Page 5 of A Promise of Forever
I lay the rose at Sterling's feet, the red petals stark against the dark carpet. A formal offer of protection and courtship that carries legal weight under gala regulations.
All Sterling would have to do is return the rose to me, and I could claim him as my intended mate. Wilson's authority as a police officer doesn't extend to interfering with sanctioned mating rituals, especially not at an event with this level of political and social protection.
It's not really about Sterling, I tell myself. This is about proving a point to an Alpha who thinks his badge makes him untouchable. About showing Wilson that there are powers in this world greater than whatever petty authority he represents.
But even as I form that rationalization, I know it's not entirely true. Something about this terrified stranger hiding under my desk has awakened instincts I didn't know I possessed, protective urges that go far beyond simple territorial dominance or business calculation.
Sterling stares at the rose with wide, disbelieving eyes, fresh tears streaming down his face. I can see the exact moment he understands what I'm offering. Not just immediate protection from Wilson, but a way out of whatever hell he's been living in. A chance at safety, at belonging to someone who won't hurt him.
Sterling
I'm trembling so badly I can barely grip the rose. My fingers shake as they close around the delicate stem, a thorn piercing my skin the moment I finally grasp it. A drop of blood wells up on my fingertip, but I barely notice the pain. Everything in my world has narrowed down to this moment, this choice between the devil I know and the one I don't.
Wilson is just a few feet away, threatening to take me back to the nightmare of making me the perfect Omega and then there is this Valla.Forrest. This gorgeous Valla, his powerful thighs spread wide as he kneels beside the desk. His suit is immaculate,the kind of clothing that speaks of real power rather than the borrowed authority Wilson wears like a costume. There's a presence about him that makes my instincts want to bare my throat in submission, but there's something else too. Something that doesn't feel like a threat. And he smells like the coconut and rum scent I found safe earlier, but it’s richer now, fuller, overwhelming, but in all the right ways.
His dark eyes watch me with an intensity that should be terrifying, but instead of malice, I see something that looks almost like concern. His scent wraps around me like a warm blanket, all coconut rum and leather with undertones of protection that make my racing heart slow just a fraction. I gulp, my throat working against the terror that's been my constant companion for months. This could be the worst decision of my life. This stranger could be worse than Wilson and could hurt me in ways I haven't even imagined yet. After all, this man is a Valla.
He isthenightmare I should be worried about.
And yet…
Slowly, I hold up the rose toward the Valla.
He doesn't snatch it from me or demand that I hurry. Instead, he opens his hands and holds them out, palms up, making it clear that the choice is entirely mine. That he isn't forcing me, isn't taking anything I don't willingly give. The gesture is so unexpected that fresh tears spring to my eyes.
"It's okay," he says softly, a purr rumbling through his chest. "Take your time."
I stare at his open hands for a long moment, memorizing the calluses on his palms and the strength in his fingers. I take in the raised veins beneath his dark skin that run up the sides of his hands and disappear into the cuff of his shirt before looking up into his eyes, wondering why a Valla would even give me this opportunity. I let out a little sigh and then place the rose into his palm, and the moment I let go, everything changes.
The Valla's expression hardens as he looks up at Wilson, all traces of gentleness disappearing from his face. When he speaks, his voice carries the kind of authority that comes from never being questioned.
"It seems that I absolutely do know where Sterling is. And his name isn't Sterling Ramirez but Sterling King, because he accepted my rose."
King. The name settles over me like a protective cloak, unfamiliar but somehow comforting. I'm not just Sterling anymore, the broken Omega that everyone throws away. I'm Sterling King, claimed and protected by this dangerous, powerful man. Even if for just a little while until the next nightmare settles.
"So, if you'd please leave my office," Forrest continues, his voice dropping to a register that makes the windows vibrate. The true power of a Valla seems to radiate from him as he stands, a whimper sitting at the back of my throat as I lean just outside of the desk to catch a glimpse of Wilson. He can’t see me from this angle, but his entire face is red with pure rage, his hands fisted at his side. However, there’s a tendril of fear lurking in his eyes and I love that for him. I love that for now I’m safe from him.
Wilson lets out a growl of frustration. "Now wait just a goddamn minute. That Omega is evidence in an ongoing investigation. You can't just—"
"There is no violence allowed in this building," Forrest cuts him off, straightening to his full height. He's massive, easily six and a half feet of pure muscle and controlled aggression. "Get out before I have you dragged out. Regardless of your position, get out. If Sterling is part of an investigation, you can formally have him summoned to the station."
Wilson takes a step back, his two companions already edging toward the door. "This isn't over," Wilson snarls, but he's backing away even as he speaks. "That Omega belongs to me."
"Not anymore," Forrest says simply, and something in his tone makes it clear that the discussion is finished. The door shuts behind Wilson without so much as a fight, Forrest waiting several seconds before moving to crouch down by his desk. "Sterling." Forrest's voice is gentle again, all traces of the dangerous authority he used with Wilson gone. "You can come out now. He's gone."
I want to move, want to show him that I'm grateful and obedient and worth the protection he just offered. But my muscles are frozen, my nervous system stuck in survival mode. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to stay small, hidden, and safe in this dark corner where no one can reach me. Forrest extends his hand toward me, offering to help me come out, but I just shake my head. I’m not ready yet. Even if I know that Wilson is no longer out there waiting for me, there’s no telling what is out there.
"Thank you," I manage to whisper, my voice cracking with suppressed tears. It's inadequate and pathetic, but it's all I can manage.
The words seem to break something loose inside me, and suddenly months of suppressed emotion come pouring out in broken sobs. All the fear, the exhaustion, and the bone-deep certainty that I would never be safe again, it all hits me at once. My body shakes with the force of my crying, ugly gasping sounds that echo in the quiet office. I’m not even sure that I’m safe now. I just feel safe, or maybe it’s my instincts telling me to give in and submit, that I sag against the wood and let myself fall apart.
Forrest doesn't touch me, doesn't try to shush me, or tell me to pull myself together. He just stays close enough that I can feel him there. And it feels nice. It feels really good knowing that I’m not just being ushered along or shoved into the next part of my life. But even as I sob, part of me remains terrified. His scent is protective, yes, but it's also daunting. There's power in it, adominance that speaks to the most primal parts of my Omega nature. He could do anything to me, and I'd be powerless to stop him. I blink through my teary vision to see him reaching for me in what seems like a comforting gesture, but it just sets me off.
Panic floods my system and I scream, a harsh sound that tears from my throat as I curl up even tighter. My hands come up to protect my head, my body anticipating the blow that always follows when someone reaches for me unexpectedly.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," Forrest growls out as he jerks back his hand. "I'm sorry, I won't touch you. I won't hurt you."
The apology is so unexpected that my screaming cuts off abruptly. Wilson never apologized. He never pulled back when I showed fear. He always said my terror was my own fault, that if I weren't so defiant, he wouldn't have to be so firm with his corrections. None of my Alphas ever stopped when I said no. They just took. Because I was an Omega, that was what was required of me.
