“These men, this rotten society—in your goodness, you fail to see the flaws. I could tell you things that would keep you awake at night. Everyone, man and woman, hanged outside the Citadel participated in, or knowingly ignored, atrocities. Like the imprisonment of my mother.

“And yes, years ago Svana became my lover, and I thought she was also, equivalently, my mate. I learned I was wrong. She is a driven woman, powerful, but you are the mate the Gods designed for me. Had you been dropped into the Undercroft, had I smelled you once, I would have killed every man who tried to touch you. I would have claimed you and dragged you to my cell, bent you over my cot, and fucked you where every convict might see through the bars… so that they all knew you belonged to me. Do you understand?”

There was no answer for such a barbaric statement.

Shepherd sniffed her, growled. With his finger still submerged in her ass, he worked his cock deep inside where she was wet and ready. She gave a little scream, muffled by his thumb as he began to rut. There was nothing tender, it was pure aggression, but it satisfied in a strange way. The overfull feeling, the way he left no place untouched as that uninvited digit squirmed around. She climaxed so quickly it was startling, felt his knot press against her quivering passage as he removed his finger from her rectum.

Claire screamed when her orgasm twisted into a tuneless vibration that wracked her bones.

When he shot his load against her womb, each spurt was matched with a roar. Head buried at her shoulder, lips at her neck, Shepherd pressed his chest to hers, to the place where they were tied. The cord sang, burned, ached, pleased, and consumed.

His thumb left her mouth, Shepherd pleased when he ground his knot inside her and his little one came again.

Crushed under him, his Omega moaned, lowered her lashes, and found sleep in the clinging arms of what may, had circumstances been different, been a good man.

“What do you mean she’s not here?” Corday demanded.

“I mean, Enforcer Corday”—Nona offered a tired sigh—“that she isn’t here. Claire slipped away days ago and has not returned.”

Behind narrowed eyes, Corday’s mind raced a mile a minute. The worry was making his stomach churn, and by the look in Nona’s eyes, it was clear she was just as upset, only concealing it better.

As if trying to offer the young man an explanation, Nona said, “I think she simply decided to go home.”

“To Shepherd?” he snapped, anger written all over his face. “Claire would never do that.”

“She had been low on spirits, Enforcer. What I am trying to tell you is that she most likely went home.”