Page 1 of A Promise of Forever
Sterling
Fuck,it’s cold.
A shudder runs down my spine as I skid around another corner, rain pelting down my face and soaking through my clothes, each drop a reminder that I'm nothing more than prey running through the streets of Murkwood. My bag weighs almost nothing against my back—just a change of underwear, the twenty-three dollars I managed to save from the diner, and a picture of my mother that I can't bring myself to throw away even though she's the one who sold me to a pack of Alphas on my 21stbirthday five years ago in the first place.
It’s been nonstop bad experience after experience since then, Wilson only the latest nightmare that I had to suffer.
My ribs ache where Wilson's fist connected this morning. His lesson about proper Omega submission, he called it. The bruises on my arms throb where he grabbed me too hard and I can still hear his voice echoing in my head, like he always gets when he's really angry."You're not mate material, yet, Omega. You're defiant and don't submit well. But I’ll make you perfect, Sterling."
The words burn worse than the physical pain. Wilson's been saying things like that for months now, grinding away at whatever self-worth I had left until I believed him completely. Every lesson Wilson beat into me was to perfect my submission and my ability to take commands so that I would be his perfect little Omega. But I’m not his. I won’t let myself be. Therehasto be something more than this.
I stumble over a broken piece of concrete and catch myself against a brick wall, the rough surface scraping my palms raw. The rain has turned the streets into rivers, washing away the scents of the city until everything smells like wet concrete and desperation. My own scent has faded to almost nothing, mixed in with the darkness of this goddamn place until I’m just nothing.
Maybe that's better. Maybe if I can stay invisible long enough, I can disappear completely.
But Wilson found me anyway after I’d been working at that greasy diner on Fifth Street for nearly three weeks. The tips were terrible and the manager kept most of them anyway, but I saved every penny I could. Twenty-three dollars. Enough for maybe two nights at the fleabag motel across the street if I didn't eat anything.
It wasn't enough. It's never enough.
Wilson walked into the diner this morning like he owned the place. The bastard Alpha didn't even have to say anything. He just looked at me across the dining room in his police uniform, and I knew my time was up.
"If you want a bite so bad, Sterling, I'll offer it. Make sure me and my friends get good use out of you first."
The memory makes me stumble, bile rising in my throat. Wilson's never actually bitten me. He says I'm not worth the permanent commitment, but his threats are getting way more detailed. He's getting tired of chasing me around the state. Next time he catches me, I’m pretty sure it won't just be another beating.
That thought pushes me forward even though my legs feel like rubber and a cramp tears through my side. I need to get out of Murkwood. Somewhere, Wilson’s power can't immediately follow. The next city over, Millhaven, is my best bet, but it’s about forty miles north. There’s no fucking way I’m going to get there, not without a change of clothes, more money, and a bout of confidence so people don’t smell desperate Omega.
Pain shoots through my leg as I cross the street and stumble through the grass, trying to put more distance between me and Wilson. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull his gun out in the middle of the city, but I can’t take any chances. A fancy car speeds past me, my attention drifting to the golden lights up the hill. It would be just my luck that tonight is theNight of Scarlet,one of those formal mating galas where Alphas and Valla compete for Omega attention. Fancy dress, expensive food, the whole spectacle. Usually, I'd never even think about going to something like that. Broken Omegas like me don't belong in places like that.
After all, Alphas and Valla aren’t looking for someone likeme.
But I remember hearing that these galas provide protection for scarred Omegas. That it's the one night when everyone'sequal, when violence is strictly forbidden, when even cops like Wilson can't just drag an Omega away without consequences. It's desperate. It's probably stupid. But desperate and stupid might be my only options left.
I change direction and head up the hill, every single step igniting the pain through me. My feet splash through puddles that soak through the holes in my shoes, blisters forming on my heels.
Come on, Sterling,I urge myself.Just a few more steps. Fuck, just a few more steps.
I’m pretty sure I lost Wilson at some point, but I refuse to stop moving until I’m safe, or at least what constitutes safe. The architecture is all sweeping lines and elegant arches, expensive cars pulling around the front as Alphas and Valla move toward the gala. I stick to the shadows, trying to avoid the streetlights where someone might see how pathetic I look. After all, I look quite different from the lavish gowns and suits everyone is donning as they climb the steps.
Fuck, I don't belong here. These people are everything I'm not. What am I supposed to do, walk up to the front door in my ripped jeans and ask for charity? But then I notice a sign pointing toward the back. It’s much smaller and less obvious."Omega and Beta Registration."Of course, they'd have a separate entrance. If there's a separate entrance, maybe there are facilities for Omegas to prepare. Maybe I can clean up, find something to wear that doesn't scream desperate runaway and then blend in long enough to find someone—anyone—who might offer protection from Wilson.
I don't need love. I don’t even need kindness, really. I just need someone strong enough to keep Wilson away, someone with enough status or connections to make the cop think twice before coming after me. I'll take indifference over abuse any day. I'll settle for being ignored if it means being safe.
My feet carry me closer to the building, each step harder than the last. Just a few feet from the entrance, my foot catches on a crack in the sidewalk. Pain shoots up my leg as my ankle twists, a cry tearing from my throat as I stumble forward. The sound echoes in the night air as I try and fail to catch myself, my legs giving out completely. I hit the pavement hard, my palms scraping against the wet concrete. My bag flies off one of my shoulders, my pitiful belongings scattering across the ground as I try to scramble for them.
I hold back a sob, desperately trying not to fall apart as I stuff everything back inside, wondering if this is how Wilson finds me. After all, he said I was too broken to be loved. That I just needed to submit to be perfect. That I just needed to give in.
"Whoa, fuck." The voice makes me freeze, my hands still clutching wet dollar bills. "You can't stay here, buddy."
I look up through my own tears to see a small Beta crouched next to me. They're maybe my age, with dark short-cropped hair and kind eyes, wearing what looks like a black suit worth more than what I make in a year. I wait for the inevitable ‘found you’ or ‘let’s get you back to Wilson,’ but it never comes. Instead, their expression is full of concern rather than disgust, which is more than I usually get.
"Let's get you inside and cleaned up."
Sterling
I wake up to the feeling of soft cotton against my skin instead of the scratchy motel sheets I've grown used to. For a moment, panic floods through me until a soft voice reaches my ears. “Hey. You passed out on the steps outside the gala, so I brought you in here.”
I blink a few times as I sit up, taking in the small room. It’s barely larger than a storage space, but it’s more than I’ve ever been able to call mine and the bed has actual pillows, not the flat, stained things from the motel. I then look down at myself to see that I’m dressed in a clean shirt and pants and the cuts along myhands have been cleaned. A frown overtakes my face as I look up at the Beta from earlier. “What—”
