A corner of her mind spoke over the mental chatter, whispering incessantly that her baby could never stay there—that Thólos was not good enough, and it scratched and scratched, infesting, and reminding her that she had a duty to her unborn son, that he was more important than any other life.

It was getting harder to silence that voice every day.

So in war, the way is to avoid what is strong, and strike at what is weak. –Sun Tzu

That is exactly what he was doing to her, even if he was holding her comfortably as he jammed in the knife.

Talk of the baby was acutely painful.

As if he knew, warm, reassuring arms wound around her, Shepherd held her with love and murmured that she need not fret, that she need only remain patient.

What she needed was so far beyond patience. She needed to strike back.

“You are the strongest Alpha I have ever seen,” Claire began, compelled to make her point. “You have limitless potential. But, just like this unborn child, you are trapped in the dark. The acts of bad men shaped and distracted you. Serving your mission, even after you climbed from the Undercroft, you were never given a chance to be part of the world, Shepherd. Like me, you have never been free.” Her eyes went to where his hand had frozen in a caress over the life they had created. “So what of him? Will he live a mimic of your life? Will he wield murder and pain against those he’s taught to hate?”

Shepherd began a slow languid stroke that ended at the scruff of her neck. Gripping Claire’s nape as if she were a kitten, he held her immobile. “You do not know of what you speak, and that is no fault of your own. So listen when I tell you that our son will be raised to greatness... nurtured and educated. Loved.” His voice dropped, grew chilling, and he growled, “But far more importantly, how could you imagine I would inflict upon my child what was done to me?”

Face impassive, Claire spread her hands on his chest. She had one weapon, the truth. “Svana was in your company days ago. What have the two of you planned for this baby? Will your schemes, your examples, make him the next Premier Callas?”

It was like watching a storm gather in his eyes. The silver went dark, the rage began to build, and the man’s expression grew almost violent. She wanted a strong response, and she got one... she got even more than she anticipated. At last, she had struck him where he was weak. It was not her accusations that had burned him, it was that forbidden name: Premier Callas.

Leaning on the link, she felt Shepherd’s boiling animosity. But there was more, Shepherd was seething with disgust.