She continues. “Which means that while you’re more likely to get pregnant during your heat, there is a possibility of conception between heats.”
“I should take notes,” I murmur to myself, pulling out my notebook.
Verity smiles at me, but it’s not cruel or mocking, more like an acceptance of my awkwardness. “I don’t know anyone personally, but my friend’s aunt had a baby and her beta was the father. It is possible.”
“During a heat, if a beta doesn’t have a knot. . .”
“There are toys or a beta can get creative.”
“How do you mean?” I ask, eyebrows pinching together.
Verity holds up her fist. “This can appease the desire for a knot and help an omega.”
I scribble a quick note but then the implication fully registers. The woman helping us bustles in with dresses and says, “Here we?—"
“Betas fist their omegas!” I blurt out. “Of course.” The fist would provide something for the canal to tighten around, mimicking a knot. It makes perfect sense.
“—Oh, um.” The woman’s features twist and she turns crimson. “Should I come back?”
Oh my god. I just said that out loud in front of this employee. Mortification has my eyes widening.
Verity jumps in to save the day. “Those dresses are beautiful. I can help Liv try them on if you don’t mind going to look for a few more?”
“Sure.” The woman books it out of the oversized fitting room. Oh, god. Now she’s probably going to tell the other employees. They’ll all know we were talking about fisting, and I can never come back here again. Ever.
Verity stands and grabs the first gown in lilac. A-line. Simple. Understated, yet beautiful all the same. “To answer your question,” she begins, lowering the dress so I can step into it. “Yes. If circumstances are dire, or if an omega likes it, a beta can fist them.”
“I knew knots were big, but I guess I didn’t realize how big.” There’s only so much you can tell from photos and porn.
“And is the pack preparing you?” Verity draws the dress up my body.
I nod. “The pack is really sweet.” I clasp the dress to my chest to hold it up.
She starts to zip the gown. “Have they asked to court you?”
“Yes.”
She nods in approval. “Good. Some packs don’t ask or even court at all, and they’re not worth your time.” Stepping aside, she looks at me in the mirror. “Move your hands.” I do and she beams at me. “This is it.”
“Really?” I look at myself for the first time, eyes widening. There’s a slit up one side of the dress, flashing some thigh, but the cut is classy and appropriate for a gala, while still being a little sexy. That’s perfect for me. I’ll never be a seductress, but even a smart woman like me wants to feel desirable. The lilac material is soft against my skin, and the fit is perfect, as if it’s fate.
“Well?” Verity asks.
“It’s perfect.”
“I knew it.” Her eyes sparkle. “Should we go get lunch?”
“Please,” I beg her with a smile. “Get me out of here.”
She giggles. I’m still surprised Verity actually wants to be friends with me, but I think I could get used to having a friend.
The ball is at the Manson mansion. Shirley loves any opportunity to flaunt her pack’s wealth. Frankly, all the glitz and glam is nauseating, but this is for a good cause. That’s what I tell myself on the ride as Mother makes subtle jabs at me going without a date.
“Honestly, it’s embarrassing.”
“Marnie,” Quincy, one of my dads, murmurs. It’s about all the chastising he’ll do.
“What? It is. My only omega, twenty-seven years old andpackless. Not even a prospect in sight.” She scowls at me. “You should have asked Pack Johnson.”
