"No." Her answer was harsh.
"Do not lie to me, little one. His situation mirrors yours."
"I said no because I meant no," Claire argued, grimacing at the stiffness in her hips when he began to rub. "You didn't drug me to keep me safe. You drugged me to create a baby."
He took her chin and turned her face up to force her full attention. "And that baby justifies your value to my men. It is keeping you alive."
Scowling, feeling cold even in the heat and steam of the shower, apprehension crept over Claire. "What do you mean?"
Seeing his words had unsettled her, Shepherd spoke in a hard tone. "If you are not careful, if you do not begin to nest again and ensure that our offspring grows, should you miscarry… I would have to replace it immediately."
A look of horror twisted her face. "I don't understand."
"You don't need to. You simply need to be a mother." Shifting his mass, he pressed her back to the tiles. "You are mine, and I will do anything to ensure your continued survival. I would kill millions, I would lie to you, and I would rape you if I had to and fill you with child again should you lose this one."
How had she felt even a moment of power over this man? "You're scaring me."
"Good." He turned off the water and pulled her out. "It seems to be the only way to get through to you."
"What about your legacy?"
He smiled, a nasty thing, and pawed her belly. "It will be unparalleled."
Wilting, Claire muttered, "I have no urge to nest. Not in that bed. Not anymore."
As if the idea had not occurred to the Alpha, he narrowed his eyes and seemed to consider. "You wish for a new bed?"
"I do not wish for anything," Claire sighed, feeling again as if she was talking to a wall.
Shepherd continued, speaking to himself. "If I procured this new bed, you would nest."
Desperately uneasy, she growled. "You are not listening to me, Shepherd."
"And you would desire new materials, in that color you like…" He was running a towel over her skin as if insensible to her bruised skin.
She snarled and batted his hands away. "You're hurting me, you deaf jackass."
Snapped out of his tirade, he froze and looked at the small thing that had just barked at him. Snorting a caustic laugh, he grunted, "You have grown far more outspoken with pregnancy."
"I have grown far more outspoken because I no longer care if you kill me! I don't want a new bed. I want you to explain what the fuck you are talking about!"
Shepherd took her arm and gently turned her so that he might pat her hair dry. "You are only being difficult… you need a new bed."
"Okay, fine! Since you don't listen to a goddamn thing I say anyway, here goes: I want a new bed in a big room with carpet instead of concrete. A room with a wall of windows that overlook a garden I planted full of flowers—which would be a miracle, as every houseplant I ever had died. I want to move without restriction through this grand house I will be nesting in, and be free to go outside and sit on grass… And I want a pony too, Shepherd. No, forget that. I want a fucking unicorn."
Pulling her hair so that she had to look back at him, he scowled. "You may not have a pony, and unicorns don't exist."
She really didn't mean to, was so in knots inside she could not even begin to fathom where it came from, but just for a second, she giggled. Slapping a hand over her mouth, still stuck with her head leaning back at an unnatural angle, she forced her face into neutrality and continued to make her point. "What color is it that you are so certain I like?"
"You prefer green, the same shade as your eyes."
Was that why almost every single dress he'd provided was green? "What gave you that idea?"
He looked as if such a miscalculation was not possible. "That is not the color you favor?"
"Sure, it's a pretty color… but it's not my favorite color." Understanding, Claire narrowed her eyes and leveled a disapproving gaze at the man. "Let me guess, you got this information from your interrogations of the Omegas."
"Red, like your picture?" he tried again, letting go of her hair so she might turn and he could see her fully.
"No. Why didn't you just ask me if you wanted to know something so mundane?" But then it dawned on her. He wanted to provide things she was supposed to like without prompting… as a tactic of sorts; because that was the only way he knew how to be.
Shepherd grew aggravated, standing naked and demanding rudely, "What is your favorite color?"