Page 38 of Born to be Broken

“No, but they would have in a matter of days. She knew that.”

The agitated Beta looked at the old woman as if she was stupid. “So she went somewhere else for shelter.”

“Perhaps,” Nona admitted, debating if it would be best for the young man to have something to hold on to.

“When did she leave, precisely?”

“The morning of your last visit.”

Corday threw up his hands, growling at the ceiling. “Goddamn it, Claire!”

Nona took his shoulder again, squeezed his coat, and pulled him away from the gathering Omega crowd. “Sit!” The Beta male obeyed out of decorum, Nona glaring. “Claire did not want me to tell you who I really am. But I am going to anyway, because you are a Beta and I know you care for her, but you do not understand.”

Nona made him be still, composing herself beside him. “When I was sixteen, I was abducted from my home, kept under lock and key for days until I was sold like cattle—bought by a man named David Aller, and forced into a pair-bond at my next estrous by a stranger twice my age.

“Once bonded, he revealed me to the public again, and my family accepted what could not be changed, even though I begged them to help me. I had no advocate; I was just a bonded Omega with no rights. When I ran the first time, I made it less than two weeks before I began to lose touch with reality. I was found wandering, confused, through the streets. The Enforcer that picked me up took me back to David as if I were a stray pet.

He beat me, a common practice for correcting renegade Omegas. The beatings grew worse, and I ran again a few months later. It was always the same, that unwavering pair-bond to a man I hated persisted and controlled me. I tried everything, every hinted course, but it was the same nightmare. It was ten years before I poisoned him and acquired a new identity. I still dream of him, sometimes I think I hear him… and David has been dead almost forty years.”

Jaw loose, Corday looked at the gentle, old woman and knew she spoke the truth.

“There is no way out of a pair-bond, no recourse for Claire. One of them has to die for her to be even marginally free. Killing Shepherd might have saved her, but her time was running out and she knew it. She just did not want to worry you… because she knew you had affection for her.”

“Claire is stronger than you.”

Nona agreed. “That is absolutely true.”

“She told me herself that the bond was damaged. Why do none of you listen when she speaks? Why do you all assume?”

“Corday.” Nona took the boy’s hand and spun the ring on his finger. “Claire is gone. She gave you her ring so you would not forget her, because she had affection for you, too.”

The man argued vehemently. “She swore to me that she would survive. I choose to believe she had a plan. We have all seen just what she is capable of. I have faith in Claire.”

“I love Claire as if she were my daughter. I knew what she was suffering, what she had sacrificed for us, and I hope you are right. But if you are, the only way that would have happened is if she purposefully went back to Shepherd.”

Gritting his teeth and glaring at her, Corday growled, “She would not have gone back to Shepherd.”

“I agree.”

Beyond frustration, Corday turned and left, furious with the old woman.

The warmth of a large hand softly stroked back loose hair from her face, waking Claire from a dead sleep. The purr was light, enticing her to stir, and from the way the mattress dipped, she could tell Shepherd was sitting on the edge of the bed.

It was the smell that made her comply, the aroma of roasted coffee beans and something sweet. Blinking salt crusted lashes, she looked straight at the bedside table. Sitting in a white cup atop a saucer was a steaming cappuccino made by someone who possessed the skill to create the little pictures in the foam.

It did not take a genius to figure out he had been watching her in the processing plant. Shepherd had heard her conversation with Nona, and he had done this in response.

“Please don’t tell me you kidnapped a barista,” Claire groaned, sleepy, stretching forward to sniff.

“The chef I kidnapped months ago to prepare your meals needed company.”

Claire could not tell if Shepherd was trying to make a joke. Scowling, she glanced up at the man still petting her elongated back and pursed her lips. From the look in his eyes it was clear the brute was absolutely serious.

He picked up the saucer to hand to her, using his other hand to lift and turn her to sit back against the pillows. Situated with the drink in her hand, she sipped and sighed, unsurprised when Shepherd moved the curtain of her hair over her shoulder to reveal her breasts for his gaze.

“Are you enjoying your coffee?”

Shepherd had never woken her unless it was for sex, and certainly not with coffee in bed. Claire did not trust him for a moment. “I am not going to thank you.” But she did take another sip and melted… hating to admit that the drink was really fucking good.