Corrupted (Alpha's Claim Book 5) by Addison Cain (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

not a question, so it required no answer. It required no attention.

Licking dry lips, unsure where to begin, Brenya cocked her head, aware her expression was one of despondent confusion.

So he spoke for her. “This is where you beg me to spare the people of Bernard Dome.”

Exactly. She had made her way to Ambassador Jules Havel for that reason alone.

The cork holding back her voice popped, Brenya stepping closer to the glass. “If I could find humor in this situation, it would be in knowing that we share a secret that shouldn’t be a secret at all.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t emote. But he conveyed an ocean of danger. “And what would that be?”

Fingers working the knots she had created in the stolen shirt, the parcel of food she had brought for him was set free. It was in doing that task, in focusing on something other than the strange way the man looked at her, that Brenya was able to tell the truth. “From the moment my life was infected by Jacques Bernard, he has inflicted pain upon me every single day. Resisting led to no alteration in this pattern. Surrender led to no change. The pair-bond…”

What was there to even say about the pair-bond? Nothing, because ultimately, it didn’t matter. What mattered was Jacques' oversight.

She laughed in the way of the weary and the broken. “The Alpha believes the pair-bond will force you to do everything in your power to keep me safe. And therefore, all of Bernard Dome will be protected from… you.”

Her laughter died. Not because the stoic, staring Beta stood unmoving as he absorbed all she did. It was because none of this was funny.

“Like Jacques, you are under no restraint from causing me harm. Pair-bond or no, you would do so in full understanding of your actions. The Commodore has not contained you with his ploy. He has unleashed you on a population who should not be held accountable for my crimes and Jacques' cruelty.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up, a contrived expression that conveyed nothing, because the man felt nothing. “You are right. I would hurt you without restraint.”

Melting into the glass between them, letting it bear her weight, Brenya shut her eyes to all of it. “I find it reassuring.”

“Look at me, Brenya.”

Lashes lifting, she obeyed.

Finding that he moved with the precision of a panther, easy grace and coiled violence. That in those few peaceful moments he had fully approached, that he too pressed against it, as if there were nothing between them. As if his hands were already around her throat. And then he whispered as if his breath might warm her ear. “Let me out, and I will hurt you all you like.”

A strange shiver left the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to rise. Pushing far enough away from the glass so she might run her attention over everything from the fall of his brown hair, the shape of his ear, the height of his cheekbones, the cruelty of his mouth, to a neck that was tattooed with such dark markings it was as if the evil inside him was trying to claw its way out. “Did you destroy Thólos Dome?”

He answered, “Yes.”

“Did you invade Greth?”

Again. “Yes.”

Pressing her palm to the faulty installment between them, Brenya stroked the glass. “When I stole your ship, it never occurred to me that you might be on it. I was unaware of the situation in Thólos or the consequence of my choice to seek asylum there. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter that I was ignorant and careless. I am fully culpable for this situation.”

Fingertips seeking out the secrets of the glass, Brenya digested the nature of what stood physically between them. All the while, lifting her eyes to a terrible, blue, intolerant gaze. “I am sorry, Jules Havel.”

“So you have brought me a bag of food to make amends?”

There wasn’t time for tricks or word play. There wasn’t time for much. They both knew he had not so much as glanced at the food since she arrived.

Swallowing, she dared ask, “Why did you torment the people of Thólos?”

Setting his fingers to the glass, following her exploration of its secrets—as if they shared a strange dance—his voice held an enticing edge. “You know precisely why I slaughtered a civilization.”

“Bernard Dome is not like Thólos.” Nor was she empty and soulless like the man before her. “My people are blameless, peaceful, hardworking, dedicated—everything opposite of those you have been exposed to in Central.”

“Conveniently anesthetized into the perfect slave labor.”

The Beta was not exactly right, and he was not exactly wrong. But there was no point in debating what the man had never experienced.

“If I return you to your Rebecca, will you forgive me for what was done to you and leave my people alone?”

“No.”

“I understand.” And she did. She understood in a strangely malignant way.

Their dance was over, Brenya having found the slot that might be coaxed open so that a Beta prisoner could be given food and water. The programming sequence to open it had not been modified from the same she had used all her years making conducting repairs during the descent. Another sign Jacques had no concept of how his Dome actually functioned.

Brenya would not even need to break the glass to get Jules out.

Fingers moving in a dedicated pattern, it began to slide open, wider and wider, like a waterfall parting when a hand cut through its stream.

“This is just remarkably lazy.” All muttered under her breath as she bent down to scoop up the parcel of food.

He had her before she might blink, Brenya’s wrist caught, her body dragged forward until once again she was pressed up to the barrier between them.

Food hit the ground in its soaked napkin with a splat… on the wrong side of the glass. It was the other hand he had stolen, the other arm he used to maneuver her where he wished.

Parts of her that were sore and swollen were soothed