Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
"Kneel."
The pressure of Shepherd's hand gently suggested she follow the order on her own, or he would press her down. Degraded, she went to her knees and looked up into his silver eyes, her lower lip trembling, certain he would punish her for thinking such dark thoughts.
When all he did was take her head and put it in his lap, she breathed out in relief. He petted her as he worked, Claire silently crying onto the fabric at his thigh, confoundedly comforted as he played with her hair.
There was a knock at the door. Surprised, she moved to get up. With a hand on the back of her neck, Shepherd kept her as she was, barking for the caller to enter. She should have known... it was all just a show for when his Follower came to call.
Until that moment, no one had been in the room, no one had seen what she had become. Peeking for just a second, she saw the same Beta from the first day. The men spoke in a coarse language that meant nothing to her, Claire's face pressed against Shepherd's thigh.
The meeting extended until her knees began to ache, that weight ruffling the hair at the back of her skull never giving an inch. Placing her hand at Shepherd's thigh, she scratched gently to get his attention, aware that if she pushed away, he would retaliate—especially as another male was watching.
"Shepherd," Claire whispered his name against his leg, intruding in the men's conversation.
It had worked. The hand on her skull stroked down and lifted her chin until their eyes met. "Yes, little one?"
He looked clinically focused, and she was unsure if interrupting had been such a good idea. "My knees—"
Shepherd simply pulled her up to his lap and began absently rubbing her kneecaps, continuing the conversation with his officer as if it were nothing. Her face flaming, Claire was unsure which was worse; kneeling at his feet like a dog, or being forced to sit on his lap like a child. If either man noticed her discomfort, it was not addressed.
The Omega looked to the Beta, measured his stiff posture and unsmiling face, noting how his attention never darted her way. He was much smaller than Shepherd, hardly taller than her, but seemed to have a whipcord quality to him that made Claire suspect he was very dangerous.
The meeting drew to a conclusion, and for a split-second the man's vibrant baby-blues flicked toward her.
Shepherd growled so aggressively Claire jumped. The Follower bowed, a submissive stance, and left without another word.
Already pawing at her, turning her startled face toward his, Shepherd forced his Omega to meet flared iron eyes. She saw intense possession, the kind that made her stomach knot. Those hands, so large, began to rub, arranging her just as he wanted—stroking a breast, his scarring mark on her shoulder, circling her neck.
"Why were you looking at him?" It was spoken lowly, heavily laced with disapproval.
Claire answered, a line growing between her brows. "I have not seen anyone else in... I don't even know how long I have been locked in here."
"So you find it acceptable to openly stare at other males?"
Her scowl deepened, her voice confused. "Yes..."
Shepherd barked, his scarred lips snarling, "Your behavior is unacceptable. I gave you paints; you didn't thank me. I gave you comfort; you stared at the Beta."
Claire snapped. "I don't want fucking paints! I don't want to bow at your feet and be held like a pet on your lap. I want to go home! I want my life back!"
Angry, he shoved her off his thigh, letting her topple to the floor. Landing on her hip, she looked up, big eyes wide in her pale face. Everything in the cord between them was jostled badly... worse than her bones from the fall. The mountain was furious, slowly rising to his feet before her.
He looked about ready to crush her and she closed her eyes tight, anticipating the blow, welcoming an end to it all. There was silence, only the sound of her labored breath. Ten seconds passed and no move was made; and when she finally cracked open an eye, Claire found she was alone. Shepherd had left her so soundlessly that not even the creaking door had dared whine.
Letting out a puff of air, she sagged back against the floor, her heart hammering away. It hit her then.—there had been no slide of a metallic bolt shutting her in.
The door might be unlocked.
Panicked, totally shaken by the look of murder in her mate's eyes—not mate, she reminded herself—Shepherd's eyes. She stood and ran for the exit. Pulling the lever, it mercifully turned, and an empty hallway was right there before her.
Left or right? She didn't know the way, but she smelled Shepherd's scent clearly in one direction and bolted like a frightened rabbit down the opposite path. Before the city fell, she had run often around Thólos' many parks; not just for exercise, but to ensure she would be faster than any that might try to catch her. The weeks of lockup had done little to her speed. She ignored the painful thud of her bare feet against the floors. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her breath ragged as she tried to keep inhalations to a runner's steady rhythm. Twisting and turning, she followed the sound of water. She found a ladder and flew up the rungs, oblivious to the sound of men's shouting voices, unaware of the dash of Followers trailing behind her. She flipped a hatch, eyes blinded by her first glimpse of bright sunlight in weeks, and scrambled out of the darkness.