Page 14 of A Promise of Forever (The Vallaverse #3)
Forrest
Working through paperwork becomes surprisingly easy with Sterling curled up under my desk.
His light snores drift up from below, a soft sound that somehow makes it easier to concentrate on financial reports and fighter contracts.
It’s been less than a day since Sterling came into my world, and yet, I can’t imagine having him anywhere other than right here in this house, at my side.
What makes it even better is knowing that he feels safe enough to sleep this close to me. That he chose to curl up at my feet and let his guard down completely. The trust implicit in that choice hits me deeper than I expected.
The numbers on the page blur slightly as I find myself listening for his breathing, making sure he's still comfortable, still at peace. In the last several hours, though, his scent has gotten sweeter. The apricot and vanilla notes have intensified to an almost syrupy density, filling my lungs as I try to focus. I blow out a heavy breath, calming my nerves as much as I can, but it’s no use; my reaction to his scent making a beeline for my cock.
My lids fall closed, and I rein in my self-control, knowing that my reaction could very well ruin any progress we’ve made.
Unfortunately, the few bits of research I managed to do before I found Caelan and the others in my office all led to the fact that Sterling will go into heat soon.
Most Omegas who have been brought into a new pack tend to go into heat regardless of their last cycle, especially if it’s been irregular.
I quickly pick up the last article, scrolling to the bottom where it mentions heat spikes—whatever that is, periods of heightened neediness and increased desire to be close to their mates.
Given Sterling's recent behavior, seeking out my scent and choosing to sleep at my feet, I'm starting to suspect his body is preparing for exactly that kind of cycle.
I don't mind the idea at all, but the practical logistics concern me.
How is sex supposed to work when I haven't had a real sex drive in years and Sterling doesn't want to be touched?
It's one of many reasons I never considered taking an Omega before. And yet, a few hours with him beneath my desk and I feel like I’m going to blow a load in my pants.
I try to shift a little, adjust my cock just enough to make the pressure less painful, but that only makes the bulge that much more pronounced, my knot already starting to swell. Shit.
Valla are supposed to be these vicious, insatiable forces of nature.
And I used to be exactly that kind of Valla, back when I was younger and less focused on business.
But somewhere along the way, sex became just another biological function to manage rather than something I actively craved.
I still go into a rut every six months like clockwork, but I handle that at a rut bar downtown where anonymous encounters wash away the biological imperative without emotional complications.
Forty-eight hours of pheromone-driven fucking, followed by a thorough shower and complete amnesia about the whole experience.
Clean, efficient, and completely separate from my actual life.
But now, there’s a growing need to give in to whatever primal need this is.
I grit my teeth as I squeeze down on my cock, moving to put pressure on my knot, my scent betraying my intentions.
Trembling fingers wrap around my ankle, Sterling seeking contact.
His hand is clammy with sweat, and I start worrying that I've bitten off more than I can chew with this whole situation.
What if I can't give him what his body needs? What if my years of emotional detachment have damaged something essential in my ability to bond with a mate? What if I can’t go at a faster pace than he needs?
I wait to see what Sterling needs, but his grip loosens a second later, his snores vibrating against my leg.
A chuckle rumbles through my chest as I shake my head and try to return to the papers at hand before Caelan and Thea show up again.
Unfortunately, I’m all out of time. The office door opens in the next second, Caelan and Thea a step behind one of my second-string Alpha fighters, Otto.
The worried look on Caelan’s face tells me that Otto demanded a meeting, Caelan told him no, and then Otto decided he wasn’t going to wait.
Otto takes a deep breath through his nose, his expression shifting to something between confusion and inappropriate interest. A wild smile takes over his entire face as he leans down to adjust his cock. "Damn, boss, you been having an Omega—"
His words get cut off abruptly as Caelan's hand closes around his throat, slamming him back against the wall with enough force to rattle the windows. The sound makes Sterling's grip on my ankle tighten reflexively, the Omega starting to stir beneath the desk.
A threatening snarl tears from my throat before I can stop it, pure Valla instinct responding to a perceived threat to my Omega.
But I don't move from my chair, unwilling to disturb Sterling or reveal his hiding place to Otto's wandering eyes.
Sterling's head appears at the edge of the desk, his eyes wide with fear and confusion as he looks up at me.
Without thinking, I offer him my hand, and he immediately moves closer, settling his head on my thigh while my fingers thread through his curls, the contact calming both of us.
Sterling's breathing evens out as my touch grounds him, and the protective rage burning in my chest settles to a manageable simmer.
Once Sterling relaxes enough for me to regain control, I look up to find three very different expressions staring back at me.
Only Otto looks terrified, though, struggling against Caelan's grip while trying to understand what he said wrong.
I nod to my brother, who immediately releases Otto.
The fighter stumbles back against the wall, rubbing his throat while shooting nervous glances between me and my brother.
"Otto," I push out, trying to control my tone. "I do have an Omega, and you'll do well to speak a little more respectfully in the future. Is that clear?"
Otto nods quickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Yes, sir. I didn't mean any disrespect."
I look down to check on Sterling's comfort level, finding him still pressed against my thigh but watching me with wide, fearful eyes.
His grip has moved higher to the back of my calf, his breaths come in short pants as his anxiety spikes.
"Tell me what you came to say," I instruct Otto, keeping my gaze on Sterling.
Otto shifts uncomfortably, clearly struggling with how to proceed. "Boss, it's kind of disconcerting that you won't even look—"
I hold up my free hand, cutting him off before he can finish what's clearly going to be another inappropriate comment.
"Then you can send me a message or have my brother deliver it.
You are not entitled to my time, Otto. I graciously let you into my house because you are one of my fighters and as such are under my protection, but don't ever think that provides you more than it does.
" The reminder of his place in our organization's hierarchy hits home, and Otto's posture shifts to something more appropriately submissive.
"What did you come here for?" I ask again, my patience wearing thin. Sterling scoots a little closer as I continue to run my fingers through his hair. He offers me a small smile and while I know that he’s not entirely comfortable with the situation, I can see that he’s trying.
Otto glances around the room nervously, then back at me. "This really isn't a conversation to be had in front of an Omega..."
The suggestion that Sterling's presence makes him uncomfortable, that my Omega should be excluded from discussions in my own house, triggers every territorial instinct I possess.
A growl rumbles up from my chest, deeper and more threatening than before. "Mine! He's my Omega!"
The possessive declaration seems to surprise everyone in the room, including me.
But the moment the words leave my mouth, they feel absolutely right.
Sterling is mine, in every way that matters, and anyone who suggests otherwise can find themselves a new employer.
Caelan snorts with what sounds like amusement mixed with relief.
"I got this, brother. I'll debrief you later. Take care of Sterling." He moves toward Otto, clearly planning to remove the fighter from the situation before his stupidity can cause more problems. “Fucker, I told you to wait at the goddamn door, but you just had to come in here, didn’t you? Because what? I’m only an Alpha? Did you forget that I’m Forrest’s fucking brother or that I’m his right hand?
Did you forget that I’m the King’s best fighter?
” The cackle that falls from my brother’s lips is terrifying as he gestures for Otto to head back out the door.
Thea bows her head toward me. “Sorry, boss.”
I snort. “It’s fine. Otto will pay for his disrespect at a later date.
Let the staff know that he’s no longer allowed in the house.
” I catch her frown and immediately follow it up.
“Normally, he’d be banned from the property merely for his disrespect of my time and my space, but disrespecting my Omega is much worse.
Otto, I don’t care what you have to fucking say at this point.
Keep talking and I will make sure you’re fighting shrimp come this weekend and betting on the fishes. ”
That shuts Otto up and he stalks out, Thea on his heels.
Caelan throws me a mock salute for good luck as I throw him the middle finger before the door closes behind them, leaving us in silence again.
I look down to find Sterling staring up at me with glassy eyes, his pupils dilated and his breathing slightly uneven.
"Yours," he murmurs, the word soft and wondering like he's testing how it feels on his tongue. "Yours, yours, yours."
The repetition sends heat flooding through my chest and straight to my cock. This time, I can’t stop my reaction as I spread my thighs to give myself a little more space, a groan sitting at the back of my throat when my knot presses against the buttons of my pants. Fuck.
He continues murmuring the word, each repetition more breathless than the last, his scent shifting to pure sugar.
The sweetness is more pronounced now, edged with something that makes my mouth water and my hands want to claim every inch of his skin.
And then I realize he’s not saying ‘yours’ anymore, that he’s half gone and the word on his tongue is going to make me come undone completely.
“Knot. Sir, I need… knot…”