Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Hands shaking so hard she almost mussed up a vital connection, Maryanne chanted under her breath, “Just don’t think about it.”
And that was when she heard the scrape, looking over her shoulder to find Georges starting to unscrew the panel above them.
Maryanne’s hand shot out, gripped the Beta’s wrist hard, her brown doe eyes all wrong from the drugs. A minute shake of her head, a silent warning, as she pulled his hand down slowly.
He spoke the truth in a horrible, stuttering whisper. “You… You’re a monster.”
Maryanne had been called worse. But she’d also never felt so worthy of the title.
Don’t think about it.
The sounds of the rape were brutal, the panel above them creaking in time to disjointed Alpha thrusts. Harsh male panting, aggressive snarls of a male who may not understand he could just produce an Alpha growl to subdue her.
The man using violence instead.
A roar.
And then it was over. Whatever had been done to the Omega… she was silent now.
Inhale caught on a sob, Georges’s whisper was loud in the suddenly quiet tunnel. “Is she alive?”
I hope not. And Maryanne was not going to think about it. Ever. “The light, shine it here.”
In his shock, he obeyed. And though the beam of light shook, it was steady enough for her to finish her work. For Maryanne to seal the console, her hidden device buried in cables, hidden away. For her to lift up one of their heavy bags and stand over the traumatized Beta.
“Hey. It’s…. You need….” What words could she say? Threats would only get her so far before she totally broke him. And he was damaged already. Before she realized what she was doing, she parroted one of Shepherd’s stupid fucking philosophical quotes. “In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.”
Disbelief and disgust from the Beta. “What?”
Exactly. That’s exactly how Maryanne had looked when Shepherd said it to her the first time. Like a guppy. Because, who the fuck cares?
“Look me in the eye, Georges. Look at me. Brenya will die if we do not get this city prepared for war. Your brother and sisters will die. Millions will suffer. So, pick up that bag and show me how to get to the next access relay. I’ll do the… ugly things. You just show me the way. And for fuck’s sake, hold the godsdamn light still next time, so I can see my work.”
She’d never seen a male cry like that. Like he meant it, like suffering beyond his own mattered. But he also picked up the heavy pack, drugs wreaking havoc on him just like they were her, and he pointed which way they needed to run. Which was good.
Maryanne didn’t want him to see.
Blood was leaking through the access panel above them. Blood scented of slick and Alpha cum. One droplet falling on Maryanne’s cheek like a tear, wiped away before Georges might notice.
14
Greth Dome
For once, Shepherd did not get his way.
Claire had won.
There had been no dinner with Annette or Guadalupe. There had been no walking through cheering crowds to exultant shouts of “Queen Svana!”
There had been no peace.
And Claire was starting to fear this was what they would be forever. Stuck in a war that should have ended in Thólos. With her dead. With him dead. With everyone gone.
A war that haunted her yet did not trouble him at all.
And it was as they lay in bed, her ear to his heart, his knot locked deep and true, that she told him this. Whispered things to him in the dark she’d never even told Dr. Osin.
Confessions, every last sad thought, as he listened and played with her black hair, just like Shepherd had from the first day he had claimed her.
Sad little secrets about growing up with a mother like hers, with a father that worked to pretend everything was okay. How she realized now that there had been a void inside her, long before she’d met him. But told her husband he had dug it deeper, because he had done things she could not ever forget even if she might forgive.
And his actions had changed how things could have been between them.
Her growing disgust, even horror, that he’d said Svana’s name without anger or grief. As if forcing it on Claire was some kind of honor. “If you were going to do this monstrous thing to me, you should have changed your name to Premier Callas when you invaded Greth and lived with that insult for the rest of your days. Your Svana is the reason my son is dead. She’s the reason I was raped in the Undercroft. She’s the reason you are so broken and so fucking stupid when it comes to people.”
The nest was warm, soft, his body strong under her. The covers over them kept out the light. In their private little cave as her spirit jerked on his pair-bond like a fish on a hook.