Ignoring her accusation, he cracked his neck and looked down at his worried mate. “I will be back shortly, and when I return, I expect to receive the remaining portion of our agreement.”

She fought to maintain an impassive expression while Shepherd traced her lips with his thumb and leveled upon her a liquid gaze brimming with lust and ravenous expectation. He dipped his thumb between her lips, growled richly as if he was about to fuck her, and left her sitting in a little pool of slick.

Dazed, Claire stared at the closing door. She knew what he was calling due, what he had left sitting between them for weeks—in order to fulfill their bargain, Claire was expected to initiate sex.

Unsure whether he had chosen that moment as a means to distract her from her worry, or if it was some sort of victory celebration for whatever he was doing, she shifted uncomfortably at being left in such a state.

It was not as if she’d forgotten what she’d offered for Lilian and the others to be laid to rest, but she’d had other far more pressing things to center her thoughts upon. Besides, physical intimacy with Shepherd had taken place countless times. She knew what he liked, where to touch him to draw out a reaction… so how hard could it be to initiate it?

Hard.

Looking for a distraction, Claire showered and cleaned up the paints, expecting him back at any second. But hours passed and she began to grow anxious, worried about what might or might not be going on in Thólos.

Was it an insurrection? Corday—had he found a way to end this?

Claire was on the edge of full-blown panic when the lock finally shifted. Gritty metal whined and the door swung inwards. She stopped her customary pacing, turning with tangled relief to face the largeness of her mate.

15

The severed head of Senator Kantor still lay on the table, wrecked and unmoved from the place it had been dropped once Jules had pulled it from the pike outside the Citadel and brought the repugnant thing to Shepherd. There was no clean cut where neck had been severed from shoulders, just a torn stump of muscle and tendon. Around it lay a splatter of blood, leaking fluids, and the fingers of a man gripping the table so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

Before Shepherd had left, they’d argued, the Alpha’s bulging arms crossed over his chest while he’d stared down his second-in-command. “You went against my orders and killed him while he was still useful to us?”

“No…”

Svana.