Page 39 of Born to be Broken

Though his expression did not change, Claire was certain he was satisfied with her reaction to his offering.

Elbow on his knee, Shepherd watched her savor her drink. “Maryanne Cauley is in the Citadel as we speak.”

Cup rattled against saucer, and the moment of coffee-induced comfort was gone. “You promised me you would not hurt her.”

“And I have not.” Shepherd’s eyebrow arched. “But I will if she is here in some attempt to steal you from me.”

“Considering how you collected me, I doubt anyone even knows I am here.” Claire turned belligerent. “I came with you willingly to respect my end of the bargain, and I will not attempt to leave so long as you respect yours.”

The purr came and so did a pet down her hair. “That is all I wanted to hear.”

Claire looked to one side, debating. “Could I speak with her?”

Of course Shepherd was going to deny the request, he knew she knew that. With a deep sigh he took her empty cup and saucer away. “I do not wish to argue with you.”

“Then you may as well go back to torturing Thólos, and I will sit here like a good captive and stare at the walls.”

He shifted, leaned closer while Claire pressed herself further into the pillows. His lips brushed hers as he asked, “What is your connection to Miss Cauley?”

So close, Claire felt… torn. “Maryanne was my best friend when we were children.”

He stroked her arm as if rewarding good behavior. “I find that difficult to believe. The woman is a thief and a prostitute.”

“Like you,” Claire said, frowning, “she too was once innocent… Though, unlike you, I think she is trying to be good now. She is just not very confident in the pursuit.”

“You are the one to hold all the goodness, and I will hold all the power,” Shepherd purred, leaving a lingering, and ignored, kiss on her slack lips.

“As you say,” Claire responded, her voice flat once he disengaged.

“Are you sore”—his fingers dipped under the covers to brush over her mound—“here?”

Any second he would make the growl and she would be spread under his rutting body. “Does it matter?”

The hand left her. Shepherd brushed the pout on her lips. “You will rest today. Food will be sent. If I find out you have not eaten, one of your forty-three will pay for it.”

“You do not need to threaten them.” Claire did not want to play such games. “I gave you my word.”

“That pleases me, little one.” Shepherd was so damn confident as he shifted from the bed.

He gave her a long look while she slipped back under the covers for more rest, then left silently, turning off the light.

The next time she woke, food was waiting on the table. She showered and dressed in one of the feminine dresses Shepherd seemed to think she should wear, and looked at eggs benedict. He had a chef somewhere in the compound just to make her food. She wanted to roll her eyes at the strangeness of the long ignored gesture, but had noticed it almost from the start. Canned veggies and mass-produced meat products had transformed into satisfying cuisine only a week or so after she had first arrived. The confirmation should not have mattered, but it bothered her that he had mentioned it, and now it had to be addressed.

What bothered her more was that the chef was probably safer down there than above ground. Claire even suspected he or she had been taken from the Premier’s mansion. Shepherd was a thorough man. He would only take someone renowned… a celebrity. And he had done it to please her.

Claire ate every bite of that food, though it was too rich and her stomach was bound to rebel. The vitamin followed, and all the milk was drunk. Of course she threw it all up about thirty minutes later, but that could not be helped.

Customary pacing came next, her only form of exercise. Matters needed to be sorted now that her thinking had grown sharper. Shepherd knew of the Omegas, of Corday, and of Maryanne—the Alpha female having been the only one on her list that he was not previously aware of. The real question was how had Shepherd found her, which part of the branch had been first observed? Considering when he had come, it seemed that the answer was Corday. Which meant Shepherd would undermine every move of the resistance.

The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. - Sun Tzu

Shepherd had infiltrated the Enforcers… but it would have had to have been very recently. Otherwise she would have been collected that very first night.

Claire’s bare feet stopped their limping shuffle, and she stood there, worrying her lip. The grate of the deadbolt drew her attention. The door swung in and Jules, bearing a tray, entered.

The blue-eyed Beta did not seem interested in acknowledging her presence, so she spoke instead. “Hello, Jules.”

The trays were swapped and he grunted, “You did well outside the Undercroft.”