Page 45 of For What It's Worth
“Thanks,” Jen said in a clipped tone, not sounding thankful at all.
“What else do you need to know?” Hannah asked.
I bit my lip, debating on whether or not this was the appropriate place to ask questions. But I wanted answers. And media platforms had a tendency to either glorify or horrify alpha-omega relationships.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“Knotting?”
Hannah’s eyes went comically wide. She looked toward her alpha before falling into a fit of laughter. “Absolutely not. It’s only pleasure. At least, it was for me.” I knew what she was hinting at—that there was a possibility I was more beta than omega—but I could feel it. I could take a knot. Not that I was going to share that with Hannah. “Taking a knot is a natural omega instinct, but it isn’t impossible for a beta to learn to take one either. You just learn through experience what makes it better or worse for you. But the most important part is picking the right partners.”
My hand reached to trace the bite mark over my shirt. Choosing Jen, and his pack, hadn’t even been a conscious choice. I could’ve blamed the alcohol, but liquor didn’t make my omega more trusting. It usually had me inside my nest, hating all the sights and sounds of strangers. No, choosing my pack had been all instinct. They were always meant to be mine.
“Anything else?” Hannah asked.
“Honestly? I don’t even know what I don’t know. Betas are simply taught to stay away from omegas—not that we are ever around them. We’re also told beta on beta relationships are best for long term since only the rare beta gets accepted into an alpha-omega pack. And if you are a lucky beta, your job is to take care of the alphas that aren’t being pleased by the omega. And then you are to take care of the omega with cooking and cleaning. It is also your job to remind alphas to buy their omegas gifts.”
The look of horror on Hannah’s face was exactly how I felt learning the information. I remembered how excited she was last night to meet a beta that liked her, and I didn’t doubt other betas had been rude to her. Everything we were taught was a direct competition with omegas that we always lost. Like dangling water in front of someone dying of dehydration but telling them that someone else needed it more and they had to wait to see if there was any left over. And most of the time, there wasn’t.
“Okay, well, you have my number now, so just text me if any questions come to mind. And I’ll text you the number of my hairdresser.” Her own alpha growled in response to her words, but Hannah merely waved him off. “And if you decide you want to be studied, just let me know. Seb would die. Of happiness that is.”
“Thank you, Hannah.”
We finished our breakfast, getting to know one another better on a less serious note, asking random questions while the alphas sat back.
Jen had dragged me back onto his lap when he finished eating, pulling me backward so I leaned against him.
The biggest surprise came with the bill when the waitress handed a receipt to Jackson but told Jen our breakfast was on the house. She winked when I simply stared at her but didn’t say anything else. That slight amount of hope made me hold my head a little higher when we left and said goodbye.
I had been so worried about all the bad reactions that I’d forgotten not everyone was cruel. Just like Jenson and his pack were willing to date betas, there were others who didn’t follow the strict social rules defining their designations. And I didn’t have to put myself out into the world as a beta representative. I just needed to place myself back under the radar and take my pack with me.
Yes, I could do that.
Chapter Twenty-One
I asked Jen to stop at the dorm room so I could grab my things. Most of the stuff in the room was from the academy, but the pillows, clothes, and all my bathroom essentials were coming with me.
Jen had been in my room earlier when I’d gotten ready to meet Hannah, but we’d been in such a rush to make it on time—okay, I was stressed about being late and Jen was accommodating my panic—and now I was nervous about Jen taking in my dorm room. It wasn’t dirty. There weren’t bugs or dirt. It was just cluttered. I’d turned the closet into my nest and didn’t have a better place than the bed for all my clothes.
My alpha was so put together at all times. I was worried what he was thinking of having a messy mate. I was holding out hope I could somehow get him to ignore the state of my room if I didn’t bring it up.
“Do you have a suitcase?” Jen asked, pretending like my room wasn’t bothering him. I winced when his eyes lingered on my bed. My foot tapped mercilessly on the carpet flooring. “Or should we just carry everything down to the car in multiple trips?”
“I have a suitcase. I had to put it away to make room. Its current location is slipping my mind, but I would guess it’s under the bed. At least, if I had a suitcase in my hands now, that’s where I’d store it.”
I moved random articles of clothing that were half-falling off the bed, trying to search under the bed frame. I hadn’t noticed Jen opening my closet until he choked out, “This explains the clothes on the bed.”
Every hair on my body, every nerve ending, told me I was in the presence of a predator. Even my heart slowed, beating softly, as if it was scared to beat fast and draw attention. Still on the ground, my body refused to move, the line between my beta and omega sides blurring.
Jen growled, his dominance in the very sound he made.
My thighs pressed together, as if that would’ve stopped my pussy from leaking. The old scents of my arousal-soaked pillows left my closet, forcing me to inhale them, making me wetter and feeding into Jen’s aggression-filled arousal.
His fresh-laundry scent, mixing with his arousal, was becoming heavy, trying to permeate the air but struggling in the wake of the older scents leaking from my closet. I bit back the demand for him to close my closet door before the scents left and new ones entered. Jen was in charge.
“Come here, Omega,” Jen growled.