Page 34 of A Promise of Forever (The Vallaverse #3)

Recognition dawns on Alistair's face. "You're going to do to me what you did to Dorian? Break my bones and ruin my career?"

I shake my head slowly, letting the anticipation build. "No, we didn't rip Dorian's dick off."

The words hang in the air for a moment as Alistair processes what I just said. His eyes go impossibly wide, understanding and denial warring on his face. He opens his mouth to protest or beg, but I don't give him the chance.

I twist harder with my hand, applying more pressure to his cock, relishing the way the tender flesh gives beneath my strength.

Then I yank forward, the awful sound of skin tearing hitting the air.

There's a moment of resistance, tissue struggling to maintain integrity, and then everything gives way at once.

Silence falls over the room for a split second. Then blood spurts in a gushing stream as Alistair lets out an agonized howl. One of the guards immediately slaps a hand over the Alpha's mouth, muffling the screams before they can attract unwanted attention from the venue outside.

Alistair's pants soak through completely with blood, the blade very much still stuck in his thigh.

I grin at the destruction I've caused, satisfaction flooding through my system like a drug. For some reason, though, it’s not enough.

I drag the knife from his thigh and slice through his pants, revealing the lingering tendons still attached to his dick.

Alistair makes some kind of strangled plea but I ignore it, enjoying the way the blade slices through the flesh to give me what I need.

“It’s smaller than I thought, which is a shame because I already felt how small it was.

” I grin at the Alpha desperately trying not to cry out.

Just fifteen minutes ago, he was on track to be one of the better fighters on my roster and now, he’s just here, without a dick, and without any dignity left.

I wiggle the appendage in my hand, snorting at the way it flops over the side of my fingers before gesturing for the guard to release him. The moment Alistair’s mouth is uncovered, he’s already spouting curses.

“You fucking bitch! Jesus Christ, you’re a sadistic piece of shit! I’m going to bleed out, Forrest. Fuck! You tore off my cock!”

“Are you done?” I tilt my head to the side, loving the way his face contorts in a mixture of agony and anger.

My calm demeanor is pissing him off which just makes me want to stay here longer and watch the light go out in his eyes but if he loses too much blood, he’ll die.

And I’m not going to disrespect my Omega’s wishes.

I huff out a sigh and stand up just as Alistair opens his mouth again.

I shove the appendage between his lips before the guard reattaches his hand to the Alpha’s mouth, muting any sounds he tries to make.

I twist around to look at Lorcan, who's been watching the entire proceeding with obvious appreciation.

"I have a job for you. Make him hurt, but don't let him die. He needs to survive long enough for everyone to see what happened to him. He’ll probably try to choke on that pindick of his so you’ll have to retrieve that at some point. "

Lorcan's expression shifts into something almost gleeful. "Gladly. Always happy to take on special projects."

Lorcan isn't just an enforcer in the traditional sense.

He's also a bit sadistic in ways that most people find deeply disturbing.

The Valla was a medical student before he quit to work for our organization, which means he has special knowledge about anatomy and physiology.

He knows exactly how to keep people alive through unimaginable pain, how to inflict maximum damage without triggering shock or system failure.

Right now, that specialized knowledge is exactly what's needed.

I stand up and move toward the small sink by the desk in the back of the office, needing to wash Alistair's blood and urine off my hands before I can go back to Sterling.

The water runs red for several seconds as I scrub methodically, using the harsh industrial soap to get under my fingernails and into the creases of my palms.

Behind me, Alistair is still squirming and screaming despite the guard's hand over his mouth. Lorcan is already setting up his tools, laying out instruments with the careful precision of someone who takes pride in their craft.

I pat Lorcan on the shoulder as I head toward the door. "Have fun. And make sure someone documents the aftermath for our records. I want photos that we can share with other clubs in the network."

Lorcan looks up from his preparations, one eyebrow raised. "You're not staying to watch? I thought you'd want to see this through to the end."

"I wish I could," I admit honestly. "But I promised Sterling we'd go home after I dealt with this situation. And if I stay here watching you work, I'll be too pent up with adrenaline and violence. Sterling isn't ready to see me like that yet."

Lorcan smirks, pulling out a scalpel. "That Omega is good for you. Don't fuck it up by letting him see you covered in blood and high on violence. Go home, take a shower, and be the version of yourself he needs."

I nod my appreciation for the advice and step out of the room, closing the door behind me on Alistair's muffled screams. The hallway outside is quiet, insulated from both the office and the main venue, giving me a moment to breathe and try to center myself.

I head toward the back stairs that lead up to the private parking area, pulling out my phone to message Caelan. The text is simple and direct: Bring Sterling to the car. We're going home.

As I walk out onto the pavement through the back door of the club, I wonder if Sterling will ever be ready to see me in that state after one of Lorcan's kills.

My hands are clean now, but I can still smell the blood and violence clinging to my clothes.

My heart is racing with adrenaline, and every muscle in my body is coiled tight with the need for more violence or sex or some other outlet for the energy consuming me.

Sterling isn't ready for that version of me. He's barely gotten comfortable with the controlled, gentle Valla who feeds him breakfast and holds him in our nest. Or the slightly pent up version after someone has disturbed Sterling or crossed me.

Confronting him with the monster who just mutilated someone or watched someone get pulled apart would shatter whatever progress we've made.

I have maybe a minute before Sterling appears, one minute to figure out how to calm my nerves and present a version of myself that won't terrify my Omega completely.

I focus on breathing deeply, on thinking about Sterling's soft hair and sweet scent, on the way he smiles when I call him little dove.

But even as I try to center myself, I know that a minute isn't going to be enough. The violence is still too fresh, the satisfaction too consuming. I just have to hope that Sterling will be able to look past the darkness in my eyes and see the person underneath.