Nestled deep under the covers, Claire woke alone. She knew that if she stepped out of the nest, if she tiptoed to the window, she would find him. Whatever mess she had made of the garden the previous day, he tried to repair while she slept, uprooting plants she’d over-pruned and replacing them, as if his mate wouldn’t notice.

It was sweet, in Shepherd’s strange way. It was also true that if he didn’t put in the secret effort, everything would have died weeks ago.

Once, she had once told him she wanted a garden, windows too.

Now she had both.

He had made his own promises, ones she wanted nothing to do with: a grand new world.

Claire, what happened in Thólos?

It was the same question every day. This grand new world, if it even existed, was unknown to her. Much of the last year within the North Wing was a blur, what happened before a nightmare, and its toll had been taken.

She wasn’t Claire O’Donnell anymore.

The venue had changed from North Wing to Greth Dome, but the schedule remained the same: medication, therapy, painting, music.

A beautiful piano was downstairs, a black grand she could play in the sunlight while surrounded by a view of beautiful plants. But she was only allowed to play after she answered the question: what happened in Thólos?

Everyone around her knew what had happened in Thólos. Dr. Osin knew. Though Claire had never seen her there, the old woman’s accent was her own.

It was insulting that she had to sit across from the unwelcome female and face that question morning, noon, and night.

Her psychiatrist’s hair was almost white, steely, her form wiry and strong. There was nothing soft about Dr. Osin—she was a Follower, after all. One, Claire was certain, must resent the assignment of tending to their leader’s broken mate.

“What happened in Thólos, Claire?”

“A lot of people died.”

“Who killed them?”

“I did.”

“Because of this?” A flyer bearing her naked image, aged and creased, was slid across the coffee table between them.

Claire didn’t want to touch it, was certain she was going to be sick. “I hate Thólos.” Her throat was tight, the space behind her eyes burned. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Dr. Osin never cut her slack. “What happened in Thólos, Claire?”

That question made her heart clench, it made the thought of food horrid. Anxiety, panic—more than the sedatives could manage—would hit her hard every single time she heard it.

She had to give an answer or the doctor would keep asking. She had to offer something or the torment would continue.

Small voice replied, “Nothing good happened in Thólos.”

The notepad was set aside. “We will continue tomorrow.”

But it wasn’t just tomorrow, it was every day.

Claire pulled the covers from her head, unwilling to lie there any longer. The comfort of the nest was not enough if Shepherd was not in it to cuddle with. The only safe place to be was wherever he was.

There were walls around her new home—walls within walls within walls. So many, she could walk outside and be assured no one would bother her, that she was safe.

Shepherd’s grand new world…

How he maintained this position, she did not know. There were no sounds of war under the Dome. There was no stench of death, no pop of bullets.

The people who lived here had let them in. Claire had not seen one of them. Though it was weak on her part, she didn’t want to think about it.

It was easier to pretend it was only the two of them… Dr. Osin’s intrusions aside.

Pulling on a robe the same shade of green as the weeping trees which grew in the surrounding garden, Claire crept down the stairs, pulled open the door, and went to him. Shepherd had known she was coming. Though he stood away from the flowers, the telltale grit was still under his fingernails when she interlaced their fingers.

“Where are your shoes, little one?”

The question brought a sleepy smile, Claire leaning against his arm to watch the sunrise. “Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

He was purring, her worries forgotten at the sound of it. “I would. And then we walk.”

She’d grown to enjoy their walks, just the two of them around the compound’s private perimeter. There was even a segment right against the Dome’s glass. She could trail her fingers on it, see the condensation collecting outside. Beyond the glass there was no snow.

Outside sat mountains, a great river… growing things.

Everything around her was a reminder that life flourished.

In order for that life to continue to flourish, it had to be fed. Her newest job was to feed her mate.

The venture was interesting, gave her a chance to share something with him each morning that she had been denied underground: domestic normality. Shepherd’s breakfast was simple. One big blender filled with stinking mold powder, raw eggs, nut butter, and whatever else he needed to supplement his altered system. Making it for him wasn’t a chore. Claire would put in a little cinnamon, or cocoa, but she was certain it still tasted awful, teasing him about his one restriction.

He would suck it down in huge gulps, Claire making a point of not staring, while she gathered her small meal. She didn’t like to eat much in the morning—he knew that now—usually a boiled egg, toast, and some coffee. Medication was next, waiting on the counter between them. Shepherd would watch her poke at the AM set, already presorted for her by another: antidepressants, antipsychotics, sedatives, a heat suppressant, a vitamin.

Seeing the assortment made her unhappy. She didn’t show it, but it was always there in the link.

Her regimen had been tailored within Thólos’ North Wing and watched with a hawk’s eye by Dr. Osin now that she lived in Greth. Even though there had been no major meltdowns in the short months since Shepherd had brought her home, there was still so much to swallow.

Claire always took the little blue pill first, before she ate a bite. The rest were portioned as her meal progressed. Vitamin last.

“I love you, Claire O’Donnell.”

Green eyes stopped brooding on the Monday-Sunday medication container to look at the man across the counter. There was a band on his left ring finger; she now wore one too. “O’Donnell isn’t my name any longer, Shepherd.”

Though he was purring, his answer was curt. “I never had a surname, you know that.”

“If you are only Shepherd, then I am only Claire. I’ll take the nothing at the end.”

Large fingers stroked her jaw. “What of our future children, only Claire?”

And just like that, the moment was ruined. She fought to keep her food down, to keep herself from breaking things.

What happened in Thólos, Claire?

For just a moment, she looked up at Shepherd… and hated him.

* * *

They missed their walk that day, Shepherd far more focused on fucking his despondent mate back into a state of tranquility. He had to be careful. There were rules now, because others had hurt her. He couldn’t take her from behind; she had to be able to see him so she might not panic, might not be in a position to suffer a flashback.

Aggression had to be severely moderated.

Shepherd still made certain to enforce his domination, because that’s what she needed when she was scared, angry, or lost.

The first time they’d joined after reuniting, she’d been terrified. It wasn’t fear of Shepherd, it was just the unlanced poison stuck inside her from everything she’d survived and all that had been taken from her. After waking in the new nest—after the rules were broadcasted—he’d mounted her again, over and over, until she’d fallen into a dreamless sleep, voice hoarse from crying out his name.

Shepherd did not let her out of his sight for even a moment the first weeks. The routine deviated little from what had been theirs in the Thólos underground. If he could be inside her, he was. She hardly stepped outside, though she could if she wished to.

Claire had a studio to paint in, a COMscreen should she wish to read, and had been told—more times than she could count—that all she had to do was ask for something and it would be acquired.

“Are there other Omegas here?”

Shepherd was dead serious. “Would you like me to procure some?”

Her lip twitched. “Are you going to round up friends for me?”

“There is a team in place to see to your recovery and companionship. It can be augmented with Omegas if you need them.”

“No, Shepherd. You can’t just procure Omegas. That would not make me happy. It would make me angry.” A year, and in the most fundamental ways he hadn’t changed at all. Claire hesitated to ask, “What about the Omegas… from back home? The ones your men took as mates?”

The way the Alpha looked at her, Claire was not certain if he was intrigued she had asked after the females or angered. “Those who betrayed you will never be allowed near again. I would not even allow them to step foot in this palace. They are with their mates in another sector, they are not allowed free rein of the city. In a year or two my stance may be reconsidered.”

Palace?

She should have known better. After chewing her lip, she asked, “Are they well?”

“They are settled, content. Several have children.”

The conversation was over, Shepherd having used the one word that was guaranteed to shut her down. Before she could slip back into her medicated daze, Shepherd pushed a little more, “Would you like proof of my claim? Do you want assurance that they are happy?”

“No.” Maybe… “I believe you.”

“The children could be brought here.”

“You can’t separate babies from their mothers!” She was awake again and very angry he would even suggest such a thing. “Swear to me you won’t.”

Large arms crossed over his chest, Shepherd challenging, “Their fathers could escort them so you might meet them, but, yes, the mothers would be left behind.”

“Asking your men to come here so I can see their offspring is ridiculous.”

“I do not ask my Followers. I order and they obey.” Shepherd stepped closer, menacing. “Do you understand that, Claire? I could demand anything, anything at all, and they are bound to do it. You like children. You could learn their names, paint pictures for them.”

He was annoying her with his grandiosity. “You make yourself sound like a king—”

Shepherd growled, “I am greater than a king. Or have you forgotten? I brought ruin to the most corrupt city on the planet. It was easy…”

The words fell heavy on a dumb tongue. “Thólos still stands.”

“Limping and fractured. Those who survived have less than five years before famine and exposure kills them all. My point was made greater that way, so the lesson might continue for the world to see. And believe me, the world is watching.”

Claire didn’t even know what to do with his words, because there was something dark in the link she must not acknowledge. “Svana destroyed Thólos. It was all her doing.”

Shepherd made sure Claire heard every word. “Everything that was done was my machinations, my leadership.”

She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. “I was there. She did it.”

“You can’t pretend I am something I am not for the sake of your comforting delusion. I ruled Thólos; I now rule Greth. Under this Dome, I hold the position far more firmly than any before me. No one can challenge my authority. Those who could were removed. Claire, I crippled Thólos. Its citizens are rotting as we speak, and I will enjoy knowing that city suffers insidious harm until my dying breath. But I did leave it uninfected, enjoying the show of their scrambling pleas for mercy to other Domes who ignore them or face my wrath. I will assure other nations will avoid them, that they will refuse to buoy the infrastructure as it collapses. That city will be hell on earth no matter how loud they beg.”

She could feel a river of tears fall down her cheeks. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because I love you.”

Had they not been in the confines of their kitchen, the whole Palace would have heard her shriek. “I can’t hear this! I don’t want to talk about Thólos!”

“Don’t be a coward, Claire. Fight me.”

It felt like she was walking the ice again, cracks spreading out under her feet. “I told you I couldn’t do that… I won’t stand for Thólos. That part of me died.”

“You know they deserve every torment they will feel.”

“What’s left was what you made! There was good there once. YOU ARE KILLING ME.”

“The only good thing that ever was in Thólos is standing before me, very much alive,” Shepherd growled, stepping nearer should she think to run before his lecture was complete. “And she doesn’t belong to Thólos anymore. She belongs to me, to my domain, Greth Dome. She belongs in this palace that I have secured for her. She belongs on the throne at my side because I have made her queen.”

She ignored a goodly portion of what he said, her thoughts on one man. “Corday was good.”

The second it was said, Claire wished she hadn’t spoken. Fear hit her hard. “Corday is still alive right? You didn’t kill him when you came for me, did you? Oh my god, Shepherd, please tell me you didn’t!”

“He lives.” The giant’s fists were clenched tight, his silver eyes burning. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted… until I saw what he’s become.”

There was something deeper going on, the real reason Shepherd was orchestrating his attack. “Explain?”

“He hates his people, himself… the world.” Shepherd watched her confusion, watched her try to process something seemingly absurd. “It’s a legacy I understand.”

Claire knew him better than that. “Corday is gentle, he’s sweet. I don’t believe you.”

Shepherd sounded almost proud. “The Undercroft has that effect on the soul.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Claire ground her teeth, angry, so angry. “Why are you saying these things?”

He repeated his reason from before. “Because I love you.”

“…and you want me to not love my friend? You can’t share my affection with those who cared for me when I was alone and scared?”

“He is not what he was, little one. That is my point.” Shepherd stood taller, took her chin so she was forced to look. “The fall of Thólos brought out the true heart of everyone. Do not be fooled by his smiles or the flowers he brought you. That goodness was corrupted when you were ra—”

Her hands flew to her ears, Claire breathing too hard to see straight. “SHUT UP!”

One swipe and the dress was ripped off, a hard cock shoved in with only the kitchen counter digging into her back to offer support. Clawing and scratching, she raged at the Alpha, punishing him with bites as he thrust.

Holding her bare ass in his hands, yanking her body back down when she squirmed away, Shepherd grunted like a beast, barely able to form the words, “Fight me, little one. Remember.”

The initial aggression was all hers, Claire so far gone she hardly noticed how she screamed when all the rage inside her squeezed, cracked, and dumped out like stagnant filth. The power of her release, she sobbed through it while the violent Alpha used her as he had not since Thólos.

Just when he was about to knot, he spun her around, bent Claire over and plunged in from behind. The knot expanded, her legs kicking while Shepherd roared, “This is your Alpha, your mate! That is who is fucking you!”

Dangling from her awkward position, feeling the cramp of her orgasm milk Shepherd’s cock, she understood. Living in seclusion, where they walked trails and enjoyed one another, didn’t change what he was, or what she was. He needed her to accept all of him, and not pretend while they played house.

He was never going to be easy on her.

There would never be a day he’d regret forcing her into a pair bond. It was the only way he would have ever won the female’s affections. His reward was perfect, dominating her body and mind sublime to such a man.

Shepherd twisted her hair in his fist, pulling her neck up so he might dig his nose in and sniff, so his grating purrs would be felt best with her back to his chest. “You are my little one. Sweet and so pretty. The way you come around my cock is something that I hunger for, hearing you scream for me my favorite sound. You are my wife, my mate. No time apart could change that. No courting Beta, no estrous, no drugs. You didn’t want me, I know that. I enjoyed the challenge. I enjoyed stealing your affection. I enjoyed mating you into oblivion more times than I can count. I’d never let you go. EVER!”

Claire could see his reflection in the window, could see that the man knotting her was Shepherd and not a horrible memory, and wondered if he’d plotted the entire conversation just to reach that moment, knowing she would have that reflection should she need it.

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.”