Her breath fogged the black marble under her cheek, Shepherd petting her face as he continued his tirade—all of it so she could hear his voice and be still. He kept her there through the entirety of the knot, gauging each fleeting expression.
He’d manipulated her.
She knew it.
There was a flaw in the story he’d told to draw out her anger. “Corday would not turn on his people.”
Shepherd growled softly in her ear, “Don’t fight the knot, little one. Stop bearing down.”
Claire had not noticed her body’s rejection and drew a deep breath to regain control. “The counter is cold.”
A reassuring stroke warmed her from hip to shoulder.
In the glow of rough orgasm, her tension melted. “You can be a real prick sometimes, Shepherd.”
The purr magnified, cuddly Alpha monster settling over her. “Tell me that you love me.”
“I love you.” Claire sighed. “Don’t speak ill of Corday.”
Shepherd ground his hips against her rear, the Alpha purring, “I know a man full of rage when I see one. Another year or two, and he would make a good Follower.”
“Why tell me these things?”
“Because I love you.”Chapter 13Bernard Dome“You must forgive me for failing to greet you upon your arrival, Ambassador Havel.” Jacques had not dared bring the foreigner to his private apartments, choosing instead to meet with the Beta in the grandest palace sitting room. Cherubs cartwheeled overhead in a fresco that rumor suggested had been transported from the Vatican before the Dome was sealed. The furnishings were solid gold and rich light warmed the walls. It was a beautiful place where the Commodore had ordered the deaths of many rivals over the years. It was a room in which he’d killed seven of them personally. It was a room perfect for the coming conversation.
Before him stood a Beta with a muscular neck for his dynamic. A wise man would assume that under the ambassador’s clothes was the body of a conditioned soldier, that he was potentially dangerous… that he had been chosen not for his diplomatic abilities alone. Much could be hidden by a good tailor and a careful barbering. The male’s close cropped beard was immaculate, his brown hair short, tidy. Even his nails had been buffed. But when their hands met, calluses hardened the Beta’s palms, saying much while disclosing nothing.
“It is I who owe you the apology. I should have notified you that Vanessa was on the cusp of estrous. Considering your lack of Omegas here, I should have anticipated the ecstatic outcome of your man. May their newly forged pair-bond gratify them both.” Though his remark was fluently spoken in French, the words were clipped by a harsher accent. And even with his expression settled into a passive genteelness, Jules Havel lacked a smile.
Jacques’ shark smile was big enough for both of them. “The remaining females have been put away… out of enthusiastic reach until I decide what is to be done with them.”
“Of course. You must choose one for yourself. I had extensive dossiers prepared listing talents, traits, personality, family trees. Each lady is remarkable in her own way. There was a great deal of competition to be chosen to live in the beautiful Bernard Dome.”
And be mated to the most powerful males where they would live a life of spoiled luxury… or serve as spies.
“Greth must be rich in Omegas indeed. I have heard rumors that even your queen is Omega.”
Jules did not answer, choosing instead to turn his attention to the leather bound folder under his arm. “Her Majesty extends her personal greetings.”
Jacques refused the offered letter. “And Chancellor O’Donnell? Is that what he’s calling himself now?”
A dark eyebrow arched, Jules stone cold. “Would you prefer to know him as Shepherd? There is no need for us to pretend that Bernard Dome doesn’t control the functioning satellite systems and has some grasp of what happened in Thólos. The most dangerous man in the world knows you’re watching. He’s watching you too.”
Bluntness was seldom employed in Centrist society, yet greatly appreciated by the Commodore who’d rather not spend weeks on niceties and persuasion. “And sent you across the globe’s largest ocean to trade ten Omegas for orange trees…”
Hands folded at his back, Jules approached the window to look out over the beauty of the European city. “We possess the ships you lack. We have an entire ruin to loot for resources, making us capable of building anything we desire and going where we please. Bernard Dome’s stores are finite. We could change that. Shepherd is not looking for war. The war was won and it is over. Now he is looking for allies.”
“Against whom?”
Vibrant blue eyes cut across the room and seemed to look straight through Jacques. “Time. Inevitability.”
Jacques crossed an ankle over his knee, sitting back in his chair to ask, “Why orange trees?”
Jules’ expression did not betray the direction of his thoughts. “Our queen is very fond of them, and he is fond of pleasing her. It is the only thing he’s fond of. I suggest you remember that when dealing with him.”