Faith shaken, Shepherd nodded sadly. What had once been the adolescent who’d climbed atop him at her first urge and mated, swearing to be his forever, was not the woman he found he could not look at.

Shepherd left in disgusted silence.

Back in his room, he showered in water so hot his skin burned, found the discomfort cleansing, but still felt the taint of what he’d done—found the recoil of the bond, the violent sting, a welcome penitence for mating in a way that degraded them all. No stranger to suffering, he relished it as his due, just as he had each time he had purposefully harmed Claire for her own good.

A knock came to the door. One of his lieutenants entered to hand him something far more disturbing than anything else he had faced in the last grueling twenty-four hours.

Shepherd held a wretched piece of paper in his hand, unable to look away.

Even with the consuming sadness of Claire’s expression, even with the arrogant tilt of her chin and judgment in her eyes, she was beautiful. But it was the marks on her neck, the split lip… wounds created when Svana had forced Claire to spread, that held Shepherd’s attention.

Look at me. I am what you have done to yourselves.

“Sir,” the Follower began, “these are blowing all over Thólos. Reports say they were discovered scattered at six locations so far. They have already been seen by the citizens lining up for rations.”

Shepherd’s unresolved anger, the long hours of poisonous rage, vanished at the realization of what her actions could mean. His silver eyes darted all over the page, absorbed every curve of a body that was only for his eyes… read her words… and could not look away from the complicated pain.

He wanted nothing more in the world than to hold her, to touch that naked skin, to do anything necessary to remove that expression from her face.

I was pair-bonded to Shepherd against my will. I carry his child.

Her message to the world, the exposed expression of her spirit—it was the final rebellion. Death was coming for her, and she was going to feed herself to the city in an attempt to show them all the truth of what they had become. The foolish, brave little Omega.

Do not make me stand alone.

There would be no sanctuary for Claire after this. She would not live long enough to know the pain of Red Consumption. Thólos would slaughter her, rip her apart like dogs fighting over a bone if he did not get to her first.