The longer she walked the length of the room, the more she wanted out of it.
She ran to the door and tried the knob, knowing it would be locked but needing to feel the immovable metal with her own fingers. The cry she made was unavoidable; a sad whimper of someone who'd hoped; someone on the verge of panic. She was a prisoner bound to a man she did not know; hungry, scared, and suffering an unwelcome thread that would not stop existing no matter how hard she willed it away.
By the time her captor returned, Claire was stretched out on the floor, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes.
"You have been distressed," Shepherd grunted, sniffing the air. "Because you are hungry?"
Blinking at the ceiling, wondering if he could feel just what she was thinking at that moment, Claire glanced past his massive legs to the door that was now unlocked, and imagined she might make a run for it. That freedom was hers.
"I see," he growled, eyes narrowed to slits.
As the breath left her lungs, she admitted, "I am very hungry."
Crouching over her, he found her green eyes had shifted under her scowl. "You woke sooner than I anticipated."
There were a million things she wanted to shout. Instead, all she did was give a forlorn sigh. "I don't know what time of day it is."
"It is the midday hour. Food will arrive shortly."
"Grand." Claire's attention went back to the cement ceiling.
The male went so far as to run his fingers over her pouting lips. "Do you have any desire to mate?"
"I do not," she answered quickly, still frightened from the last painful coupling. It was all Claire could do to fight the urge to scoot away, certain it would only entice him to chase and do it again.
Small crinkles formed at the corner of Shepherd's eyes, the bastard was smug. The softest of purrs began, and in answer, her scowl somewhat lessened. The unconscious reaction annoyed her, even more so when his hand burrowed into her hair, pulling gently at the roots, and her eyes mechanically closed with the wave of contentment that came with each little tug.
By the time a sharp knock came to the door, she was a puddle on the floor.
Shepherd called for the familiar Beta to enter, continuing to pet his female while his Follower set out a tray. Claire wondered if he did it just to make a point to another nearby male, to be possessive, or simply because it seemed to appease her. Probably all three.
They were alone again. The giant gave her a nudge to open her eyes, cocking his head toward the table. "Eat."
He insisted on helping her stand, making her touch him more than she wanted. Glancing at the delicious smelling tray, Claire found that there was only food for her. Throughout the meal, he watched her as one watches prey, noting the minutiae of her movements. She didn't like canned green beans, but she ate what was given. She hummed at the taste of ham. The glass of milk made her lips curl just a little.
There was a pill on the side of the tray, a thing she had seen, then forgotten—too caught up in an actual warm meal. Shepherd's large fingers pinched it and held it out for her to take.
"What is that?" Claire asked, covering her mouth as she spoke.
"You are deficient in many nutrients from starvation and recent estrous."
There was no point in arguing. Whether it was a vitamin or poison, if he wanted her to take it, it would be a simple thing for him to force.
As she swallowed the tablet, Shepherd said, "The blue pills I found in your coat pocket. Do you know what they were?"
Disgust was clear in her expression. "They were supposed to be heat-suppressants—cost me a week's worth of food. I had been taking them for days before I came to the Citadel to beg for your help. Clearly, they didn't work, and you didn't help, either. So... as far as I see it, they were a bad joke."
Reaching across the table for her free hand, Shepherd wrapped his great paw around her wrist. All he need do was squeeze and her bones would be crushed and broken. She took it as a subtle warning to watch her tongue.
Tracing his thumb over her pulse, he explained, "I had a lab analyze your pills. They were quite the opposite, little one—designed to prompt your heat-cycle."
Opposite? Fertility drugs... Other girls in hiding had been taking those pills. Dozens of the Omegas could have gone into heat unexpectedly, exposed, just as she had been. That was exactly the point he was trying to make.
With her head in her hand, she heard him outline precisely what she was already thinking. "Someone clever is using your needs to hunt down the Omegas, knowing the females taking those pills will anticipate their effectiveness and go into heat out in the open. And like you, they will be mobbed, hunted down, or taken."