

Because he had seen the tufts of black hair she had left all over their bathroom floor.

Slate gray, iron gray, the gray of a freshly polished silver, the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen—he who stood amongst the social gathering, dressed like a regular man, asked, “Are you ready?”

Heart pounding so hard it hurt, Claire swallowed down another sip of sweetness, quoting Sun Tzu, “Can you imagine what I would do if I could do all I can?”

“Yes, Claire.” Stroking his hand down her spine as he turned her toward the sparkling courtyard, he said, “That is why I fear you above all others.”

“You’re not funny.”

“You think I am funny.”

Smirking, she took another step over cobblestones and moved nearer where other couples were engaged in their own conversations. Then it sank bone-deep. Shepherd won every war he’d ever waged.

Thólos fell. It ate itself just like he’d wanted it to. Greth now belonged to him.

What would he have done to this place if he had found no Omega mate in Thólos?

What would he have done to the world had they never met?

If Svana had...

He certainly would not have filled courtyards with happy people and the sweet smell of freshly baked things. There wouldn’t be pink drinks. The man didn’t care if the air were chilled or balmy, if the music were vibrant or morose. He would never care for the taste of good food unless she held up her fork and offered him a bite from her plate.

Shepherd craved only her.

Moreover, the villain would never deny it.

Patient, utterly still, Shepherd allowed Claire to stare at him in full understanding, purring as if he knew she finally realized her place in the world. Yet the almost unbearable weight of his silver eyes said, “You love me, and there is no undoing it. I love you so fiercely you will never be free of me.”

“Shepherd…” Swallowing, her mouth suddenly dry, Claire tried to find the words. “The responsibility of containing you is more than I can handle right now.”

Unmoved, he offered a simple smile.

Where other breathing humans could see.

Gulping at her drink, Claire gawked at him over her glass.

“The woman in the striped dress,” Shepherd began. “Her name is Regina. The man speaking to her is Phillipe. After his arrest five years ago, she was locked in a brothel frequented by powerful men. When Thólos fell, he climbed free of the Undercroft, found her, and then went on a rampage to kill every man whose name was on the books for having rented his mate.”

Green eyes observed the distant couple, who spoke with smiles, sipping their drinks. They looked happy.