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has alcohol.”

“It’s a local drink, a Caipirinha, with muddled strawberries.”

Tongue tracing a bottom lip sweetened by sugar, Claire admitted, “I can’t even remember the last time I had a cocktail in public.”

All male, grumbly with the pleasure of seeing his female enjoy herself, her husband swelled with pride. So much so, he might actually have burst out of his shirt.

Teasing, she held the drink up in offer. “Want to try it?”

“Yes.” Shepherd fell upon her, taking her lips to suck them clean and then delving deeper to capture every last trace of sugar.

He kissed her as if he didn’t care who might see or how vulnerable they might be when distracted. And then he kissed her some more.

Bending her back with the heat of his kiss, he drank deep—filled her with breath when she gasped for air, and invaded her mouth with his tongue.

Claire… had never been kissed in public. Modest and blushing when he pulled back to take the drink from her hands and swallow.

Suddenly shy, she glanced at the party of strangers to see who might be watching. “I feel like I’m being courted.”

“Hmm.” The man who had woken in her perfect nest and drank his gross dinner grinned.

Shepherd grinned.

“Stop that! You’re making me nervous.”

“I love you, little one.”

Rubbing at her breastbone, Claire offered a very distracted reply, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too. But please stop that. It’s not safe.”

Because if she dripped slick, terrible things would follow. An Omega could never, ever, be aroused in public. She had not committed to this to inspire a bloodbath.

“Claire.”

She’d heard him speak, but she was still checking every corner, praying nothing might drip from her vagina to scent the gusset of her panties.

“Claire,” Shepherd called to her with more force. “Take a deep breath.”

She did on command, not that she would do anything else.

“You are safe.”

Panting, already pulling away, she said, “I think we should leave.”

“Take another deep breath.”

Was he out of his mind? They were outside. In a courtyard. All courtyards in Thólos had been brimming with decomposing corpses. Bodies would have been swinging from the pretty trees. “Will you please stop!”

“One more breath. Hold it and count to six.”

Tears were running down her face, Claire not even sure why. “Gods, Shepherd. We have to go home—”

“Please don’t be afraid. The other women here will look to you, and they are frightened too.”

Unable to bring herself to glance beyond the hands pressed to her face, Claire sobbed.

How had she become this pathetic woman? This frightened rabbit who jumped every time a glass clinked or soft laughter filled the air?

What happened to the woman who had trimmed her hair, who had styled it similar to a fashion she had seen on her COMscreen?

What happened to the fierce mother of Collin who had survived Thólos?

“You’re doing well, little one.”

Embraced in the massive arms of her mate, she ruined the front of his pressed shirt. Not that he would ever care. Shepherd just purred for her. He gave her time.

When the panic began to pass, she pulled away, embarrassed and certain she would never leave her house again.

But a smiling older Omega pressed a fresh drink to her hand, kissing her on both cheeks in a style Claire had only seen in the programs on her COM.

And Shepherd had let her.

Hand shaking so hard the ice hit the side of the glass, Claire took a sip.

It did taste like strawberries.

And sugar.

Lime.

And a sort of liquor that had never slipped over her tongue before.

Huge thumbs swiped over pink cheeks, Shepherd praising her bravery and unabashed about how loudly he did so.

The shift was not immediate, but it was measurable.

Feeling came back to her fingers, then her legs. Thankfully, her dress left her arms and back bare, her sweat hardly making a mark.

Staring up at a man who could exercise remarkable kindness, Claire whispered, “You need a haircut.”

And they laughed.

Because he had seen the tufts of black hair she had left all over their bathroom floor.

Slate gray, iron gray, the gray of a freshly polished silver, the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen—he who stood amongst the social gathering, dressed like a regular man, asked, “Are you ready?”

Heart pounding so hard it hurt, Claire swallowed down another sip of sweetness, quoting Sun Tzu, “Can you imagine what I would do if I could do all I can?”

“Yes, Claire.” Stroking his hand down her spine as he turned her toward the sparkling courtyard, he said, “That is why I fear you above all others.”

“You’re not funny.”

“You think I am funny.”

Smirking, she took another step over cobblestones and moved nearer where other couples were engaged in their own conversations. Then it sank bone-deep. Shepherd won every war he’d ever waged.

Thólos fell. It ate itself just like he’d wanted it to. Greth now belonged to him.

What would he have done to this place if he had found no Omega mate in Thólos?

What would he have done to the world had they never met?

If Svana had...

He certainly would not have filled courtyards with happy people and the sweet smell of freshly baked things. There wouldn’t be pink drinks. The man didn’t care if the air were chilled or balmy, if the music were vibrant or morose. He would never care for the taste of good food unless she held up her fork and offered him a bite from her plate.

Shepherd craved only her.

Moreover, the villain would never deny it.

Patient, utterly still, Shepherd allowed Claire to stare at him in full understanding, purring as if he knew she finally realized her place in the world. Yet the almost unbearable weight of his silver eyes said, “You love me, and there is no undoing it. I love you so fiercely you will never be free of me.”

“Shepherd…” Swallowing, her mouth suddenly dry, Claire tried to find the words. “The responsibility of containing you is more than I can handle right now.”

Unmoved, he offered a simple smile.

Where other breathing humans could see.

Gulping at her drink, Claire gawked at him

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