Page 10 of A Promise of Forever
"Someone will bring you something light. Just soup and water for tonight, until we see how your stomach handles it." He headstoward the door and then pauses. "Get some sleep, Sterling. If you need anything, staff are stationed along this hallway.”
I don’t even know what to do with that. Moments ago in the bath, everything felt so personable and now, it feels like I’m inconveniencing him. Sure, this is a better alternative to the pain and the beatings, but neglect? I wonder how long it will take before I begin to waste away.
Slowly, I sit up and look around, hating how open the space is. This is too good to be true. No one offers protection without expecting something in return. No one takes in broken Omegas out of the kindness of their heart. There has to be a price, some expectation I don't understand yet. Maybe he's waiting for me to recover before he shows his true intentions. Maybe he wants me healthy and strong before he starts making demands. Maybe this kindness is just another form of manipulation, designed to make me compliant and grateful.
As the hours pass and my anxiety grows, I find myself sliding off the bed despite the expensive sheets and soft mattress. The floor feels safer, more familiar. I grab some of the blankets and drag them with me to a corner of the room, where I can see both the door and the windows. Someone comes in briefly and then leaves, the faint smell of chicken soup meeting my nose, but I couldn’t stomach that if I tried.
No, I’ll just wait here until morning when Forrest King realizes who he took home from theNight of Scarletand decides that I wasn’t worth it after all.
Forrest
I wake before dawn, just like I have every day for the past fifteen years, but something feels different. There's an awareness humming through my body, a hypervigilance that has nothing to do with business threats or territorial disputes. Sterling is somewhere in my house, probably awake and terrified, and every instinct I possess is tuned to his well-being.
The realization should disturb me. I've built my entire adult life around emotional detachment, around the kind of cold calculation that keeps our organization profitable and our enemies far away from our business or dead, preferably dead.But lying here in my own bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness, all I can think about is whether Sterling got any sleep last night.
“Fuck,” I groan as I slip from my bed and trample down the hall toward the kitchen. In less than twelve hours, I’m beginning to see how many things I changed from my parents, how many things I didn’t understand when they were alive make sense now. The upstairs rooms were reserved for guests, the far wing reserved for my Omega father, and the bedrooms on the main level reserved for family because they were closer to the offices, which is where I put the room I currently live in.
But now, it’s nearly on the opposite side of the house from Sterling and I fucking hate being that far.
I huff out a sigh as I swipe a small plate of bacon and fresh cantaloupe from the fridge, mumbling a greeting to my brother, who’s in my house once again. He looks up from his tablet, grinning with a mouthful of eggs. "Well, this is new," Caelan grins. "I don't think I've seen you cook anything more complicated than coffee since we were teenagers."
His Valla, Bryn, another one of my men sits on his other side, feeding Caelan another bite. Caelan happily takes another bite and I just stare, disgusted at how happy they are in their domestic moment. Their pack spends most of their time here since both Caelan and Bryn work for the family, their Omega, Astra, lounging around or picking up small hobbies as he sees fit. “Where is Astra?”
“Teaching a painting class,” Bryn states before eyeing the bacon on my plate. “You making some for everyone?”
I snort, just shaking my head. “I swear to fuck that having a brother who can’t cook and a brother-in-law who burns water is some karma I don’t deserve.” I plate them up on a raised rack before shoving them into the oven and then start on making a fresh batch of scrambled eggs. Just a quick something thatSterling should be able to stomach before I figure out my next step.
"How's the new Omega settling in?" Caelan asks casually, though I can hear the genuine concern underneath his light tone. He leans forward, placing his hands beneath his chin. Bryn purrs at that and I just sigh, wondering if that’s what I looked like yesterday. Every little thing Sterling did made me want to smile.
"He's trying," I tell him, which is technically true even if it doesn't capture the full scope of what Sterling is dealing with. It’s going to be a long fucking road, especially with someone like Wilson on his ass.
Caelan hums as he sits up a little straighter, giving me his full attention. “Brother, your Omega, from what little I saw wasn’t just scared. And from the whispers of your staff? He was broken, Forrest. What the fuck did Wilson do to him?”
“Don’t fucking remind me,” I lash out, cracking an egg into a pot. Marcus steps up to my side and I wave him off, some part of me needing to make this for my Omega. I don’t even know why, but if it’s not from me this morning, I don’t want to give it to Sterling. A small rumbling growl has me looking up at Bryn, the Valla obviously glaring at me with something to say. “Out with it, Bryn.”
"He needs more than just a cozy room and three meals a day," Bryn pushes out. "Omegas need to be nurtured, given attention and affection. The worst thing you can do is ignore him and let him think he's just another houseguest you're tolerating out of obligation. You might think it’s better than the pain, but neglect can be so much worse."
I sigh, moving the eggs with perhaps more force than necessary. "I should never have taken him in. I don't know the first thing about caring for an Omega, especially one who's been abused. I'm going to fuck this up and make everything worse."
The admission tastes bitter in my mouth. I'm used to being competent, to understanding every situation I enter and having clear strategies for success. But Sterling's needs are completely outside my area of expertise, and the learning curve feels a little out of my wheelhouse. Unfortunately, every fucking time he looked at me, I felt like I needed to give him the world.
"But youdidtake him in," Caelan points out, softening his tone. "And I know you did it partly to stick it to that bastard cop who stormed into your office. But you also did it because some part of you recognizes that Omega as yours. You wouldn't have protected him otherwise." My brother places a hand on Bryn’s chest to keep him from reacting, the Valla a little overprotective for my tastes. I understand it when those instincts are toward an Omega, but my brother is an Alpha and I have no idea how that dynamic works.
I narrow my eyes at the way Bryn relaxes beneath Caelan’s hand and then grabs a piece of toast to feed my brother.What. The. Fuck.If I hadn’t seen Bryn nearly rip someone’s arm out of their socket, I would think he was just a teddy bear for decoration becauseJesus Christ.
"A Valla never protects unless it's his," Caelan continues, echoing something our father used to say. "Their nature doesn't work that way. They don't waste resources on strangers, don't risk themselves for people who don't belong to them. The fact that you claimed Sterling means your instincts already made the choice, even if your brain hasn't caught up yet."
I didn't claim Sterling because it was strategically advantageous, even if that’s what I told myself yesterday. I claimed him because every protective instinct I possess roared to life the moment I smelled his terror, because something in me recognized him as mine before I even saw his face.
I grab some toast from the rack and add it to the tray I'm preparing, along with a heap of scrambled eggs. I twist around toglare at the oven and realize it’s not worth it to wait for that. If Sterling is up for it, I’ll bring it to him later. "What did you find on Wilson?" I ask, changing the subject before Caelan can dig any deeper into my psychological motivations.
Caelan's expression darkens immediately. "Nothing good. The man's a predator with a badge, and he's been getting away with it for years. Internal Affairs has had multiple complaints filed against him for excessive use of force, particularly against Omegas. Sexual assault allegations that mysteriously disappeared, domestic violence calls to his apartment that never resulted in charges."
My hands clench around the tray hard enough that my knuckles lighten a few shades.
Bryn cuts in, swiping another piece of toast to feed Caelan, who politely refuses. "He's divorced, no kids, lives alone in a shitty apartment downtown. He’s been caught drinking at a cop bar called Murphy's most nights after his shift. Single-minded obsession with what he calls 'discipline' for Omegas who don't know their place. The man's a walking lawsuit waiting to happen, if someone had the resources to go after him properly." Bryn raises a brow, edging me toward the opportunity without explicitly saying anything.
"We'll deal with Wilson. But first, I need to make sure Sterling is stable enough to handle the fallout." I finish arranging the breakfast tray, adding a glass of orange juice and some medication that might help with his injuries. When I knock on Sterling's door, there's no answer. The silence makes me concerned, and after a moment of debate, I push open the door, even more worried that it’s not locked.
