Page 65 of A Promise of Forever
I head back to the car, resting in the driver’s seat with my eyes closed, when my phone rings. Sterling's name appears on the screen, and my heart clenches with a mixture of love and apprehension.
"Hey," I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.
"It's done, right?" Sterling's voice comes through the earpiece. "I can feel it through the bond. Relief. The anger is gone. Come home."
The knowledge that he can sense my emotional state through our connection is both comforting and concerning. He knows exactly what I just did, can probably feel the violence still humming through my veins. "Little dove, I don't think you want to see me right now," I start, looking down at my blood-soaked body. "I'm covered in—"
"You promised," Sterling interrupts firmly. "You promised to come home to me. Just come home."
I sigh, knowing I can't deny him. "Alright. I'm on my way."
The drive home feels longer than it should, exhaustion and pain finally catching up with me now I have one last bastard to worry about. When I pull up to the main house, I climb out of the car slowly. I'm soaked in blood—most of it Wilson's, but some of it mine. I have cuts and bruises forming all over my chest, and the wound on my shoulder has started bleeding more heavily.
Staff members who initially raced to the car to greet me fall back when they see me, their eyes widening at my appearance. But they're not surprised exactly. I used to come home looking like this more often, back before Sterling, back when violence was my primary outlet for stress.
I open the front door and freeze immediately. Sterling is standing only a few feet away in the entrance hall, like he's been waiting there since I called. His face is pale, his hands clasped together tightly, and I can see the effort it's taking him to stand still and wait for me to move first.
But I don’t know what to do or how to approach him. I know how I must look—like a monster straight out of nightmares, covered in evidence of brutal violence. The rage is still radiating from me in waves, violence clinging to my skin like a second layer. I'm waiting for the fear I'm certain is coming. Waiting for Sterling to recoil in horror, to realize that he's bonded himself to someone capable of such cruelty. Waiting for the rejection that will break my heart, but that I probably deserve.
But instead of fear, I feel relief flooding through the bond from Sterling's side. His face transforms from pale worry to joy, and then he's jumping into my arms before I can process what's happening.
Sterling kisses my cheeks, my nose, my lips over and over again. His hands settle on my shoulders, touching me everywhere like he's confirming I'm real and whole and home.
"Baby, I'm covered in blood and probably other things you don't want to think about," I try to warn him, but my arms are already wrapping around him automatically.
"I don't fucking care," Sterling responds. "He's gone, right? Gone gone? Permanently eliminated?"
I nod, holding Sterling incredibly tight against my chest. "He's gone. He'll never hurt you again, never threaten you or haunt your dreams. You're safe now, completely and permanently safe." Sterling makes a sound that's half sob and half laugh, his body shaking against mine. He drags his nose along the edge of my jaw, scenting me heavily as I just stand in the entrance, completely awed that I got so lucky. "Can I just hold you tonight?" I ask quietly, suddenly desperate for simple comfort rather than anything more complicated.
"Forever," Sterling responds immediately, his voice muffled against my bloody shoulder. "Hold me forever."
Sterling
It's been almost a week of pure bliss since Wilson died, and I'm still waiting for something to go wrong. But nothing does. Every morning I wake up in Forrest's arms, safe and warm and loved, and every night I fall asleep the same way. It feels almost too good to be true, like I'm living in a dream that might shatter at any moment.
However, with every passing moment, I believe a little more that this is our forever.
Because the last several days have been full of sweet moments and hilarious disasters as we figure out how to live togetherproperly. Early on, we had the awkward conversation about what my pregnancy could possibly look like, Forrest obsessively searching so many goddamn terms that I started blushing. His face went through about fifteen different emotions in three seconds after a certain raunchy article, the poor Valla even more overwhelmed than I am.
The only thing we did agree on was the nest part, which apparently is another sign of pregnancy according to all the research Forrest keeps doing. There's now a nest in the corner of Forrest's office, one in the library where I've started reading more, one in what used to be a formal sitting room, and even a small one in the kitchen near the window where morning light comes in. Marcus finds it endlessly amusing, though he's also very sweet about making sure each nest has fresh blankets and pillows.
My attempt at cooking dinner earlier this week was an absolute disaster. I wanted to surprise Forrest with a home-cooked meal, something I'd never really learned to do properly. I found a recipe online that looked simple enough—just pasta and sauce with some vegetables. But somehow I managed to burn the pasta, over-salt the sauce until it was inedible, and set off the smoke alarm twice. Forrest came rushing into the kitchen thinking the house was on fire, only to find me crying over a pot of smoking pasta while the sauce had somehow exploded all over the stove.
Instead of being angry or disappointed, he just laughed and kissed my forehead. Then he ordered takeout and we ate sitting on the kitchen floor, still surrounded by my cooking disaster. He said it was one of his favorite meals ever because I tried so hard to do something nice for him.
And then, there was the night when Forrest came home late fromThe Forge, exhausted and stressed from handling some business issue I didn't fully understand. I was waiting for himin the main room, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. The moment he walked in and saw me, his exhaustion transformed into heat. I made him fuck me right there on the couch in the formal sitting room where his parents used to entertain important guests, claiming him and taking what I needed. Forrest loved it, but I haven’t been as bold since.
Most of my time is spent sprawled out in one of my nests, waiting for Forrest to finish whatever he’s working on before he comes to join me. The night we spent in the courtyard under the stars was probably my favorite, my Valla feeding me little cucumber sandwiches as he described all the things he was going to change for me and our child.
Now, though, reality is intruding on our bubble of happiness. It's time for my first real medical check-up, my first step outside the house for anything more substantial than going toThe Forgeor the occasional drug store run with heavy security.
My heart is palpitating in my chest as we pull up to the hospital, anxiety making my palms sweat despite Forrest's steady presence beside me. Although there have been rumors regarding Wilson or Thatcher's whereabouts, nothing concrete has come back to haunt us. He's just... gone. Vanished completely. And I know he’s not coming back. Forrest didn’t give me any details, but the night he came in covered in blood, I knew Wilson was dead.
Other than a missing person ad that ran briefly in the newspaper and something on the news revealing the connection between Detective Wilson Cromwell and the drug dealer known as Thatcher, there's been nothing. No body discovered, no investigation focused on Forrest, no officers showing up asking questions. It's like Wilson simply ceased to exist.
I blow out a heavy breath as Forrest helps me out of the car and into the hospital, the intake process surprisingly simple before we’re led into a small room. Forrest already arrangedeverything, using his connections to ensure we see one of the best Omega specialists in the region as well as making sure that I’d have my privacy away from the usual chaos.
"Sterling King?” A Beta steps into the small room and closes the door behind her. “You can have a seat on this cot right here.” I timidly move to sit on the crinkly paper, Forrest standing beside me with his hand in mine. “And you must be Forrest, right? Glad to finally meet you. I heard what you did for Rose, that little Omega a week or so ago? Thank you. We need more Valla like you.”
