Born to be Broken: A Darkverse Romance Novel (Alpha’s Claim Book 2)

By the time she’d found his home, Claire could little more than crawl. Scratching at the portal, fingers numb, she slumped to the floor. When the door cracked and squinting eyes showed in the dark, had she the capacity, Claire would have laughed. Never had a man looked more shocked.

She was filthy; stringy hair wet from snow and sweat, limbs badly scraped from her fall. About her throat, a bruise tellingly shaped in a handprint circled like a sad necklace. That was nothing compared to the state of her feet when he tried to help her stand. Torn and bleeding, more skin had been worn away than was sound. Corday hoisted her from the ground, her freezing body flush to his, and locked the door.

‘Claire!’ He vigorously rubbed his hands up and down the trembling woman’s back. ‘I have you.’

It’s a good thing he did; once the door locked her eyes rolled back in her skull, Claire unconscious. Corday rushed her to his shower, cranked on the heat, and stood with her under the spray. Her lips were blue, and no wonder considering that temperatures on this level of the Dome had grown near freezing. The Beta stripped off her ruined dress and washed every rivulet of blood from his friend, finding more bruises, more wounds, more reasons to hate Shepherd.

The gauze at her shoulder he’d left for last, grateful at least something had been tended to. But as it grew saturated, he grew worried by what was hinted at under the bandage. Peeling it back, Corday cursed to see what the beast had done to her. Shepherd’s claiming marks, the tissue red and distorted—even after what looked like weeks of healing, her shoulder was a fucking mess.

The monster had mutilated her.

The water turned as cold as Corday’s blood. He pulled her out, dried her the best he could, and tucked Claire into the warmth of his bed. There she lay, naked and badly damaged, a little color coming back to her hollowed cheeks. One at a time, he uncovered limbs, tending scraps, bandaging wounds, doing his best to preserve her modesty. That didn’t mean he didn’t see them, the telling bruises mottling her inner thighs.

She looked almost as bad as the Omegas the resistance had rescued…

It frightened him. Not one of those women was thriving. Even safe, they deteriorated—hardly spoke, hardly ate. More of them had died, and though the Enforcers could not pinpoint the cause, Brigadier Dane was certain with all that they’d suffered—the children and mates that had been taken from them—they had simply lost the will to live.

Claire had to be different.

Left arm, right arm, both elbows sluggishly bled. Salve and bandages was the best Corday could offer. But there was nothing he could do for her throat; the mottled yellow-brown bruises were not fresh. The Omega’s injuries grew far more complicated with her legs—both kneecaps were grotesque; one gash deep enough to require stitches. He did his best with butterfly sutures, closing the gap of torn flesh, lining up the skin so that it might stand a chance of mending. Her joints would swell—that was unavoidable—and he hesitated to ice them as she was already shivering and still cold to the touch.

‘You’re gonna be okay, Claire,’ he promised. ‘You’re safe with me.’

Claire opened bloodshot eyes; she looked at the Beta whose face she could read like a book. He was scared for her. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’

‘Shhh.’ He leaned down, smiling to see her awake. Stroking the wet, tangled hair from her face, he said, ‘Rest your throat.’

She complied, and Corday worked quickly to finish, disinfecting every abrasion on her outer thighs, knees, and shins. Her feet were a different matter. There was little he could do, and she would hardly be able to walk in the days to come. He picked out the detritus, noting how she didn’t move or twitch even when a fresh wave of blood followed a large chunk of glass once it was pulled free. He wrapped her feet tight, and said a prayer to all three Gods that the open wounds would not fester.

Once it looked like she was asleep, he rose.

Claire’s hand shot out, her bruised fingers clawing into his sleeve. ‘Don’t go!’

‘You need medicine,’ Corday soothed, weaving his fingers with hers.

Claire held tighter, disjointed and afraid. ‘Don’t leave me alone.’

Brushing a pile of bandage wrappers to the floor, Corday did as she wished. He slipped under the covers beside her, offering body heat and a safe place to rest. Claire let him hold her, laying her head on his shoulder, still.

Ashamed to ask, beyond pathetic, she whispered, ‘Will you purr for me?’

Such a thing was an act of intimacy between lovers and family, but there was no hesitation in the Beta. Corday pulled in a deep breath and started the rumbling vibration at once. The sound was a little off—the act being something he was unaccustomed to—and though it lacked the richness of an Alpha purr, it was infinitely comforting in that moment.

‘That’s nice.’ Exhausted, Claire sighed. ‘Please don’t stop.’

Corday thumbed a spilling tear from her cheek. ‘I won’t, Claire.’

In the voice of a broken thing, Claire began to feel more than endless choking malaise; she felt disgust… for herself. ‘I hate that name.’

Huddled close to her friend, like children whispering secrets, Claire woke. Though her body ached, she was warm, surrounded in a scent of safety, and grateful for the boyish smile Corday offered once she’d pried her sticky lashes apart.

Cautious and gentle, he smoothed her tangled hair. ‘You look much better.’

They were so close she could see the night’s stubble on his cheek, smell his breath.

He seemed so real.

Sucking her split lower lip into her mouth, Claire felt the sting. Tasting the scab left when that woman, Svana, had struck her for refusing to spread, made the nightmare real again. It was as if Svana were in the room with her, as if the Alpha’s hands remained wrapped around her throat.

Claire struggled to breathe.

Corday broke through her growing terror. ‘You’re okay, Claire. I’ll keep you safe.’

It wasn’t a dream, it was real. Claire grew to understand that the more Corday spoke, the more he touched her, the more she felt the sun on her face.

How had she even come to be there?

She was separated from Shepherd, in a great deal of physical discomfort, naked, and Corday had taken her in, despite the fact that she had drugged him—lied to him.

She had to remind herself out loud; she had to make herself remember. ‘I jumped off the back terrace of the Citadel… crashed into snow.’

‘And you ran here,’ Corday finished for her.

She had, before air had even returned to her lungs she’d scampered up and fled. ‘I ran as fast as I could… right to your door.’ Voice breaking, trembling something fierce, Claire sobbed, ‘I’m sorry, Corday.’

Seeing her panic, he tried to calm her. ‘There is nothing to be sorry for.’

‘I drugged you,’ she whispered. ‘I lied. And now he’ll find you. He’ll hurt you.’

‘He won’t.’ Corday grew earnest and severe. ‘You can trust me. There is no need for you to lie to me again. I can’t help you if you lie.’

‘If I had taken you to the Omegas, he would have killed you, just as he killed Lilian and the others.’ Claire looked to the pillowcase lightly crusted with her blood. ‘He punished me… I’m pregnant.’

Corday already knew. He’d smelled it almost the instant Claire had been in his arms. There was only one way such a thing could have come to pass. Shepherd had forced another heat cycle.

There was very little he could say, little he could do, but one thing Corday could offer her. He looked her dead in the eye and asked, ‘Do you want to remain that way?’

What a question… Claire had to think, recognized she had been clinging to the Beta to the point where it must have made his shoulder ache. Easing her hold, she measured the little bit of human that she still was, and knew she had not wanted a baby yet. More so, she had foolishly allowed herself to develop an attachment to the monster that had filled her womb, a monster that was using her like a broodmare—a beast whose lover had tried to kill her.

Claire pressed her hand to the tiny life growing inside her. She could rid herself of the issue; abortion was a common practice, probably accessible even now. She could have Shepherd carved out of her.

After a shuddering breath she admitted her horrific truth, ‘I don’t feel anything, you know. Inside… I feel nothing at all.’

He gave her space, offering a lopsided smile. ‘I know it might seem like the world has ended for you, Claire, but you are free now. You’re a survivor.’

She could not help but sadly smile at a man who would never understand. ‘Survivor? What kind of future do you see for me? I was pair-bonded to a monster to be his toy, drugged into an unnatural heat cycle, impregnated against my will so I would grow devoted, and then forced to listen to the Alpha who was supposed to be my mate fuck his lover—a very scary Alpha female who wrapped her hands around my throat, who shoved her fingers inside me right in front of him.’

He couldn’t stop a grimace. ‘Shhh. This can be made right.’

‘It’s okay for us both to admit there isn’t going to be a happy ending for me.’ Claire sat up, holding the sheet to her chest, empty. ‘I have no future, but I can still fight for them.’

Brushing back her hair, wanting to pull her nearer, Corday restrained the desire to embrace the sad-eyed woman. ‘If you step outside that door and try to take on Shepherd, you won’t win.’

‘I won’t win… but I am going to act out.’ A goal, something to cling to, hardened her voice. Claire sneered. ‘I’m going to do everything I can to make noise. And if they catch me, I’ll make sure they kill me.’

‘Please listen to me,’ Corday grew urgent, afraid to scare her off should he say the wrong thing. ‘Let’s talk this through. The best thing you can do right now is grow stronger. ‘

‘I intend to.’ She nodded, knowing he misunderstood. ‘Shepherd once told me there is no good in the people of Thólos. He was wrong. This occupation has stripped away our pretenses; it has made us naked to our nature. Don’t you see? Integrity, kindness—it exists here…’ Claire closed her eyes, nestled nearer once again. ‘You, Corday, are a good man.’

He didn’t hesitate to pull her flush. ‘And you’re a good woman.’

Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she sighed. She might have been a good woman once, but the truth was, she was not a person anymore. She was a shadow.

‘I want you to know that while you were gone, we uncovered the distributors of the counterfeit heat-suppressants. Omegas were rescued. They are recovering and protected. The drugs were destroyed; every last man paid for his crimes.’

There was a flutter in Claire’s chest, a moment of feeling she tore to pieces before it might infect her. ‘Thank you, Corday.’

‘You are a part of that, you know?’ Boyish eagerness, a desire to see Claire pleased, infected his grin. ‘Your determination—you fought for them. They have you to thank for their freedom.’

‘I didn’t do anything but get raped and cry about it.’

‘You’re wrong.’ Corday took her cheek, made her meet his eye. ‘You stood up to the biggest monster of them all. You have escaped him twice now. You are strong, Claire.’

But she wasn’t. ‘No… you don’t understand. The pair-bond, the pregnancy… I started to care for him, to need him.’ Saying it out loud made her mouth taste of vomit. ‘I was weak.’

Corday knew none of that was her fault. ‘Given the circumstances, what happened was only natural.’

‘I don’t know what it was… but it was. I stopped seeing a monster and wanted the attention of the man. And once he’d persuaded my affection, he made it the world’s sickest joke. I should be grateful, I guess. Listening to him with her… it ripped the pair-bond out. He can’t control me now.’

The total lack of emotion in Claire’s voice disturbed Corday. Whatever Shepherd had done had damaged the Omega, and a part of him wondered if every expression she was making was only because she was supposed to remember things like breathing and blinking.

Oblivious to the apprehension in her friend, Claire continued. ‘I get it now. This breach was not about gaining power. We’re his puppets, falling rabid at the snap of his fingers. We dance on his stage. Shepherd, his Followers, they’re punishing us all for…’ she scoffed under her breath, ‘for blind ignorance. For allowing what was done to them.’

‘You are free of him, of his lies, and his evil, Claire. Remember that.’

‘The Dome is cracked. It’s snowing outside. Not frost, real snow. We are not free of him, not when we let that happen. We let this all happen.’

‘We can take back Thólos.’

Claire’s breath hitched. ‘Not so long as he is alive.’

‘Your Omega escaped through a broken drainage gate. Blood on the scene shows the direction in which she fled and that her bearing was not affected by broken legs. The trail was lost when she slid below mid-level and moved out over accumulating sludge.’

‘How much blood?’ Shepherd demanded, skimming the report in his hand for anything relevant.

‘Considering the distance she fell, minimal. Internal bleeding may be an issue.’

His unforgiving gunmetal glare caught the light. Impatient, Shepherd growled, ‘She has not eaten in almost a week. She will not have been able to manage a great distance malnourished, shoeless, and bleeding.’

‘Was she suffering from morning sickness?’

Shepherd turned toward his desk, his attention going back to the report. ‘Hunger strike.’

Jules, unsurprised by such a statement, remained blank. ‘When she is returned, what are your expectations of Miss O’Donnell?’

Exceedingly irate, Shepherd hissed, ‘For her to resume her duty as my mate.’

Only psychological damage would lead a pregnant, pair-bonded Omega to hunger strike and jump off a building in madness. Jules grew blunt. ‘And if that’s not possible? Whom do you intend to serve as surrogate Alpha to see to her until she delivers your heir?’

Muscles straining, Shepherd warned, ‘You presume much, Jules. She will be returned and her behavior corrected.’

Jules was second-in-command for a good reason—he was shrewd and willing to act. Employing candor, he stated, ‘Without physical contact the Omega will willingly accept, she may miscarry.’

Shepherd was not to be gainsaid by man or woman. His final order was issued. ‘You are dismissed.’

Grasping that the situation was beyond his original assessment, Jules saluted and removed himself from the room.

Shepherd took to his desk, alone. Memorizing the reports flashing on his COMscreen, every so often he habitually glanced behind him, expecting to see Claire pacing. But she was not there. She was gone… He knew in his bones that his mate had sought out the noble man who had offered help. The Beta would take her in, tend her, comfort her, touch her. The very idea another might hold her… act as a surrogate… infuriated him.

Gnashing his teeth, Shepherd swore. The Beta would die screaming.

Had Shepherd not purred, growled, stroked, followed every instinct to rouse her back from her stupor? He’d even tried to explain. Him! The Alpha, the strongest who was never questioned, had tried to reason with an Omega. But she had not even blinked.

She’d slipped so far out of his grasp.

It was her vocation to stay, to be devoted, to love him, to obey. Had he not seen to her needs? Had he not given her nice dresses and the best food? Had he not spent hours simply petting the girl until she was completely content? What was one unpleasant situation compared to that?

Had he not saved her life in more ways than one?

Impregnating her ensured her survival, justified her maintenance to his followers. No one could question the safekeeping of his baby. More importantly, it gave her purpose and distraction. Shepherd could not tell her in so many words—she was not one of them, remained far too determined in her ideal of goodness to comprehend the greatness of his calling. Furthermore, the reasoning behind his actions was unnecessary for her to know. Shepherd knew if Claire realized the true nature of what was coming, she would only fret more. She would cry for her pathetic citizens instead of giving all her attention to him. Direct treachery was best: it kept him in control of her fate. But she was willful, so damn obstinate with her foolish romantic notions.

Shepherd’s fist crashed against the table. He roared, upended the entire thing until papers flew and his COMscreen cracked against the cold floor.

Svana’s unexpected arrival had been infuriatingly problematic. Not only was she displeased by what she had found, Svana would have ripped Claire’s beautiful eyes out had Shepherd not pacified his beloved once she’d seen what he’d kept hidden away. You don’t reason with provoked Alphas, you show action. Had he not fucked her loudly, broadcasting his favor to ensure the territorial female did not view the Omega as a threat, Claire would have been murdered the first moment he left her alone. He had done what was necessary, for both of the women.

It was the price to keep Claire.

Yet he had lost her anyway, even before she had run. Watching her mentally slip away, his rush of anger, his outright fury… it was the same rage that had burned him when he rose from the Undercroft to murder Premier Callas… only to find the leader of Thólos—the man who’d sentenced his mother to the Undercroft—was richly laced with the scent of Svana’s sex.

Shepherd had drawn a deep breath, momentarily stunned as he processed what could not be—until he understood what Svana had done.

The speech he’d prepared for his greatest enemy, the one perfected night after night caged underground, was forgotten. What should have been a quick death, the body to be displayed, ended in blood dripping from the ceiling, Premier Callas’ entrails flung all over the floor.

And then came pain far more horrific than any agony his Da’rin markings might produce. His beloved had defiled herself, purposefully tainted her body by mating with the enemy.

Shepherd had confronted Svana, the woman he had loved from the first moment they’d met in the dark, the ethereal creature that was his whole life, who held his soul in her beautiful hands. The woman who had set him free, empowered him to gain control of the Undercroft—the very woman he’d killed for, suffered for, ached for.

Since their first sexual experience, Shepherd had only ever lain with the occasional estrous high Omega his beloved had procured for them—so they could fulfil the animal urge to rut together as they were meant to. For lesser beings, Alpha/Alpha pairings were difficult, as there was no pair-bond, and it was in their natures to challenge for dominance. But the two of them were beyond such sordid behavior. Or so he’d thought. He had never wavered… not once.

She had.

She had fucked the Premier, thrown what they had aside for some distorted ploy, as the final undiscussed crux in her plan. As Shepherd heard her speak on the matter, as she convincingly painted a grand scenario, he could not bring himself to question what she’d never mentioned. Svana had planned her seduction all along. Though she held Shepherd and spoke of her love, he was attuned to her; he could smell what was wrong in her scent. What had been done was even worse than he’d originally believed; Svana had chemically forced an unlikely ovulation. She wanted to bear the child of her enemy… to have a traitor’s lineage continue the line—a man who wasn’t infected with Da’rin, who was born with superior bloodlines—a man who might even be the carrier of the alleged antibody to the Red Consumption in his veins.

Not like Shepherd, who didn’t know which of the countless prisoners who’d raped his mother had fathered him. His blood had not been fostered through generations with access to secret science and inoculations against disease. Instead, he was disfigured by Da’rin that burned in the sun and would always mark him as a castoff.

She had not voiced it, but Shepherd interpreted the truth. Svana found him wanting in the most primal of ways.

All those years, Shepherd’s fidelity had been one sided. Svana did not hesitate to admit she’d taken other lovers. Hadn’t he? After all, were they not Alphas? Was it not their right? She had stroked his chest and smiled so perfectly, reminding him that what they shared was beyond the physical. They shared a great destiny, an eternal spiritual bond of love.

Gutted, Shepherd had fulfilled his duty to his loyal Followers, to the dead mother he hardly remembered. Thólos fell, everyone playing their part to perfection; yet he was less for it. The world had shifted, he had achieved greatness, but what was he left with? Nothing. A big black hole where the light had gone out. He was incomplete.

But then he smelled something untainted hiding under the poignant stink of decay. Like a gift from the Gods, Claire was delivered; unlikely virtue born out of the filth of Thólos. A lotus. Claire, with her convictions and her timid bravery, walked up to a man like him—stubbornly waited for hours, a lamb amongst the wolves—to beg for help from the very villain inflicting suffering on the friends she would save.

One breath of her and he would have taken her, heat or no. The Gods had simplified his spiritual culmination by delivering her in estrous.

As he’d rutted the willful, strange thing, Shepherd found she wriggled so wonderfully, felt so perfectly snug encasing his cock, that he had to ensure she could never leave. As Svana had claimed their devotion was beyond the physical, their love divine, Shepherd felt perfectly justified in taking Claire, in creating a corporeal mate—an attachment that would only benefit the unruly Omega. He bonded to keep Claire for himself, his reward for service to the greater good of mankind reborn. The green-eyed little one’s purity was now his own, her nearness succor. In Claire, Shepherd had regained that missing piece, the covetous need to possess something innocent, achieved.

Yet, now his bonded mate was gone with his child in her belly, wandering a city that was destined for plague.

The Omega would never come back to him willingly, not while the pair-bond was so damaged. Shepherd would have to return Claire by force.

He could almost hear the echo of her words in the air: do not give me cause to hate you more.

What had gone through the mind of the Omega he’d found unconscious on the bathroom floor? He’d anticipated anger, but found something impaired far beyond his reasoning. His coupling with Svana had left Claire unresponsive and empty—left the cord so fractured, all Shepherd could feel from her was an echo of desolation.

It was not a sensation he enjoyed.

No amount of attention or space had made a difference. Glassy eyes looked at him with judgment and hatred no matter how he tended her, touched her, or purred. All her favorite foods had been prepared, new dresses put in her drawer… she had not even noticed.

Claire O’Donnell belonged to him. Shepherd would find her, drag her back… and force feed her if he fucking had to. He would make her adore him like she was supposed to. Because she was his, only his, and he did not share his things. Ever.

He had even prevented the sharing of her body with his beloved. Was that not something?

Corday had rushed to carry out his mission for the resistance, eager to return to Claire. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust her to stay put, it was because he didn’t trust her at all. The look in her eyes when Senator Kantor had arrived to guard her had been nothing but calculating. There was none of her former fear or skittishness, her reaction numbed as she sized up the Alpha.

The Senator could see the change in her as well, Kantor reacting with cautious courtesy. They exchanged pleasantries, Corday made them coffee, and then he left to meet Brigadier Dane. Corday’s duties kept him out past dark, and the Enforcer was utterly unprepared for the sight that met his eyes when he returned home.

Claire was asleep, curled up on the couch next to Senator Kantor, who was boldly purring in the dark.

A stab of something unwelcome drew Corday to frown. ‘Did she ask you to do that?’

‘No. I knew what would lull her to sleep,’ Senator Kantor answered in a hushed tone. ‘Rebecca struggled to fall asleep too. I learned a lot tending my wife in the years the Gods blessed me with my Omega.’

It was taboo to speak of deceased mates; Corday was surprised to hear the Alpha mention Rebecca—especially considering the sad circumstances of her long ago murder by Kantor’s political adversary. It had been a sensation and had led to Senator Bergie, several of his staff, and even Bergie’s son being incarcerated in the Undercroft.

Unsure what to say in response, Corday lit a few candles, and dragged a seat over from the kitchen, his face grim as he looked at the sleeping girl. ‘How was she today?’

‘Better once she ate—less catatonic, more cognizant.’ Senator Kantor studied the wasted thing. ‘Miss O’Donnell’s physical reaction after having parted from the father will be complicated. The pair-bond and the pregnancy will make her ill.’

Corday had faith things might turn out better. ‘She told me the pair-bond was broken. As for the pregnancy, I will take care of her.’

Senator Kantor shook his head ‘It doesn’t work that way, son.’

Shooting a look at the Alpha, Corday ground his teeth. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Now that you are back, the three of us need to have a discussion.’ Senator Kantor sat straighter, smoothing his sleeve. ‘Get dinner in her first; afterward the two of us will explain.’

It was unsettling to be ordered around in his own home, but Corday nodded and went to the kitchen. Simple fare was prepared. There was some fresh fruit for Claire, an apple he’d bartered for a handful of batteries.

When all was ready, Corday carefully took Claire’s limp hand, stroking her fingers until her bleary green eyes popped open. It was obvious she was confused. For just a moment she jerked from his nearness, ready to run. Then it began. The rich rumble of an Alpha purr took Claire from startled to angry.

The glare she gave Senator Kantor would have been funny had her scent not turned so rancid with fear. ‘You can stop now.’

The old man conceded.

Over dinner, the men chose silence. Claire did not. ‘Is there another bounty?’

Corday was not going to lie to her. ‘Yes.’

She forced down another salty bite. ‘And?’

‘When we observed the Citadel, there was a line of citizens dragging in women of your description.’

Claire cringed. ‘That’s disgusting…’

‘From what I could see, the Followers were letting them go, but citizens are starving.’ This was Corday’s chance to explain why Senator Kantor was really there. ‘The bounty on your head could keep a family fed for a year. We have to keep you hidden.’

The old Alpha broached the greater issue. ‘And not just from Thólos.’

Claire cocked her head. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I need you to understand that what is said cannot leave this room.’

He’d insulted her. ‘I never told Shepherd a thing. Never,’ she said.

‘Dissention could be our greater enemy.’ Ruffling his grey hair, elbows on his knees, Kantor sighed. ‘Many of our people believe that unification under the Follower’s governance would satisfy Shepherd. The fact is, these citizens are numerous and growing more loyal to the dictator’s regime than we could have imagined. Our own ranks, even some of our brothers and sisters in arms, have been tempted to the other side. Once ensconced, they cannot be reasoned with. Your appearance within the resistance might offer too great a temptation for any straddling the line. Corday and I both believe they will vie to give you back.’

‘We would never let that happen, Claire,’ Corday interjected, desperate to explain once he saw the look on her face. ‘Ever. Do you understand?’

Senator Kantor dared to squeeze her hand. ‘We need our troops focused. We must find the contagion. To do that, you must stay hidden. No one can know you’re here.’

Claire sat silent, processing such information. When she finally spoke, her words were not gentle. ‘You seem to be a wise man, Senator Kantor, but can’t you see that time and further suffering will corrode those loyal to you no matter what? My pregnancy is the key to your success. So long as I am running wild in Thólos with his baby as my hostage, he won’t infect the population—not at the risk of infecting me. Now is your chance to strike. Use me and rebel immediately.’

‘I disagree… Shepherd’s treatment of you has been appalling, negligent in the gravest of ways.’ Solemn, Senator Kantor denied her. ‘If we move prematurely, he might release the contagion. I cannot risk millions of lives, your life, on a maybe. I’m sorry, Claire. Until the Red Consumption’s location is uncovered, the resistance will make no move.’

The line of Claire’s mouth grew sharp. Sitting taller, she looked at both of them as if they were simpletons. ‘It’s not the contagion that keeps us in his power. It’s our own cowardice. Every day our people do nothing; the bastard is proving his view of our behavior is correct. The Dome is cracked. Don’t you see the weather will kill us long before any virus might? We have to take back our city, or we die trying.’

Senator Kantor put a hand on the Omega’s shoulder. ‘Thólos’s citizens are not soldiers; they’re scared and have no comprehension of combat. You must understand; many are watching their families suffer, their children are dying.’

Claire shook her head, swallowed her outburst. ‘No one in this city is a civilian anymore, there is no neutral. Either you are with Shepherd, or you are against him.’

‘It isn’t that simple, Claire.’

She looked to Senator Kantor, lost. ‘Isn’t it?’

A deep sigh preceded Senator Kantor’s explanation. ‘You are still young, and will learn in time that things are not always as they seem.’

Claire cocked her head, her previously glowing image of so highly regarded a Senator distorted by the sad impotence of such a man. ‘Shepherd once told me the same thing… You just echoed the words of a madman.’

Senator Kantor offered a conciliatory smile, his look of pity disarming. ‘I’m asking you to trust me.’

Corday understood what riled her; bone deep, he felt the same away. ‘We make progress every day, Claire. I swear it to you.’

Claire looked to her friend and could see he had faith in the Alpha charged to lead the rebellion.

‘I understand.’ And she did. She understood that the longer they waited, the more people would die—that the world was a nightmare where the men and women who’d once sworn to uphold the law might hand her back to a despot for food that would only last so long.

She understood perfectly.

She hurt; everyone hurt. And it had to end.

Once Senator Kantor had left, Corday took her hand, and led her back to the couch to rest. When he had her to himself, Corday smiled and pulled a gift out of his pocket.

‘I have something to cheer you up.’ The Enforcer, his face dimpled, held up what was pinched between his fingers. ‘A few weeks ago I went to your residence. Everything was pretty smashed up, but I found this hidden under the lining of your jewelry box.’

He slid a band of gold on her finger.

The gold was warm, but Claire’s reaction to it utterly cold. ‘This was my mother’s wedding ring.’

As a child she’d hated the sight of it, still angry her mother had abandoned her, too young to accept what had happened. Claire had forgotten she’d even had it tucked away. Now it fit, just like her mother’s disappointment in life fit. Holding up her hand to view the grim thing, she saw the correlation to her mother’s impetus—a pretty, sparkling reminder that one could always choose.

‘Thank you, Corday.’

He took her hand again, stroked her fingers, and promised, ‘I want you to know that I understand the way you feel, but he’s right. If the Senator’s life was not gravely threatened, I don’t know if I would trust even him with you.’

Claire wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Why haven’t either of you asked me about Shepherd?’

Corday started to purr, scooting closer to put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Considering that you escaped once, anything he’d allowed you to hear may have been planted to mislead the resistance should you get free again. I hate to say it, but every move that monster makes is… brilliant. There is nothing you can give us.’

No one was on her side, and though she tried to hide her look of hurt, it didn’t matter. Corday saw.

She chose to tell him things anyway; she needed him to hear her. ‘He was born in the Undercroft, his mother incarcerated by Premier Callas. His lover’s name is Svana.’

The Beta listened, Claire’s words confirming what Brigadier Dane had conjectured. It would explain how Shepherd had been incarcerated off record, but the thought of a woman being thrown into that hell… that his own government had done such a thing, just could not be. Could it?

Claire continued, eyes far away as she blathered on. ‘Svana has an accent I’ve never heard before—like she’s not from here.’

‘There are a thousand kilometers of snow in every direction outside this Dome, Claire. Outsiders cannot wander in.’

‘Just like women cannot be thrown in the Undercroft and entire cities cannot fall overnight?’ To Claire it seemed there had to be more… dark truths about themselves that had to be recognized. Meeting her friend’s eyes, she confessed, ‘I don’t think Premier Callas was a good man… I’m afraid Shepherd’s harsh opinion of us might not be wrong.’

Corday’s arm tightened around her. ‘Are you saying you agree with him?’

‘No,’ she answered quickly. ‘No. Evil cannot change evil. Maybe his underlying motivation was once principled; I know he thinks it is, but it’s not.’

‘That’s right, Claire,’ Corday reaffirmed, worried to see her so lost. ‘Shepherd and his army are delusional.’

Cheek to his shoulder, she agreed, ‘Aren’t we all a little these days…’