Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 63920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Again he gave her space when she walked away.
When she got to the table, out of nowhere she set her fist to the wood and snapped at him, “Why did you not bring a tray?”
Because he had spent the last hour in conference with Jules, furious to find that Svana had indeed stripped off every stitch of clothing she’d worn underground and stashed them in an abandoned home. “Your meal is being prepared as we speak.”
“Oh...” Recognizing her rudeness, the blush in Claire’s cheeks, the tone of her voice, was self-conscious. The flush deepened an instant later, embarrassment replaced with growing agitation.
She circled back to the bed, brushing past Shepherd and began to sniff the air again. Turning on him, eyes narrowed, the hiss came back to her voice. “Something is wrong with this room. Did you change something while I was sleeping? Move something?” Her attention darted all over, Claire growing breathless. “Fix whatever you did.”
Shepherd narrowed his eyes, unamused with the strangeness of her behavior. “I have changed nothing.”
“No. no.” She looked at him, had the nerve to point and blame. “Something is different; something is not right in here.”
“There has been no alteration, little one.”
She growled and fisted her hands. Right before it seemed she might start shouting, she seemed to snap out of it. Confused, Claire forced a softer tone, stammering, “Of course not... Everything looks the same.”
“Is there something that you desire for the room?” Shepherd cocked his head, measuring her every breath. “Something you think is missing from our nest?”
“No.” She tugged her hair, once again looking around and very uncomfortable. “Yes.”
“You are behaving as if your nest were threatened.” As if that explained everything, the man crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to confirm that he was correct.
The weight of the glare she leveled at him was monumental. Rationality fled and Claire shrieked, “It is, you jackass. The room is wrong. FIX IT!”
“In what way?”
Was the man an idiot? Beyond caring, she threw up her arms. “I DON’T KNOW! If I knew what you had done to the room, I would fix it myself.”
“Do you want me to leave?” This was not normal; Shepherd needed her normal. “To retrieve your meal at once?”
“Yes.” She spun around, changing her mind, “No. You have to stay. This is your fault. You don’t get to leave until you fix whatever you did.”
Shepherd stood taller, commanding, “On the bookshelf, top far right, is a book with a white cover. Bring it to me.”
Claire huffed, shuffling her bare feet over to what he demanded. She grabbed the only white book and threw it right at the man. It bounced off his chest, landing on the concrete with a thud.
The Alpha growled—it was not the guttural call to mate, it was a warning, a threat, and something that would have sent grown men white as a sheet. Claire ignored it, choosing instead to wring her hands and pace.
He came upon her so quickly that when a great arm slipped around her middle and hoisted her up, she shrieked in surprise. Once seated at his desk, Shepherd pulled her to his lap, held the squirming Omega still, and opened the book. The giant flipped through the pages, stopping when he found a marker, and raised the book to the female’s eye level. “This is what our baby looks like in his current week of development.”
Claire stiffened, staring at the glossy page.
He tapped an underlined paragraph. “And here it says that at this stage in pregnancy, hormone fluctuations will occasionally make you exhibit irrational behaviors.” The arm about her middle tightened, the greatly irritated male growling, “Take note, little one, that I am being extremely indulgent of you at this moment.”
She felt his nose at the back of her head, heard his deep intake of breath, and read the book’s offered list of tips for the father. He was right, she was acting crazy. Nodding, she admitted, “I think you may have followed ‘how to handle pregnancy mood swings’ to the letter: ‘Do not argue, offer food...’”
A small gleam in his eye, Shepherd agreed. “I did.”
She was a little embarrassed. “Considering your temper, I suppose I should be impressed.”
With the mood seeming to have passed, Shepherd sought out the trigger. “Articulate what brought on your distress.”
“I have no idea.”
The Alpha had the audacity to chuckle, the skin at the corner of his eyes creasing.
Still annoyed, Claire muttered, “You’re a bastard.”
He gave her hip a light smack. “Watch your mouth.”
She began to protest, wanting up. “But the room is wrong, I can feel it. And I need more chocolate, and I hate the grey walls, and I have this weird urge to eat charcoal, and you stink of Svana.” Her mouth snapped shut, green eyes beginning to burn once she recognized the truth in her words. He did reek of Svana! Growling like she might rip out his throat, a haze of fury clouded her every thought. “That is what is wrong with the room!”