He had won; his mate was allowing their bond to soothe her."Gimme your foot," Maryanne barked, shaking a little bottle in her hand with quick jerks of her wrist.
Stuffed full of cake—a huge tiered thing, frosted bird's egg blue and beautifully decorated, a cake that could feed half of Shepherd's army… that even after their brutal attack on it could still feed half of Shepherd's army—the friends lounged and played at girly things.
Smiling, sitting slumped in her chair, Claire picked up one bare foot and stretched it over to set in her friend's lap. "Why am I not surprised the color you brought is vampy red?"
Maryanne brushed a careful line of paint over Claire's big toe, smirking. "Too sexy for prudish little Claire?"
"Says the girl who slept with every boy we knew…"
"After I left, did you ever cave in and date that that Seymour guy? He had such a crush on you."
Claire groaned and rolled her eyes. "Gods no. I had my dad chase him off when he started sniffing around the house."
Playful eyes glanced up, Maryanne motioning for the other foot. "What about boys in higher academy?"
Claire shook her head. "I was focused on my studies."
"After academy?"
"Geez, you make me sound so boring!"
"So only Shepherd, huh?" Maryanne pretended to focus on her work, spreading the crimson paint carefully. "That's kinda too bad. I mean, think about it. If you have only slept with Shepherd you have nothing to compare it to. He could be awful and you would never know. I bet you wish you'd experimented now…"
Laughing so hard it hurt, Claire struggled to say, "Stop antagonizing him!"
"That's what he gets for eavesdropping on girl talk. There are reasons why women congregate without men… so we can make fun of them."
Claire was still laughing, green eyes dancing while innocent Maryanne blew on her toes. "What other interesting things do you have in your pockets?"
"Look who wants presents?" the blonde sang, reaching into her coat for a tube of lipstick.
Unscrewing the lid, Maryanne made a face like an artist creating a masterpiece. Claire leaned forward, puckered, and let her stain her lips a rich berry red.
"Well, I'm not going to lie," Maryanne shrugged, unimpressed. "It's a little trampy on you, but Shepherd might like it."
"It's the same color you're wearing!" Claire snorted, snatching the tube from Maryanne's hands. "I had a lipstick like this once, never had a place to wear it."
"What do you mean place to wear it? You just wear it," her friend replied, settling back in her chair.
Claire's soft smile was gently reprimanding. "That's easy for you to say, Alpha. If you draw attention, being as pretty as you are, you don't have to worry about potential complications."
Yawning, Maryanne shrugged. "That is just silly, Claire—and paranoid. It's just lipstick. And I guess you don't have to worry about that anymore. Ain't no one gonna to be messing with Shepherd's old lady."
Green eyes grew sad. "That's not what I hear is going on outside…"
"What do you mean?"
A guilt-ridden voice confessed, "Women who look like me… because of my flyer."
"You told her about that?" Maryanne snarled at the hostile male watching from the corner. "What is wrong with you?"
Claire could not see his reaction to her friend's outburst, but knew it couldn't be good. She interjected, "I am not a child, Maryanne. I asked, and he told me the truth."
Maryanne had her own harsh take on things. "None of that was your fault, you know. I thought the flyer was pretty ballsy, but you've got to get it through your thick skull, girl. Thólos is a bad place full of bad people."
"People can change," Claire breathed, knowing it had to be true.
Maryanne cocked a brow and made a hard point. "Do you think Shepherd can change?"
The Omega tilted her head, thinking about it before looking over her shoulder. Her eyes met Shepherd's.
He glanced down at her stained lips, seemingly intrigued.
Standing, she walked, careless of her newly lacquered toes, and went to stand before the male. So many contradictory thoughts were running through her head. His behavior towards her had changed, was far more palatable, but all of that could easily be summed up as an insincere strategy to gain her affection. After all, she was certain there had been no change in him outside their den or in his dealings with Thólos.
When her small hand reached up and the female cupped his cheek, Shepherd allowed it, unmoving as she stood between his spread legs. His silver eyes shone, focused and pleased with her attention in front of the Alpha female.
Claire pulled in a breath as if to speak, then hesitated, pouting her red lips until he purred and the back of his warm fingers stroked over her belly.
The question was for herself. "Could Shepherd change?"
It was all there in her expression—how badly she wished he could change. How hard she had tried to affect something in him. Whispering, her voice as soft as the fingertips that touched the flesh of his cheek, Claire asked, "Could you change?"