Claire did not so much as blink an eye. “You ask me for the same thing daily.”

3

His Omega’s cheeks were pink and lovely from her exertion trying to match his larger steps, but it was the flatness of her eyes Shepherd did not like. They turned another corner, walking down the hall that led to his quarters, no soul in sight, as he had ordered all his men to vacate the halls so his Omega would be left alone.

There was no handcuff between them, an act Shepherd felt deserved a great reward, but Claire seemed to not recognize his generosity on the topic. She’d hardly even looked around, not that there was much to see.

She was so unhappy...

His mate reminded him of a fish in a bowl, staring vacantly at a world she would never be able to breathe in. It was clear from her end of the link that there was no pleasure in it for her, that the walk was unwelcome—that she felt more trapped without the chain than she had felt for weeks locked away in his den.

He wondered if she was punishing herself again, if that was what made her cling to his arm when she was miserable. Or, if it was some test. Shepherd did not ask. Instead he stayed close, looking over his domain, measuring what might be a threat, what waited around every corner, observing those stark halls in a tactical way she never could.

But this walk was not working. He pulled her another direction, and punched a code into a steel door. It opened, and though there was no sky or view, icy wind blasted their way.

The armed soldiers at the portal kept their heads forward once they realized who’d come. Claire went to step out, to pass through the tunnel to see where the breeze was coming from.

Shepherd did not allow her move. “I cannot guarantee your safety outside right now, little one. Breathe your air, feel the cold, enjoy what you can before I must return you to our nest.”

She had not expected him to even partially concede to her request, not after feeling the swell of unease that rolled through the male when she’d told him she needed to go outside. Shepherd was too determined to keep her quarantined underground.

Leaning as far forward as his great arm would allow, Claire had a slender glimpse of a city blown away on the wind, all of her ideals made into some mockery with the stink of dead bodies, of smoke wafting her way. Thólos had grown so much harder to comprehend. A part of her had begun to resent it, and at moments like those—moments when Shepherd’s feelings somehow mingled with hers—Claire struggled to remind herself that she loved the city she could barely glimpse down the passageway.