Page 18 of A Promise of Forever
The next several minutes, I spend lost in the kitchen, working through a recipe I know like the back of my hand. It’s one of few my Omega father drove into us, a fall soup that works wonders in all sorts of situations. Pumpkin was never my favorite but this particular dish was one I’d ask for seconds of. The warmth that it provides, a slice of home that drags back the good memories, is the reason why it’ll be the first real meal I make for Sterling. And hopefully, not the last.
Marcus glares at me from the hallway as I place everything onto the dinner tray, his brows furrowed with confusion. “You have never done everything before, Mr. King.”
“I never had someone to do everything for, Marcus.” I meet his gaze, wondering where he’s going with that statement. I don’t want to fire him and I really don’t want to be bothered, so I’m surprised when I’m met with a genuine smile. The creases in his expression disappear, the brightness in his face clearer than I’ve seen in a decade. “What? Is it something I said?”
“You are just like your father. Although, it took him a few years to figure it out. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him if I may.” He clasps his hands in front of him and now I’m confused. I just nod. “Mr. King, you will soon learn that society teaches what they think they know, not what is correct. Omegas are not at the bottom of the hierarchy. They are at the top. They are the most precious and the most important. When we realize that, the world opens for us.”
That… makes no sense. I also didn’t think I’d be getting advice from Marcus. He seems to understand my confusion, a dark chuckle rumbling through him.
“Mr. King, my mate used to work here when you were young. You might not remember him. He is too weak to work now, but my Beta takes very good care of him for when I get home. Let me not keep you from Sterling. If you need anything, I’m always available.”
His words have me thinking, though. How many times have I had my staff on schedule, disregarding their packs and their families? It never really meant anything to me. I never overworked them, but I wasn’t particularly cognizant about timing either. Worse, none of them complained. My grip tightens on the chair as I look around, wondering what time it is. My gaze snags on a clock that’s just after 5 pm. “Let the staff know to go home at six. I’ll be with Sterling for the evening andthey can return in the morning as early as they’d like.” The slight amusement in Marcus’ expression is unnerving. Even though I am not only his boss but a Valla, it feels like I am being watched by a mentor. “Fuck, I need to rethink some things.”
Without giving him time to impart more wisdom, I slip back into my office, mentally working through a new staff schedule. How many of them have families? Have I been keeping them from them? Should I know about their families? Should I be doing more? A growl of frustration falls from my lips as I place the tray on the coffee table between the couches, Sterling peeking his head out of the bathroom a few seconds later. A burst of apricot and vanilla hits me all at once, reminding me that I still need to clean up around my desk. That’s a tomorrow problem.
He throws me a timid smile before his gaze darts to the closed door and then back to me, almost asking for permission. “Did none of the clothes fit, Sterling?” He doesn’t answer. “The door is closed and the staff will be going home soon. No one will bother us. What’s wrong?”
He moves into my office, one of my dress shirts swarming his body. I just stare as he comes closer, the sleeves extended over his hands. His dark hair is damp and curling slightly at the ends, and his skin has a healthy flush from the hot water. He looks small and vulnerable and absolutely beautiful. My cock twitches in my pants and I shift a little to relieve the pressure before waving him over to the couch and pointing to the soup with what I hope is an encouraging expression. Sterling nearly sits on my thigh, his legs curled up under him as he leans into my side. His eyes are still a bit glazed over, the haze from earlier not completely dissipated. A small hum comes from him as he glances at the soup and then up at me, clearly waiting for something.
None of the articles explained this shit to me.
When he hums again, I gently take his chin between my fingers and press a kiss to his lips, Sterling going almost pliant against my side. “Are you ready to eat, little dove?” I breathe against his lips. He nods, my chest warming as it finally clicks. He’s waiting for approval. Formyapproval. I must be the first person who his Omega has seen as safe enough to seek it. I know that it’s part of his heat, that he would never do this normally, but it almost makes it easier to gain his trust when his Omega is driving the boat. If I can show his instincts that I’m safe, then maybe,just maybe,I can get to know the real Sterling. “I made you something my Omega father used to make. If you don't like it, I can make something else."
Sterling's eyes widen as he looks between me and the food. "You made it?"
"Yes?" I'm not sure why that surprises him so much.
"But you have staff?" His confusion is genuine, like the concept of me cooking for him doesn't make sense. I suppose most of the other powerful men in this business don’t cook for themselves.
I can't help but laugh at his bewilderment. "They help with the upkeep of the place, not to cater to my every whim."
Sterling leans a little farther into my side, waiting until I bring a bowl to his lap. He holds it close to his chest, almost as if I’ve given him a gift before he starts taking small, careful bites. I watch him eat, cataloging the way color gradually returns to his pale cheeks, how his shoulders relax incrementally with each spoonful. It's amazing what just one day of proper attention and care has done for my Omega. The bruises are still littered across his neck, but I tell myself they’re almost fainter now, that time here at my side has erased some of the nightmare he fled from.
It takes everything in me not to pull him into my lap and wrap myself around him until he feels completely safe. But I know that level of physical contact would terrify him right now andsend him spiraling. So, I content myself with watching him eat, the sweet, content little sounds falling from his lips enough to satisfy me. His scent mingles with mine, the bodywash he chose doing nothing to hide that he’s as smothered in my scent as I am in his. I fucking love it.
Sterling presses himself farther into me, his spoon dangling from his mouth when he reaches my eyes. “Do you like it?” The fragile look on his face almost breaks me as he searches for my approval again. He sits back a little and places the spoon back into the bowl. “Wilson didn’t, but I thought… You said…” His brows furrow as he clutches the soup a little tighter to his chest.
I have to bite back a smile as I give in and pull him into my lap, cupping his cheek in my hand. “Take a deep breath for me, Sterling. There you go. Now, explain to me what you were trying to say.”
He purses his lips together for a moment, his cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. “I saw you. My scent gets really strong when I eat and they would always tell me. But you were smiling. I thought maybe you liked it.” He starts searching my face and I realize he’s waiting for rejection.
Those bastard exes of his actually demeaned him for his scent. If I didn’t already want to kill Wilson, I would now. “I absolutely love your scent, but I also feel a lot of this is just as new for you as it is for me. Maybe in a different way, but it’s a new situation and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” I’m still not holding him the way I want to, which seems to be slightly stressing the both of us out. “Promise me you’ll tell me when it’s too much. Promise me that because I don’t want to ruin this.”
“I promise. Please… just don’t…”
“Never. I won’t hurt you, Sterling. Ever. You have my word.”
He starts eating again as I drop my hand to his hip, hesitating for a few moments before leaning in to drag my nose along the side of his face. Sterling leans into the touch, humming aroundhis spoon as I continue exploring. He arches his neck to the side, allowing me more room. I relish the moment, drinking in his sweetened scent until he finishes and holds the bowl up to me. "It was very good. Thank you, sir," he whispers before meeting my eyes.
The gratitude in his tone makes me smile despite the circumstances. "My father would be very happy to know that I can make it right. He spent years trying to teach both me and Caelan how to cook, convinced we'd starve to death if we relied entirely on restaurant food." I press another kiss to his forehead before taking his bowl and setting it down beside my untouched one. I’ll eat once he’s asleep. Sterling hums appreciatively, the sound vibrating through his whole body as he relaxes into the affection. His scent spikes sweeter for just a moment before settling back to the baseline of approaching heat. "Let's get some sleep, alright?" I suggest, recognizing the exhaustion in his posture despite his obvious desire to stay close to me.
Sterling's expression immediately shifts to something close to panic. "I don't want to go to that room, though. I can stay here. Maybe? I won't make any noise. I..."
His words tumble over each other in his anxiety. My initial reaction is anger, the notion to tell him to just stop worrying an immediate response, but it gives way as I realize what feels like weeks of time together has only been a day. I still don’t have his trust, not fully. But I will. I hold him a little tighter to my chest, Sterling turning his face into my neck. "Hey, deep breaths. There you go. I'm not going to take you back there. I have something else in mind. Something a bit cozier."
The relief that floods Sterling's body is almost painful. I stand, keeping him in my arms, Sterling making a small sound of surprise before curling into my hold, his arms wrapping around my neck for stability. "Where are we going?" he asks, his voice muffled against my shoulder. "I can walk."
"You don't have any shoes on," I point out, already moving toward the back of the house once I exit the office. "And we're going outside."
