Page 20 of A Promise of Forever
I recognize his scent from yesterday, most likely Forrest’s brother who'd been in the office. An Alpha, but one who doesn't set off the same alarm bells that most Alphas trigger in my traumatized brain. "Hey, I'm sorry," he says, his voice gentle despite the chaos. "I tried to catch him before he got this far. There's been a bit of an emergency, and we couldn't find my brother. No excuse, of course, but give me just a minute, okay?"
I still don't understand what's happening. My mind is caught in the loop of terror, convinced that any second Wilson is going to appear in the doorway and all this safety will evaporate like it was never real. Even if it’s not possible. I’ve seen the security and I checked every goddamn room yesterday.
More snarls echo from outside the cottage, Forrest's voice mixing with what sounds like another man begging or trying to explain something. Then I hear the Alpha yell with obvious frustration. "Fuck, go check on your Omega! You terrified the shit out of him!"
Forrest's response is equally furious. "Then maybe someone shouldn't have been pounding on the fucking door at three in the morning!"
Footsteps approach the cottage, and I instinctively shrink back against the pillows, making myself as small as possible. When Forrest enters, the look on his face stops my heart completely. This isn't the kind Valla I've been getting to know over the past day and a half. His face is twisted with fury, every feature hardened into something that looks capable of extreme violence. His eyes are so dark they're almost black, pupils blown wide with rage. Every vein in his neck stands out, and the tension in his massive frame suggests barely controlled violence.
I'm terrified of this version of him. This is what people mean when they warn about Valla, when they say these predators are too dangerous to exist in civilized society. This is the monster that Wilson probably expected to claim me.
Even Forrest's scent has changed, the usual coconut and rum now almost charred with the intensity of his rage. The smell makes my Omega instincts want to submit completely, to bare my throat and hope he doesn't decide I'm a threat worth eliminating.
But as he moves closer to the bed, the rage starts to soften, the charred quality of his scent gradually sweetening back to itsnormal protective warmth. By the time he reaches the foot of the bed, all traces of that terrifying anger have disappeared, replaced by concern and guilt. I stare at him, taking in the cut on his lip and the way his body still trembles with residual tension. He hurt someone because of me, because my terror woke something violent in him that demanded blood.
"I'm sorry," Forrest apologizes. "I didn't... I hoped you would never see that side of me."
I’m sorry.
No one has ever apologized to me after doing wrong or something they think is wrong. And yet, in the span of a few minutes, both Forrest and his brother apologized. It takes me a few moments to realize he's ashamed of what I just witnessed. He thinks I'm going to reject him now that I've seen the violence he's capable of, now that I understand what kind of monster society says he is. That fear of being left goes both ways, I suppose.
However, all I can think about is how he went from peaceful sleep to lethal violence in seconds, all because of how I reacted and what I needed. No one has ever responded to my distress that way before, like my safety was worth more than social niceties or consequences. Slowly, carefully, I move forward until I'm sitting up on my knees, inches away from him. I reach up toward his face, my fingers trembling as they hover near his split lip. "Why did you do that?" I ask, though I think I already know the answer.
Forrest's hands fist at his thighs, like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for me. "Because I could feel your terror. It wasn't just being scared of an unexpected noise. It was honest to god, true terror. Your whole body was shaking against mine, and I'm not even sure if you knew it, but you pleaded for it to stop, Sterling. You asked me to make it stop."
I don't remember saying anything, don't remember doing anything except being consumed by fear.
"I don't know what Wilson did to you or whoever else did," Forrest continues, his voice getting rougher with barely suppressed rage. "But fuck, I nearly killed that Beta a second ago for freaking you out. Would have, if Caelan hadn't stopped me."
A strangled sound escapes my throat, something between a sob and a laugh. The admission should horrify me. I should be disgusted by his willingness to kill over what was essentially a misunderstanding. But instead, I feel gratitude and maybe even a little pride that this ismyValla.
"I should hate that," I whisper, my fingers finally making contact with his lip. "But no one has ever done that for me."
Forrest's expression shifts to confusion. "Done what?"
"Stood up for me. Protected me like I mattered more than consequences or social rules. No one has ever wanted to. I don't want you to kill for me. That's too much, it's..." I struggle to find the right words. "But I like that you wanted to. I like that you wanted to make me safe." The admission feels dangerous, like I'm revealing too much about how starved I've been for exactly this kind of fierce protection. But Forrest's expression softens even more, and he steps closer until his lips are just a breath away from mine.
"The world calls me a monster, Sterling," he purrs, his breath ghosting across my face. "Says that my reactions and my emotions make me unfit for society. That Valla like me are too dangerous to be allowed around civilized people."
I think about what I just witnessed, the violence he's capable of, the rage that transformed him into something truly terrifying. But I also remember how quickly that anger disappeared when he got close to me, how his entire focus shifted to making sure I was okay. "But you protected me," I say softly. "That can't make you all bad, can it?"
"I like the way you think, little dove."
His eyes search mine, our uneven breaths slowly evening out until we’re matching each other’s rhythm. "Can you kiss me?" The words slip out before I can second-guess them.
"Gladly."
His mouth crashes against mine with none of the gentle hesitation I expected. It’s full of the passion from the heat spike from earlier, all tongue and need that makes my head spin. Heat builds in my lower belly as I raise up on my knees, needing more. His hands move to settle on my waist before sliding down to cup my bare ass, the roughness of his hands drawing a small moan from me. All thoughts of Wilson flee my mind as his fingers run down the seam of my ass, a shudder climbing up my spine as slick gathers around my hole.
No one has ever touched me like this.
No one has everwantedto, either.
A desperate, needy sound escapes, Forrest answering with a growl that vibrates through us both as his lips trail to my jaw and then down to my neck. I tense against him, Forrest returning to kiss my jaw and then my cheek, not even needing me to voice my discomfort in order to respond to it.
"Brother, fuck, don't hate me, but we've got to go."
Caelan's voice from outside the cottage breaks through the haze of desire, Forrest breathing out a heavy sigh against my lips. He pulls back from the kiss, like it physically pains him to stop, his eyes still dark with want when he looks at me. I frown, confused and a little hurt by the interruption. "Right now?" I'm still shaky from the earlier terror and the overwhelming kiss, and the thought of Forrest leaving makes anxiety spike through my chest. I don't want to let him go and even though this cottage is perfect, I can’t… I don’t want to be alone.
