Page 45 of A Promise of Forever (The Vallaverse #3)

Forrest

I'm talking with the officer at the door, my phone in hand showing multiple missed calls from Caelan that I ignored during my moment with Sterling.

The officer standing on my doorstep isn't carrying the aggressive energy I'd expect from someone working directly with Wilson.

But Sterling is just a few feet away, hidden from the officer's direct line of sight, and the acidic scent of his terror is absolutely killing me.

Every protective instinct I possess is screaming at me to slam the door in this officer's face and drag Sterling somewhere safe. But I force myself to stay calm and professional, to handle this interaction like a reasonable person rather than a violent Valla whose mate is in distress.

"Can you explain why you're here?" I ask, keeping my voice level despite the rage simmering beneath my surface calm.

The officer, whose badge identifies him as Officer Chen, nods with what seems like genuine respect rather than the antagonism I was expecting.

"When you didn't show up at the police station with Sterling a few days ago for the requested wellness check, the problem was escalated through official channels.

However, new information has come to light that changes the situation significantly. "

He pauses, consulting notes on a tablet.

"There are reports that Sterling is now bonded to you, which means Detective Cromwell's claims about ownership are not legally valid.

A mating bond supersedes previous informal relationships, especially when there was never a legal marriage or registered partnership. "

The information should be reassuring, but I'm still tense and waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Why do you need to speak with Sterling if you already have that information?"

Officer Chen's expression remains professionally neutral.

"We need to hear directly from Sterling that he was not coerced into this relationship, that he accepted your mating bite of his own accord, and that he has no legal ties to Detective Cromwell.

You'll eventually need to formalize this mating union through the proper legal channels, but a statement from Sterling would aid our internal investigation into the officer's claims and conduct. "

I gesture for Sterling to come closer, and I can feel his terror spike through the bond. He steps into view reluctantly, his body practically vibrating with anxiety as he looks at Officer Chen and the other officer standing slightly behind him.

"Hey," Officer Chen says gently, clearly trying to put Sterling at ease. "Can you give us some insight into your relationship with Detective Wilson?"

Sterling's voice is small but steady when he answers. "He's my ex. I left him weeks ago, but then he came after me. He just won't let me go."

His fingers dig into mine with bruising force, nails biting into my skin as he tries to breathe through his panic. I press my lips to the side of his head, offering what comfort I can while the officers watch our interaction.

"And the Valla here," Officer Chen continues, gesturing toward me. "What is your relationship with him?"

"He's my Valla," Sterling says, his voice growing slightly stronger. "He rescued me and protected me from Wilson. Can we be done now?"

He's still visibly shaking, trying to pull back toward the safety of the house, and I can see tears welling up in his eyes. Every second of this interaction is torture for him, dragging up trauma he's been trying to process in safety.

"Just one more question," Officer Chen says quickly, recognizing Sterling's distress. "The mating bite that's been reported. Can you show me and confirm it was consensual?"

Sterling juts out his bottom lip without hesitation, revealing the bond mark that's still slightly swollen and tender.

Officer Chen just stares for a moment, something like shock crossing his professionally neutral expression. Seeing a bond mark on someone who was allegedly kidnapped and coerced must be making him reconsider everything Wilson has been claiming.

"If you have anything else, call next time rather than showing up unannounced," I say firmly, already moving to close the door. "My Omega has answered your questions. The investigation into Wilson's false claims can proceed without further harassment of Sterling."

I close the door before the officer can respond, immediately turning my full attention to Sterling. He's breathing too hard, the start of a full panic attack visible in his rapid breathing and glazed eyes.

"Breathe, little dove," I murmur, pulling him against my chest and letting my scent surround him. "Just focus on breathing with me. In through your nose, hold it, out through your mouth. That's perfect, keep going just like that."

It takes several minutes of guided breathing before Sterling can form words again. When he does, what he says makes cold dread settle in my stomach.

"They all smelled like him," Sterling gasps out. "Like Wilson. They're working with him or right next to him in the department, I don't know. But his scent was all over them."

The information confirms my worst suspicions.

Wilson has other officers helping him, covering his tracks and potentially providing information about our household and Sterling's location.

We're not just dealing with one corrupt cop; we're dealing with someone who has authority and a lot more reach than I planned.

"Maybe we should do something different," I suggest, an idea forming as I look at Sterling's terrified face and shaking hands. "Come with me."

I lead him toward the basement stairs, and Sterling clings to me with growing confusion and fear. "Why are we going down here?"

"To show you that there's a way to hurt without being hurt," I explain, opening the door to reveal my private gym.

"To show you there's a way to let out all those emotions safely, the very same way I learned to when I was younger.

And if it doesn't work, we can go back to the cottage and I can just hold you.

But I don't think that's what you need right now. "

Sterling shakes his head, confirming my assessment. He doesn't want to be held and comforted like a fragile thing. He wants to do something with all the rage and fear churning inside him.

The gym is well-equipped but clearly personal rather than commercial.

Heavy bags, speed bags, free weights, and padded mats create a space designed for solitary violence rather than social exercise.

This is where I come to clear my head after things go wrong at the club, where I learned to channel my Valla instincts into controlled outlets.

I outfit Sterling in boxing gloves, adjusting the fit carefully to make sure they won't damage his small hands.

"This is where I've been coming for years when I need to work through things I can't process any other way.

Especially after situations at the club that require violence and hype up my adrenaline. "

Sterling approaches the heavy bag cautiously and throws a few light punches that barely make it move. He's holding back, afraid of his own strength or worried about doing it wrong.

"I know you've got more power in you than that, Sterling," I say encouragingly, holding the bag steady to give him a solid target. “Wilson isn't here. He can't hurt you for fighting back. Let yourself actually hit it."

Sterling throws a harder punch, and relief washes across his face as the impact reverberates through the bag. He throws another, then another, gradually putting more weight and emotion behind each strike.

"Better," I praise him, adjusting his stance and wrist placement to prevent injury. "Keep your wrist straight, power comes from your whole body, not just your arm. That's perfect."

We continue like that for several minutes, Sterling gradually working himself up to genuine anger against the bag. His breathing becomes harder, sweat starting to bead on his forehead, and I can feel through the bond how cathartic this is for him.

Then Sterling winds up for a particularly hard punch and accidentally connects with my jaw as I lean in to adjust the bag position. The impact isn't hard enough to actually hurt me, but it's unexpected enough to make my head snap to the side.

Sterling freezes immediately, horror flooding his expression. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hit you, I wasn't trying to—"

I laugh, the sound echoing in the small place. "Sterling, I'm perfectly fine. You barely touched me, and even if you had hit me harder, I can take it."

I help him understand through gentle touches and reassurance that he hasn't done anything wrong, that accidental contact during training is normal and expected.

When he finally relaxes again, I lean in for a sweet kiss that gradually turns spicier as the adrenaline from training mingles with other kinds of tension.

That's when I catch his scent again, the strange honey sweetness that's been appearing throughout the day. It's even stronger now, mixed with his arousal until it's nearly overwhelming.

I pull back from the kiss, studying his face with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

Sterling looks confused by the question. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Just asking," I deflect, not wanting to worry him if nothing is actually wrong. "You want to try hitting the bag again?"

"Yeah," Sterling agrees, his enthusiasm returning.

I step off to the side while Sterling starts punching the leather again, pulling out my phone to finally return Caelan's calls. My brother answers on the first ring.

"About fucking time," Caelan teases. "I've been trying to reach you for hours."

"I was busy," I reply, watching Sterling throw increasingly confident punches at the bag. "I'm assuming you were calling about the impromptu police visit, but everything is okay for now. What did you learn about Thatcher?"