Widening her eyes, she grasped the secret; Claire knew exactly what inspired the hostile feelings buzzing on Shepherd’s end of their bond. There was only one reason to harbor such hatred. She knew it because Shepherd had given her cause to feel the same way.

Claire said it again, just to be sure. “Premier Callas.”

The Alpha’s end of the link turned rancid, old anger crashing down between them like a wave of acid.

It was more than what that monster had done to his mother, it was jealousy.

Jealousy...

Claire could hardly believe it, couldn’t even begin to fathom why, but she knew—It was Premier Callas, Shepherd’s enemy, who Svana had been unfaithful with. It had to be for him to feel such betrayal.

Looking away from the feral mate who was silently raging, Claire fell into her thoughts, shaking her head like it could not be true. Premier Callas was responsible for the torment and death of Shepherd’s mother... why would Svana harm her lover in that way? Resting her head on Shepherd’s chest, she stared at nothing, shared in his pain through the link, and felt as if the floor had fallen from under them both.

Like thoughts of the child growing in her belly, Claire had pushed memories of the exotic beauty away each time they’d cropped up. It had felt essential to maintain her sanity and her composure when faced with the man who had defiled their bond by fucking the Alpha female. But she had to look, had to face the discomfort and sadness that squirmed in her insides when homicidal china blue eyes flashed to the forefront of her mind.

She had to, or she would turn into Shepherd—a man who had buried such anger as if it might just disappear. The link was slowly assuring that such a demise would be inevitable... his personality was just too strong.

Svana’s was a face Claire could never forget. That beautiful, frightful image carved into her.

It was as if someone had shattered a window, light pierced the darkness in her mind. The wide eyes and soft lips... she’d seen them before. Claire had never paid much attention to high society or politics. Of course she, like everyone under the Dome, recognized the key players: Premier Callas, Senator Kantor...

But Claire had seen her somewhere before.

The woman had been dressed differently underground, less glamor, less makeup, but still radiant—incredibly beautiful.

The magazine...

Claire had had it on her coffee table for months. The woman on the cover of The Thólosite was dressed in a gown and smiling like the princess of the city. Claire had bought it for an article on cooking, but the woman on the cover had also inspired the purchase, Claire thinking the softly waved hairstyle was something she might try herself.

What was her name? Why was Claire suddenly sick to her stomach?