Page 7 of A Promise of Forever
I need to move Sterling to somewhere more comfortable, but the logistics are complicated by how he’s responding to even me. I’m not even sure how we get him out of here, honestly. And if Wilson is lying in wait? Fuck, I might end up in a cell for ripping a police officer’s head clean off his shoulders tonight.
As if my brother can read my mind, he gestures toward the door. “Hallway is clear of any lingering threats. Hendricks and his men are gone and a car is waiting for you and your Omega whenever you’re ready to go. Astra’s about ready to kill me if I don’t get back. Need anything else?”
That’s part of the problem. I have absolutely no idea what I need. I’ve never entertained the idea of a mate, let alone someone I want to protect. Slowly, I scoot my chair back from the desk. Sterling makes a soft sound of protest as he loses the warmth of contact with my leg, but he doesn't wake up. Instead, he flops over onto his side on the carpet, still deeply unconscious.
I hold back a laugh before it turns into pure rage, the dim light of the office giving me a completely different view than before. I caught the tears and the tattoos and the fear, but the bruises and cuts weren’t as clear. Now? They show so much clearer, especially the purple fingerprints around his throat.
"I'm going to fucking kill that Alpha," I snarl, cataloging every piece of pain I can see before looking up at my brother. "Go search up Wilson," I tell Caelan. "I need everything you have on him. Financial records, personal history, where he lives, where he drinks, who he fucks.Everything. Right now, I'm getting Sterling home," I continue, looking back down at the unconscious Omega on my office floor.
"How?" Caelan asks practically. "You said yourself you can't touch him."
The question hits the heart of the problem. Sterling needs to be moved, needs medical attention and a safe place to recover, but the terror in his eyes when I reached for him before stops me from just picking him up. The logical thing would be to wake him up, explain what we're doing, and get his consent for every step. But he's exhausted to the point of collapse, and I don't want to drag him back to consciousness just to terrify him again.
I growl at Caelan, frustrated by the impossible situation, and my brother just laughs. "Easy there, protective Alpha," he says, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm trying to help, not criticize."
"Valla," I correct automatically, though the distinction feels less important than it used to.
"Right, Valla. My mistake." His grin suggests he’s having too much fun with this. He throws me a mock salute and slips out the door, leaving me once again with Sterling. The beauty that this place holds now feels distant, the Omega at my feet stealing all of my attention.
I kneel beside him and shrug out of my suit jacket before wrapping the jacket around Sterling's shoulders, before tucking it around him. He doesn't wake, but he makes a soft sound before curling into the warmth, his fingers clutching at the fabric unconsciously.
The implicit trust in that small gesture makes me smile. He’s choosingme.
Taking a deep breath, I slide my arms under him and lift him carefully against my chest. Sterling curls into me immediately, his body seeking warmth and security even in sleep. He makes a small snuffling sound that might be a snore, and despite everything, a smile spreads across my face.
It takes everything in me not to do more than press my lips to his flushed forehead and just carry him through the back corridors of the venue, avoiding the main gala entirely. My car is waiting in the private parking area, the driver already holding the door open. He takes one look at the unconscious Omega in my arms and doesn't ask any questions, which is why I pay him so well.
I settle into the backseat with Sterling still cradled against my chest, adjusting him so his head rests against my shoulder. It almost feels too perfect, like he belongs there, like he’salwaysbelonged there.
My estate comes into view after about twenty minutes, all stone and glass nestled into the hillside with panoramic views of the city below. It's designed to be impressive and intimidating,the kind of place that reminds visitors exactly who they're dealing with. But looking at it now with Sterling unconscious in my arms, I wonder if it's going to feel like another prison to him.
I wonder if that’s how my Omega father felt over the years.
Pushing that toward the back of my mind, I climb out of the car, my staff already waiting as we arrive. They're good people, loyal and discreet, but they're not used to having an Omega in the house. It’s been nearly fifteen years since my parents died and I’ve never brought someone around to the house. The curiosity on their faces is obvious as Sterling comes into view.
Marcus, my Alpha head of household staff, steps forward with obvious concern. "Mr. King, would you like me to—"
"No," I cut him off before he can finish the offer. "No one touches Sterling. Starting today, there will be an Omega in the house. Make sure he has everything he needs, but do not touch him unless he specifically asks. If he needs help, you provide it, but you don't initiate physical contact. Is that understood?"
The assembled staff nods in unison, their expressions shifting to professional attentiveness. They've worked for me long enough to recognize when something is non-negotiable.
"Yes, Mr. King," Marcus replies. "Should we prepare the blue guest room?"
I consider that for a moment, thinking about the layout of the house. The blue room is nice enough, but it's close to the main living areas where business is conducted. Sterling needs somewhere quiet, somewhere removed from the darker aspects of my life.
"The room at the end of the east wing," I decide. "Farthest from everything. Make sure it has everything an Omega might need. Soft bedding, temperature control. Make sure the private bathroom is stocked. And I want a security detail on that wing, but discreet. He shouldn't feel like he's being watched, but I want to know if anyone approaches that area."
After all, the work I'm part of isn't really conducive to having an Omega around. Sterling deserves a space he can call his own, far removed from my work.
I carry him up the main staircase, Sterling stirring against my chest as we climb, making soft sounds that might be words. However, I’m now focusing on how to make everything absolutely perfect for my new Omega. The east wing room is perfect for him. After all, it’s the room my Valla father chose for my Omega father. It makes sense, too, with the large windows overlooking the gardens and the lush, thick carpet that will be soft under bare feet, and a bathroom that's bigger than most people's bedrooms.
The room is mostly furnished already, Beta staff scurrying across the carpet to tidy it up as I slip into the bathroom. Someone has already started running a bath, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus wafting through the steam. Whatever my brother must have told them definitely put them in a different gear. Then again, he has an Omega and he knows exactly which buttons to push.
I set Sterling carefully on the closed toilet seat, keeping one hand on his shoulder to steady him. His eyes flutter open for a moment, unfocused and confused, before closing again.
"Will you be okay?" I ask softly, gesturing toward the warm water.
Sterling just stares at me with glassy eyes, and I recognize the look immediately. Shock. I've seen it in fighters who've taken too much damage, in people who've been pushed beyond their psychological breaking point. His body is present, but his mind has retreated to somewhere safe inside itself.
