Page 31 of A Promise of Forever
"Do you need anything else?" I ask, hating that I have other work calling my name.
Sterling shakes his head, then lifts his face to look at me directly. His eyes are soft and trusting in ways that make my chest ache. "No, you came down here for me. That's more than enough."
"I'll always come down here for you," I promise and I mean it. I've always bent over backward for family and Sterling is so much more. He'smyOmega and I'm quickly seeing that not only am I ready to give him the world, but I'd be ready to set it aside for him. "Whenever you need me, wherever you are, I'll come. That's what being mine means, little dove. You're my priority now."
Sterling's expression transforms into something so bright and hopeful that it's almost painful to witness. Like he's starting to believe,reallybelieve, that someone might actually choose him first.
Sterling
The rest of the day passed in a blur of sweet touches and stolen kisses, punctuated by little sandwiches that staff dropped off without disturbing us. Forrest couldn't stay cramped under the desk forever, but I found some confidence emerging as the hours passed. I started sitting beside him at his desk, content to watch him work without feeling uncomfortable being out in the open.
Eventually, I began wandering the walls of his office, my fingers trailing along the spines of leather-bound books and picking up small trinkets that told stories about Forrest's life I didn't know yet. A carved wooden wolf, a framed photograph oftwo women and a smaller boy who must have been Forrest as a child, a collection of what looked like antique coins displayed in a shadow box.
Every time I looked back over at my Valla, he'd be smiling. Not the dangerous expression he shows the world, but something content and genuinely happy that made me return the gesture. Each smile gave me even more confidence to keep exploring, to claim more space in his world as my own.
But now, standing just outside the empty fighting ring that I saw earlier from the box up on the balcony, all that confidence has evaporated. The small bit of anxiety that's been growing in my chest all day for the evening's fights is now at full blown panic, my hands trembling and my breaths coming a little too fast.
The spotlight shines down on the middle of the stage, illuminating the space where people will soon be hurting each other for entertainment and profit. Standing inches away from the ropes around the edge, I stare up at the elevated platform, and I can't quite make myself understand why this exists.
I swallow nervously, even with Forrest right behind me. Terror is trying to claw its way into my thoughts, dragging up memories of Wilson's fists and the casual violence that marked every day of my old life.
"What are you thinking, Sterling?" Forrest murmurs against my ear, concern coating his words. "Talk to me, little dove. Do we need to go home?"
I shake my head, pressing myself back against Forrest's chest and seeking the security of his scent. He wraps his arms around me immediately, his coconut and rum smell surrounding me.
Forrest didn't make it all that obvious, but I figured out over the course of the day how important tonight's fights are. New fighters to evaluate, business deals to finalize, territory to establish now that he's taken over Dorian's operation. I'vecaught pieces of conversation and tried to make sense of it but most of it makes my head swim.
So, instead of forcing myself to figure it out, I'm trying to be brave, trying to understand this part of his world, but I just can't wrap my head around why people would want to hurt each other like this.
I step closer to the ring and reach out to touch one of the ropes, the rough material foreign under my fingertips. My nostrils flare as I catch the layered scents around this place. Sweat and blood and adrenaline, old and new, creating an atmosphere that makes my Omega instincts scream danger.
A sound from somewhere in the building makes me twist around suddenly, my heart beating faster as panic floods my system. But then Forrest is right there, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me softly, grounding me with his touch.
I sag against him, embarrassed by my overreaction but grateful for his immediate response. "Let me take you home," he murmurs against my lips.
"No!" The word comes out sharper than I intended. "I'm just processing. I want to understand this."
My eyes dart toward the entrance where I heard the noise, then back to Forrest's face. He tilts his head to the side, studying my expression, and I can see the exact moment realization dawns in his dark eyes.
"Sterling," he says, his voice taking on a much softer tone. "The only people in this area right now are my security team. I hired them specifically to ensure that no one steps into this space until you get all the answers you need. When you're satisfied, we'll go up to the box. And no one will be allowed in there except for my brother's pack, Lorcan, and Thea."
The explanation helps, but one detail sticks out. "Not even the waiters?"
Forrest frowns, concern flickering across his features. "Are you hungry? I'll make sure there's food brought up for you, sweetheart."
"No, I just..." I struggle to articulate why that detail matters.
Forrest's expression softens with understanding. "Only the people I inherently trust are allowed up there on nights like these. No staff except Thea and Lorcan, who you've already briefly met. No one who hasn't earned my complete confidence over years of loyalty."
I nod, the reassurance settling some of my anxiety. I turn back to look at the ring again, trying to see it through Forrest's eyes rather than my own traumatized perspective.
"Would you like to speak with one of the fighters?" Forrest offers. "They're warming up in the back. I could introduce you to someone who could explain what they get out of competing."
My nose scrunches up instinctively, and I shake my head. It's not that I'd necessarily be scared of them, but being around another Alpha right now when I'm already overwhelmed feels like too much. The thought of strange scents and dominant energy pressing on my Omega instincts makes my skin crawl.
I shake my head again, more firmly this time, and Forrest accepts the refusal without question.
"Did you ever fight?" I ask instead, curious about his personal experience with this world.
