One man had driven back the nightmare underground. Shepherd had organized a feral population, given slaves purpose, hope. Yet, like all prisoners, if Shepherd wanted something, he took it, and God help you if you disappointed him.

Shepherd remained incapable of understanding Claire’s hesitations.

Even for all the Alpha’s aggression, there was no one in the world Jules admired more. His respect even withstood the flaw in his superior—Shepherd’s universe began and ended with Svana.

The fact the two Alphas were lovers was no secret. Even Jules had witnessed Svana’s enthusiasm for Shepherd for years. He knew the story of how she had drawn him underground, approached Shepherd as if she were an angel with her passcodes and rare food. At the time they’d both been young. Perhaps they had seduced one another—two miscreant wild things enslaved by the system. But where Shepherd had been born in hell, Svana had come from heaven.

He practically worshiped at her feet. He had made himself the mission for her, built her an army.

She claimed to be special, chosen…

Worst of all, it was true. All of it.

She owned something no amount of money could buy: a valuable bloodline.

Svana was the key to freedom, to a new world, to a land where no one would look down on them for Da’rin—where no one would hiss the word ‘outcast.’ With her help, all of them would be heroes, redeemers, saviors.

They would all be reborn.

Svana had not been born in Thólos Dome. Instead, she’d been gifted to the people of Thólos…

None of this was public knowledge, of course. Very few knew Svana had arrived on a transport two decades ago as part of an Interdome trade of viable females. Even less knew who that child in rags really was. Her adopted parents didn’t know, and from Jules’ investigation, even Premier Callas was not privy to such information. The secret belonged to Shepherd and to the chosen Followers of the man sworn to lead them to freedom.

Svana was cunning on her own; she used her position to develop access to everything… secrets, money, favors—even lovesick teenaged Shepherd.

It was a fancy she’d grown out of. Shepherd, on the other hand, had been entirely unaware of the fact that his beloved had moved on. She knew what she was doing, feeding his regard for her, nurturing his devotion. It seemed pathetic, had you not seen what the two of them could accomplish together.

That Jules hated. She was necessary for the plan. Shepherd, all the Followers, needed her.