by Addison Cain
She had been ordered to serve as head of this puppet resistance, a great many of those who followed her having no idea a shadow organization had sprung up within their numbers.
Day in and day out, Corday did his duty, and day in and day out the resistance grew weaker while the rebellion grew stronger.
Unlike Brigadier Dane, Corday had been back inside the Premier’s Sector more than once to confer with Lady Kantor. Each time he’d returned, those who had been chosen, seemed more like Followers and less like citizens. There was a fire in their eyes when they looked to their leader, a zealotry that made Corday nervous.
All in the name of progress...
Leslie had taken to the dead Premier’s desk. His office had become hers, even though not all the bloodstains could be removed from the wallpaper or carpet. She always smiled when he entered; she always stood from her chair, circled the desk, and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.
“I am so glad to see you, Corday. What news have you brought?”
“Fifteen of our men died last night trying to procure a shipment of food.” He wasn’t talking about the soldiers she had gathered around her. He was talking about the original supporters of the resistance who were still in the dark about what was going on here. “Shepherd’s men defended their cache. Every case of fresh produce made it into the Citadel.”
“They didn’t die for nothing, dear Corday.” Leslie put a hand to his cheek; she offered an expression of deep sadness. “They served as a distraction so my team might acquire a great deal of fertilizer left forgotten on the farm levels. Our first mission was successful. Those men and women’s sacrifice will be remembered.”
No one had discussed this with him. How could she knowingly have let him lead his men to their death? “A team left here on your orders?”
Smiling, Leslie nodded. “Yes, a small squad, hand-selected by me. I trust them implicitly; last night each one of them proved they were worthy of that faith. Soon, we will have everything we need to craft military-grade explosives.”
There was one major impediment to Lady Kantor’s grand scheme, one Corday could not be quiet about. “We still do not know the location of the virus.”
“Your men have scoured the city with nothing to show for it for almost a year. Shepherd must keep it in the Citadel. We burn that building to ash, set off enough explosives to incinerate everything inside, the virus will be destroyed. Wasting time searching, as my uncle did, got us nowhere.” She took his hand, squeezing his fingers as she led him to sit so she might serve him a drink. “The true rebellion is about action.”
Watching her pour coffee from a china pot into a decorative cup, Corday wondered if she knew how ridiculous such an act of congenial etiquette was when they were talking of inciting a massacre.
If the plan was successful, several city structures would collapse, burn, bury people alive. Tens of thousands could die. But, if Shepherd’s regime fell, millions more would live.
Corday didn’t want the coffee, he didn’t want to sit in a lavish bloodstained room. He wanted his people to be free. “Claire is in the Citadel. You gave me your word that no attack would commence until she was rescued.”
Nodding, Leslie considered, offering an alternative. “The classified data cubes housed here have blueprints of the Citadel, the underground, even the Undercroft. Take them, study them, chose the most likely locations she might be held. On the day of the attack, I’ll send teams ahead of the blast. It will be a coordinated effort.”
Spinning the golden ring on his finger, twisting it around and around, Corday turned his furious attention to facts. Should the plan succeed, when Claire learned what Corday had agreed to be a part of, she would never forgive him. But if it worked... she would be free. The survivors in the city would be free.
Whispering, aware what she offered was a monstrosity, the beauty urged, “Asking our men to divert their attention from freeing their families to rescue a woman many here see as a traitor would undermine our mission. This is the best I can offer you. Sacrifices must be made, Corday. I think even your Claire would understand that.”
Taking her seat behind the desk, Lady Kantor became nothing but business. “Now, I will be honest with you. You may find things on this data cube you’d rather not know. Don’t dig too deep. Keep to the maps.”
Claire lay fast asleep when Jules’ voice sounded beyond Shepherd’s door. The Alpha had worn her out as he was wont to do. Knowing she was unconscious when he was called away was a small relief in the storming sea of Shepherd’s growing agitation at the interruption.
Jules had not tried to contact him via COMscreen. There was only one reason the Beta would have dared approach and physically knock on the door: Svana.
Slipping silently from the room to see Jules waiting in the hall, Shepherd scowled. His second-in-command stood with many soldiers, ordering them to take up guard outside Shepherd’s door as if war threatened from above.
There was also something very disturbing about the set of Jules mouth when he spoke. “Svana is on the premises. She waits to parlay with you.”
The Beta’s word choice was utterly unamusing. As if Claire might hear through the reinforced steel vault she was locked inside, Shepherd spoke lowly in their shared language. “She has been off the grid, out of range of your trackers for weeks. Describe her approach, was it elusive? Apparent?”
“I have yet to decipher her point of origin, but I can tell you, she was first spotted in the GW94 tunnel walking from east quadrant. She wanted to be seen.”
Considering how long she had been punishing them with her absence, Shepherd had some choice words to share with the Alpha female. “Did she bring the virus?”
Jules fell into step with his leader, blank and focused. “If it’s on her person, it remains unseen.”
Looking to the COMscreen offered by his second-in-command, Shepherd watched a feed of Svana fingering through schematics spread on the main table of the Followers’ Command Center.
“It’s unorthodox. Spying on your men will lead them to believe you don’t trust them.” Shepherd wanted to be angry. More so, he wanted to not feel relief his second had acted in such a subversive manner.
Jules didn’t trust Svana and it was no secret. He was thoroughly unapologetic. “There is nothing in that room I have not anticipated she might see.”
Shepherd grunted, the noise deep in his throat. It was neither an affirmation nor a negation.
The way the Alpha female had crept down there with no fanfare, spoke volumes. There was a reason Svana had breached the underground, and it wasn’t to speak with him. She wanted something. “You will wait outside while I speak to her.”
Jules turned down the corners of his mouth. “Understood, sir.”
Shepherd was not finished. “But you will watch and listen through the COMscreen. I doubt she would suspect you would plant surveillance equipment in your own Command Center, especially since we know the resistance has partial access to our communications network.”
“When I heard she was in our halls, surveillance equipment was not the only thing I planted in the room. I placed a micro-tracker on her person.”
Shepherd had suspected what the Beta had done before Jules had confessed. “We will discuss what you’ve done later. For now, don’t make me feel my faith in you has been misplaced.”
Buried deep in his expression, was a small sliver of hurt. “Brother, I am loyal to you, always. Which is why I am telling you now, do not allow her to leave that room.”
Shepherd made his final point before reaching for the door to his Command Center and leaving the Beta in the hall. “Svana killed Kantor. It’s done and cannot be changed. So remember, without her compliance, we cannot subvert the population of Greth Dome. Without her, not one of your brothers will know freedom. You, we all, need her.”
The hinges moved smoothly, even for a door of such size. As he had been ordered, Jules remained in the hall, cut off from his leader, glaring down at a dissatisfying exchange on his
COMscreen.
Door sealed tightly behind him, Shepherd took a deep breath, and looked over his statuesque beloved. Glowing with health was such a cliché term, but it fit Svana well.
“Svana, you have been missed.”
Her dark hair was loose, glossy, and clean. She pulled it over her shoulder as if to display its beauty, offering a soft smile. “I knew you’d be angry I was gone for so long.”
Cocking a brow, Shepherd asked, “Was it your intention for me to worry?”
“No.” She shook her head, contrite, her usual imperiousness waning. “Beloved, we quarreled. It was my fault. I know that now. Once I had some time to think, I realized a verbal apology would not be enough. So I have crafted something valuable to offer you.”
Shepherd thought to lecture. “The murder of Senator Kantor was unwise.”
Her laughter trilled, china blue eyes aglow. “On that point, I disagree with you. His death was necessary, though I won’t pretend I didn’t enjoy it.”
There was no immediate rebuttal or argument, not from the Alpha male. Shepherd kept his silence until even Svana began to grow uncomfortable in the lengthening quiet. Not once did he move his eyes from her face, not once did he blink, he only waited for the inevitable.
When she began to look uneasy, he said, “Your actions prove redundant and provocative. You now owe Jules a debt you will never be able to repay him.” Shepherd, fisted the collar of his coat. He measured his words. “We had already infiltrated the resistance. How does removing an advantageous pawn help our goal?”
“How does it not?” Svana walked closer, as if she expected to be praised. “His murder coupled with my manipulation of those fools, has caused our only opposition to disintegrate. As of now, they are powerless, scattered, and dying. I did that for you.”
Shepherd crossed his great arms over his chest and scowled. “Svana, your role in our coup was to hold the virus and keep it safe. Furthermore, endangering yourself in an attempt to dismantle an organization I allowed to exist is, in fact, subversive to our cause. The resistance offered a rabid population just enough hope to keep them lazy and waiting to be saved. If they have no souls fighting for them, they will begin to fight for themselves.”
Svana was done playing, done trying to smooth over their dispute. Her voice grew hard. “They already have begun to fight for themselves. Your Omega stirred up the city with her flyer. Rebel recruitment increased, as did guerrilla attacks. Thousands of people keep her image in their pockets.”
Cocking a single brow, Shepherd warned. “I caution you. Desperate Thólosens are nothing more than a pack of ravenous dogs. Remember, we are outnumbered and cannot leave until satellite imaging shows a storm free environment over the Drake Passage. Considering the season, our exodus could be months away. Do not stir up trouble.”
Svana threw up her hands, half in defeat, half in exasperation. “I did not come here to argue with you. I came here to warn you.” Reaching into her coat, the woman produced a packet of hand written notes. “You need to protect yourself.”
Shepherd took the offered papers, and found the photograph of a man he despised. Shepherd hesitated, his eyes drawn to the circle of red marker around Corday’s hand.
“Enforcer Corday wears a woman’s gold band on his smallest finger.” Svana’s nonchalance slipped, her voice hinged on desperate. “Every time he hears the name Claire, or talks about her, he touches it, toys with it. When I asked him about the ring, he confessed. Has your Omega told you she’s betrothed to him? Has she told you he promised her he’d end your life? Remember that while you are enraptured by your pair-bond, she has appointed another man to kill you.”
Seeing her china blue eyes looking over him with pity and disappointment burned. Shepherd swallowed, squared his shoulders, pretended he did not feel a knife slice straight through his heart, and lied. “She told me. The confession was... cathartic.”
“I see...” Svana braved placing a hand on Shepherd’s chest, stroking up to touch the bare skin of his neck. “I am begging for you to forgive me, my love. Look through the information I have brought, do what you will with it. Please remember what we are to one another.”
His voice, it came out worn and sad. “I never forgot, Svana.”
“I know you are going to ask me where the virus is, and you expect I have been keeping it from you—that I will continue to keep it from you, as if we are in opposition and not partners looking to build a great future together.” Heartache was open in her voice, in her expression, and falling in liquid testament from her eyes. “In order to reaffirm what we are, I’ve brought it. It’s yours.”
Reaching into the layers of her clothing, Svana produced a biohazard banded cylinder, the thing so small and unassuming, it was hard to believe what that little device was truly capable of. Inside something smaller than Svana’s fist lurked a nightmare, the very disease that almost eradicated the entire human race.
She offered it freely, her one bargaining chip gone. “Take it, my love. I don’t want you to have reason to doubt me.”
The cylinder was placed in his hand. Closing his fist around it, Shepherd sighed. “When you act on your own without talking with me, I fear for you. It was not a question of doubt.”
Voice dropping to a whisper, Svana’s eyes shifted to the man’s scarred lips. “I wish I could kiss you.”
The tension softened in Shepherd’s face; he smirked. “I will kiss you the day you take your throne and free our people.”
“Yes, that will do.” A warm smile on her mouth, Svana slipped away and eased towards the door. “Goodbye, Shepherd.”
The virus now in his power, he let her go. “Goodbye, Svana.”
It was three minutes before Jules dared enter. “She’s gone, spotted above ground moving east.”
Once the door was sealed, Shepherd looked to his second-in-command and saw that the Beta fully understood what had just happened. The Alpha cracked his neck, the man miserable under a stone-faced façade. “Have this analyzed to confirm the virus is inside and the containment untampered with.”
Jules displayed the depth of his feelings in one infinitesimal hitch of his brow. “You lied to her.”
Yes, Shepherd had lied to her, because Svana had lied to him first. “Have this room swept for surveillance equipment you did not plant. The guard stays outside my room, even when I am there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 4
While folding laundry, Claire sensed the link chime like soft bells. The sensation was a fair deal calmer than the inferno she’d felt over the last hour. Shepherd had been exceptionally angry, Claire was relieved he’d gone and that the rage was not directed towards her.
And then she’d worried something was terribly wrong. Misgivings came with the manipulation of the pair-bond. Worse was the doubt. Claire never did know just what stirred him up, and they both knew he’d remain mute to her questions. He never told her anything about how his time was spent tormenting Thólos... as if she’d forget what he was.
A warm hand slid down her flank. “You are thinking of me.”
Claire jumped under the unexpected contact, yelping as her heart leapt into her throat. Since she’d bitten him, he had taken to sneaking up on her, lingering in the shadows... watching her. It was always unsettling, Claire unsure if he’d been doing so all along.
Now, the link was open—he could not hide from her.
“If your plan is to murder me by scaring me to death, you’re on the right track!” Claire glared over her shoulder, barking, “I should sneak up on you and see how much you like it...”
His lips were against her crown, the beast all grumbly and soothing. “You would never be successful in such an endeavor.”
One hand cupping the subtle bump of her belly, Shepherd enfolded her in his embrace, offering a treat on the palm of his other hand.
She snatched it at once, shoving a chocolate in her mouth, all the while arguing, “I might not be as sneaky as you, but I am a lot faster.”
<
br /> “Yes.” Shepherd grew marginally annoyed at the reminder. “You are very fast. A good trait for an Omega. Gloating, however, is less desirable. Eat your chocolate.”
And there was that other new thing, the smirk he was learning to inspire. Claire popped another truffle between her lips, slaked and impish. “So you are trying to feed me candy until I’m fat and slow?”
Shepherd purred, enticing the Omega when he rolled his groin against her. “My mate is a glutton, but I exercise her often.”
Mouth full, Claire argued. “Sex is not exercise.”
Shepherd nestled closer, thoroughly pleased she’d engaged in a playful back and forth, and very eager to reward her. Or he was, until Claire backed away, her scent suddenly laced with sharp anxiety.
Shepherd watched her fidget and dart her eyes to every corner, he watched her waver between anger and alarm.
Distraction typically realigned his mate, and he was perfectly comfortable with manipulation when the outcome would make her calm. Maintaining the distance she’d put between them, Shepherd cocked his head. “What have you painted today?”
Claire waved towards the table so that he might look for himself before she began to sniff at the air.
Keeping his eye on the woman, Shepherd approached her work. A cursory glance went over what was splashed on the paper. He saw her point of view of the very afternoon he’d first laid eyes on her. She’d painted him to be monstrously large, herself small, draped in rags, holding a bottle of pills. Jules stood sentry, his cool-eyed disdain captured perfectly. Every detail was beautifully done. He would have told her so, but in his heart, Shepherd knew his appreciation of that moment was not what she’d hoped to encourage.
His pleasure would inspire her pain. Claire only ever wanted him to see more and be moved to change. He already was more—a great deal more.
He waited for Claire to make her speech, to offer her insight and whatever lesson she’d cooked up all the hours he was away. Instead, she ignored him, nervously toying with the bedding.