Shepherd did not hesitate to counter, “I only want you, Claire.”

She let out a breath. “The first time I saw you at the Citadel, the first time I smelled you, I did not see you as my mate. All I felt was fear. It was very hard to stand my ground and not run.”

Running his thumb over her frowning lips, Shepherd forced a question that tightened his mouth and squared his shoulders. “Because of my Da’rin Markings?”

Claire shook her head, her brows drawing together. “No. Because of what you’d done, where you were, how big you are… the violence. My father was a very nice man—funny and kind. That is the epitome of Alpha to me. That is a suiting mate. You are none of those things. Since you forced the bond, I feel controlled, manipulated, you have caused me grief, I cannot trust you, and you only treat me nicely to get your way.”

“I will take responsibility for the grief, but as for the rest, much of it is your own fault. You have made little effort to be a contented mate. Your resistance and continued subversion requires a firm hand to ensure your safety. I would be cruel to you to keep you safe, and I freely manipulate you as there is no other recourse to draw you nearer. Had you settled as the other Omegas had settled, your life would be happy. And I am careful of your wellbeing. I bring you things you never thank me for. I offer you the best foods. I stroke and purr and please you physically for hours.”

Claire had intended the conversation to highlight her concerns with Thólos, not nitpick at the major issues as to why, aside from his many transgressions, their pair-bond was madness. Gritting her teeth at his list of ridiculous accusations, she took a deep breath and tried to control her temper. “When you were in the Undercroft, did you thank your jailors for what they brought you?”

Shepherd’s eyes went fractionally wider, the man incredibly insulted. “Thank me for the paints.”

Claire snarled, “Thank me for all the hours I have spent cleaning this room.”

“Little one.” The shift in him was unsettling. The male purred and squeezed her hand gently. “Your domestic behavior in our shared den is nothing but pleasing to me. Thank you.”

Scowling, Claire lost ground. “I am concerned that if I thank you for the paints, you will know how much I like them and take them away.”

“I will not take your paints. I understand that you need them and that there is little outlet for you when I am not here.”

She did not believe him, but it didn’t matter. Her lower lip trembled. Feeling her eyes grow damp she whispered, “Thank you for the paints.”

“Do you wish to continue talking, or would you prefer to go see the sky now?”