Born to Be Bound (6 page)

The meeting extended until her knees began to ache, that weight ruffling the hair at the back of her skull never giving an inch. Placing her hand at Shepherd's thigh, she scratched gently to get his attention, aware that if she pushed away, he would retaliate—especially as another male was watching.

"Shepherd," Claire whispered his name against his leg, intruding in the men's conversation.

It had worked. The hand on her skull stroked down and lifted her chin until their eyes met. "Yes, little one?"

He looked clinically focused, and she was unsure if interrupting had been such a good idea. "My knees—"

Shepherd simply pulled her up to his lap and began absently rubbing her kneecaps, continuing the conversation with his officer as if it were nothing. Her face flaming, Claire was unsure which was worse; kneeling at his feet like a dog, or being forced to sit on his lap like a child. If either man noticed her discomfort, it was not addressed.

The Omega looked to the Beta, measured his stiff posture and unsmiling face, noting how his attention never darted her way. He was much smaller than Shepherd, hardly taller than her, but seemed to have a whipcord quality to him that made Claire suspect he was very dangerous.

The meeting drew to a conclusion, and for a split-second the man's vibrant baby-blues flicked toward her.

Shepherd growled so aggressively Claire jumped. The Follower bowed, a submissive stance, and left without another word.

Already pawing at her, turning her startled face toward his, Shepherd forced his Omega to meet flared iron eyes. She saw intense possession, the kind that made her stomach knot. Those hands, so large, began to rub, arranging her just as he wanted—stroking a breast, his scarring mark on her shoulder, circling her neck.

"Why were you looking at him?" It was spoken lowly, heavily laced with disapproval.

Claire answered, a line growing between her brows. "I have not seen anyone else in... I don't even know how long I have been locked in here."

"So you find it acceptable to openly stare at other males?"

Her scowl deepened, her voice confused. "Yes..."

Shepherd barked, his scarred lips snarling, "Your behavior is unacceptable. I gave you paints; you didn't thank me. I gave you comfort; you stared at the Beta."

Claire snapped. "I don't want fucking paints! I don't want to bow at your feet and be held like a pet on your lap. I want to go home! I want my life back!"

Angry, he shoved her off his thigh, letting her topple to the floor. Landing on her hip, she looked up, big eyes wide in her pale face. Everything in the cord between them was jostled badly... worse than her bones from the fall. The mountain was furious, slowly rising to his feet before her.

He looked about ready to crush her and she closed her eyes tight, anticipating the blow, welcoming an end to it all. There was silence, only the sound of her labored breath. Ten seconds passed and no move was made; and when she finally cracked open an eye, Claire found she was alone. Shepherd had left her so soundlessly that not even the creaking door had dared whine.

Letting out a puff of air, she sagged back against the floor, her heart hammering away. It hit her then.—there had been no slide of a metallic bolt shutting her in.

The door might be unlocked.

Panicked, totally shaken by the look of murder in her mate's eyes—
not mate
, she reminded herself—Shepherd's eyes. She stood and ran for the exit. Pulling the lever, it mercifully turned, and an empty hallway was right there before her.

Left or right? She didn't know the way, but she smelled Shepherd's scent clearly in one direction and bolted like a frightened rabbit down the opposite path. Before the city fell, she had run often around Thólos' many parks; not just for exercise, but to ensure she would be faster than any that might try to catch her. The weeks of lockup had done little to her speed. She ignored the painful thud of her bare feet against the floors. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her breath ragged as she tried to keep inhalations to a runner's steady rhythm. Twisting and turning, she followed the sound of water. She found a ladder and flew up the rungs, oblivious to the sound of men's shouting voices, unaware of the dash of Followers trailing behind her. She flipped a hatch, eyes blinded by her first glimpse of bright sunlight in weeks, and scrambled out of the darkness.

She darted down a random causeway, winding in and out of alleys, climbing to higher terraces, her body steaming in the chilled lower region's weather. She came to a crossroads, heaved, and spat bile on the ground. Before her sat a broken bridge between two quarters, a massive, unscalable gap separating her from the nearest escape. The temptation to jump and end it all was so tempting. No more Thólos, no more Shepherd, no more falling into rapturous pieces when he fucked her, then hating herself afterwards.

But there were still the other Omegas... and she had let them down. They needed to know about the little blue pills, needed to know that Shepherd would not help them. It was that feeling alone that moved her feet again.

Claire ran for miles, ran in a crazy pattern that would make no sense to any who could smell her, ran until she vomited and fell in a pile against iron girders. Then she saw him, and he might have just been the most beautiful thing her eyes had ever beheld. A Beta, a stranger, was reaching down to help her... leading her sobbing body away from all the cold and pain.

He told her his name was Corday.

Chapter 4

Claire woke on an unfamiliar couch with actual sun on her face. Head aching, she sat up and looked around. The Beta's one room accommodation was small, sparse like hers, with little more than necessities and only a single, wilted, air-scrubber plant.

Corday himself was standing in the kitchen; frying eggs from the smell of it.

"Do you like coffee, Miss?"

God, she had not had access to coffee in months. Already salivating, she nodded, her green eyes so wide it made him chuckle. The young man walked over with a lopsided grin, handing her a plate and the steaming beverage. "Sorry, I don't have sugar or milk."

She couldn't care less. The mug went to her lips, Claire sipping with a contented sigh. "Thank you."

"Just eat up. When you're finished, you can shower and—not to make this awkward—but you might want to put on some of my dirty clothes to mask your scent."

After all the running, all the sweat, she reeked of Omega. His offer was extraordinarily kind, assuming he was not just cornering her like the last man had.

Reading the troubled look on the woman's face, Corday added, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Suspicious, she asked, "Why are you helping me?"

"I'm an Enforcer."

She shook her head. "All the Enforcers are dead. I saw the Interdome Broadcast; the security footage at the gates of Judicial Sector. Shepherd's contagion killed them."

There was little Dome-humans feared more than the disease that had reduced billions down to a few million in one generation. That had forced skirmishes for supplies. The Red Consumption had destroyed global culture and left life safe only under the careful management of the Domes. Knowing Thólossens had seen his brothers and sisters-in-arms die coughing up blood, knowing that a pile of unconsecrated corpses waited in a section under lockdown, knowing potential Judicial Sector survivors would have been burned alive once quarantine procedure began, drained his smile away. Corday grew sad, his face suddenly seeming so very young. "Not all of us, Miss. Some were on patrol outside the Judicial Sector before quarantine lockdown."

Her lower lip started to tremble. "My name is Claire."

"Are you okay, Claire?" Corday asked carefully, looking at a woman who showed all the reactive signs of abuse.

God, it was so nice to hear someone say her name. Whispering, she shook her head, "I'm not okay."

Skirting the couch, he sat as far from the shaken woman as the sofa would allow. With his hands on his knees and brown eyes soft, he suggested, "Tell me what happened to you."

She knew that the second she said the name
Shepherd,
Corday would kick her ass out on the street. She hated to lie, but she needed a shower and warm clothing to survive in the Lower Reaches.

But maybe she didn't have to lie. Maybe all she needed to do was start at the beginning. "The chem pushers are selling counterfeit heat-suppressants. They look just like the little blue pills... but they are not heat-suppressants. They're fertility drugs. They cause us to go into estrous unexpectedly, where we are unprepared and exposed."

"And this happened to you?" Corday asked, gently urging her to continue.

Claire didn't say yes or no, she didn't have to; the huge tears dripping down her cheeks were answer enough.

Realizing she was close to falling to pieces, Corday nodded and promised, "I'll look into it. Now finish your lunch." His boyish grin returned and he backed off to return to his stove, teasing, "I had to fight six Alpha females to get those eggs."

She forced a laugh at the joke, the coffee going back to her lips. But it was hard to enjoy. The unshakable paranoia that Shepherd would burst through the door at any moment made her stomach churn. Or worse yet, Corday could be lying, waiting for an Alpha he could sell her to.

With her mind running in circles, she watched the young man. There was no projection of attraction; he was not sexually aroused. He was just a guy cooking eggs in his kitchen. He seemed genuine and harmless... he even smelled acceptable. But no one in Thólos could be trusted, not after the breach had unleashed chaos and the citizens became like animals.

The invaders had just come from the ground like ants—spewing from the Undercroft, from sentences for crimes deemed inexcusable—all of it so precise that Thólos's government fell within hours. All of it easy because the population was terrified of the transmission which looped on Interdome Broadcast.

Everyone watched accelerated signs of Red Contagion, the symptoms of that great plague known even to the youngest, decimate the very men and women sworn to protect Thólos citizens.

Shepherd threatened to infect them all should any resist.

The city turned on each other; once peaceful men and women dragged anyone they found questionable to the Citadel to be disposed of. And there she was, forcing cold eggs down her throat, terrified Corday would turn on her.

She didn't approach him to give back the plate, just set it at the edge of his counter before scampering toward the lavatory to bathe. Under unheated water, Claire scrubbed every bit of Shepherd off of her body, knowing Corday had smelled the Alpha scent she was saturated in... mortified the little string in her chest seemed to twang as if pulled taut by a demanding pair-bond.

She closed her eyes and could practically hear Shepherd raging, his angry breath coming in long roars. Then something far more disturbing ran under her skin; if she felt his fury, he felt her abject terror. Because of the tie, Shepherd was still with her, there even at that moment in the shower, sensing her though the link. Hyperventilating, Claire mentally repeated,
only instincts
, and forced her eyes open to prove that nothing but discolored tiles surrounded her.

Shepherd wasn't there. He wasn't watching her, ready to rip out her throat.

Turning off the spray, Claire dried with a towel saturated in another man's scent—a man who had not once tried to hurt her... at least not yet. From his laundry, she pulled out the most pungent pieces, dressing in a sweater he must have exercised in and a pair of sweatpants that, knowing guys, probably had not been washed in weeks.

Standing at the mirror, she found queer green eyes in the reflection and wished she understood why the face looking back at her was filled with regret. Disgusted with that woman, Claire turned around and returned to the living room. Corday was still standing in the kitchen, eating his own meal. He nodded, his mouth full.

"I have no way to barter or repay you for the clothes right now. But when I can, I will." Her voice sounded nothing like her, it was the voice of a stranger.

When Corday saw her move toward the door, he swallowed quickly and approached with caution. "Ma'am, you're in shock. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be wandering the Dome. What you need is to rest, get your bearings. You will be safe here, if you need a place to regroup."

Everything he said seemed so sensible, even the weight of his hand on her shoulder, steering her back to the couch. Mechanically, Claire lay down. He covered her with a blanket and sleep hit her hard, a corner of her mind still marveling at the feeling of sun on her face.

#

Bad dreams began that very first night. Claire was running through Thólos, through smoke and evil. The buildings she climbed were ruins, many burning. Everything was decimated, just like the photos of Pre-Reformation War cities on visual in the Archives. No matter which direction she turned, she could not escape the mob at her back. The jeering faces of raging Alphas, violent Betas... they wanted to rip her to pieces because everything was her fault. She had sent the monster into a rage; she was the reason Thólos would know even more suffering.

Hands began to grip her clothes but she pressed forward, lungs burning as she tried to find any path through the smoke. She took a wrong turn, found herself trapped atop a broken viaduct, hounded and petrified. But then he was there in the darkness, waiting for her. Standing like a mountain, Shepherd reached out, beckoning her to him with the flick of his fingers.

With the dogs at her back and the devil before her, she did not know where to turn. All she could do was jump to her death.

Claire woke screaming.

Corday rushed from his bed, clicking on a torch to offer something besides the enforced dark of Thólos curfew.

"It's okay. You're safe, Claire." His voice came out soothing.

She threw her arms around the stranger and held on for dear life. "He'll find me here," she whispered, trembling. "He's already looking."