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needed.

But she refused to worry. Emotions could be controlled and explored later. Right now, she needed to take care of him.

So he could take care of everyone else.

Jules had a new wife now. Shepherd had shown Claire a projection of a woman standing on a balcony, the wind dancing through her hair as she stared into the distance.

A scar dragged down one of the Omega’s eyelids, puckered the flesh of her cheek.

An engaging scar on the face of an interesting woman.

Smiling at the picture, Claire told Shepherd she’d chosen a friend… so he could stop grousing.

“Brenya Havel does not speak your language, and she needs time, little one.” Yet it was clear Shepherd was pleased by her declaration. “You come on strong, and the last year of her life has not been easy. Let’s not overwhelm her.”

“Then I will send a gift. A painting.” She smiled, already knowing exactly which view of her garden to capture. “We can exchange letters.”

It was so rare to catch Shepherd in an open act of contemplation. Which left Claire grinning as he looked to the side and pondered. “You could prepare for her your favorite Omega information.”

“Omega information?” Chuckling before she nipped his chest, Claire hummed in the exact pitch that would make his eyes heavy. “Sure. I’ll put together a manual.”

It was meant to be a joke, but the way Shepherd looked at her…

“She was the first Omega in Bernard Dome in generations. It would be a kindness to give her some perspective.”

Claire reeled, trying to imagine what life might have been like without a sisterhood of Omegas to guide her. A mother, Nona, all the women she had met with in secret because their lives required safety in numbers and vigilance.

“The Alpha who forged the bond. He hurt her,” Claire whispered. Because of course he did. He wouldn’t know what to do any more than Brenya might.

It was a situation that almost deserved pity for the male.

“A letter—some advice, from the wife of Jules’ friend.” Yawning, Shepherd finished with, “Articles you enjoy could be translated….”

Increasing the volume of her hum, Claire watched her mate’s eyes close. Snores were instant.

His COM? She stole it. He could have it back after he slept more than three hours straight.

One of the most beautiful nests an Omega might create when their Alpha was already in it came to life. Claire, humming so loud she would be hoarse later.

He needed this.

The man had been away for almost two full days. She knew he had not slept, that his focus had been on the situation with Jules.

The sun rose, Claire tucked to the side of a sleeping giant. No tutors dared interrupt. Together, they dreamed until dusk.

She bathed. The time spent on her unruly hair… recognizing how badly she needed a trim. How long had it been since she’d cut her hair? Ends crunching between her fingertips, she frowned.

Thólos.

She could think of that place now without vomiting, not that it didn’t sour her stomach all the same.

Making a mess of it, Claire tried to tidy up the split ends by herself. Even with jagged edges, she looked in the mirror and saw something that mattered.

She saw herself.

Green eyes. Scars that would be covered by a pretty dress. Black hair. Pale skin. Cowardice.

“My name is Claire O’Donnell. I am the wife of Shepherd O’Donnell. Our son’s name is Collin. And he would have been two this month.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she looked herself in the eye and stated, “I am going to a movie. Everything will be okay.”

When Shepherd woke, she was already in the kitchen. Trying out another concoction that might make his green sludge taste less like rotting garbage.

Smiling at a man with his hair sticking in every direction, Claire circled the counter to press a kiss to his lips. “Shepherd O’Donnell, would you like to take in a film with me tonight?”

The man’s agitation… Claire was used to it. She even smirked when he accused, “You took my COM.”

With obnoxiously wide eyes, Claire teased, “I called Dr. Osin and enacted Project Baker.”

Rumbling, Shepherd narrowed his eyes. “You should not go through my COM.”

“Is that really what date night was called?” Cackling from the look on his face, tears came to Claire’s eyes. “I was joking!”

Handing him a large glass filled with the most unappetizing shade of green Claire might imagine, she said, “Bottoms up. We are expected within the hour.”

Because it needed to be said, Claire explained to the man chugging down a meal that no blend of fruit or herbs might ever make palatable, “And to be clear, I am not talking to anyone but you.”

One stiff hand hosted a chilled coupe sparkling with a pink drink. Claire’s other palm gripped tightly to Shepherd’s hand, their fingers interlaced. Sweating profusely, she hid her body behind her mate’s mass and peered around him to soak up the quaint cobblestone courtyard.

Pruned shrubbery outlined the formal shape of the space. Wrought iron tables displayed an array of snacks. Cushioned chairs had been prepared for relaxing.

Candles flickered, casting soft light that warmed the evening air.

Not that the courtyard needed warmth. Greth Dome was downright balmy, sticky hot with the season as if the sweltering temperatures of the jungle seeped in—just as snow had once seeped into Thólos.

Yet it was always darker in this new place.

Endless fields of glittering white had made the sun shine so bright in Thólos’ eternal winter. Sometimes… it had been blinding.

Greth was softer on the eyes, despite the bright colors favored by its people.

“Little one, where would you like to sit?”

Speechless, aware of the irony, considering it had been her decision to contact Dr. Osin and order the event. Claire didn’t even know where to begin.

Her husband had planned this down to the last twinkling bulb. She could never pretend it was not extremely pretty and very sweet.

“I think I’d like to stand.” Claire took a sip of the drink in her hand. Pulling back from the coup with a look. “This

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