Page 24 of Brave New Omega, Part 2

Chapter 24

KATIE

I am dragged into the trendy Upper Third Ward district to drop off three suits for dry cleaning, or whatever it is they do here. Then over to an ultra-ritzy row of shops that look like they’ve been painted with gold leaf and placed just right so that the twin suns glint off the gold and glass exterior.

I gape at the building before Loren pulls me in. I feel like a fraud. There is no way that I belong in a place that is literally deep fried in gold leaf.

“Appointment for Pack Murphy,” Loren says to the receptionist, who looks over my rumpled t-shirt dress with barely hidden disdain.

“And who is the Alpha-in-charge of this unbonded Omega?” She asks, eyeing Loren hungrily. She’s a Beta. I don’t know how I know, but I do. She smells faintly of carnations, and she’s eyeing Loren and Max like they are confections in a glass case.

I curl my fist, ready to march over to this scowling, sour-milk-faced bitch and teach her to keep her eyes off my men.

“Whoa, calm down Katie.” Max tugs me into his embrace. “You are giving off some pretty angry pheromones right now, and it’s making me twitchy.”

I bury my head into his shoulder, gulping up the old leather and whisky scent of him. My body is tense, ready to pounce and claw the receptionist to shreds. But that’s ridiculous.

I inhale deeply, then hold my breath for a count of four. I exhale just as Loren rubs a soothing circle over my back.

“She was looking at you….” I grumble.

Jesus. I sound like a delusional teenager.

“And you wanted to rip her throat out?” Max teases. I nod into his shoulder, cheeks flaming, refusing to look up. I feel like a fool. Damnit.

“Aw, Loren. Our Omega loves us– she’s ready to draw blood on our behalf,” Max teases.

Loren moves closer until I’m sandwiched between them. “Here’s another Omega lesson for you, Love: Omegas, when they are with their bonded pack, are incredibly possessive. Although by nature Omegas are submissive, when their packs are threatened, some Omegas have been known to be quite feisty.”

He kisses my neck gently.

“Feeling possessive is a good sign. It means you care about us.” Loren’s voice is tender.

I spin in Max’s arms to look at Loren. This should be something more special than right now, in the lobby of an overpriced dress shop. But every cell in my body is buzzing with the truth.

“I do care about you,” I say, my breaths shallow. My heart thumps in my chest. “In fact, I love you, Loren.” I press my hand to his cheek, and roll up on my toes to kiss him. He lifts me into his arms and kisses me, crushing my body against him without any care of who might be watching.

“Really?” He asks, prepping me with light kisses along my jaw.

“Yeah,” I say, a little surprised. “It feels so fast but you’re just so … damn sweet, and patient. And a good teacher.” I wink at him and he kisses me again.

I am ready to take this giant of a man back to my nest and have my way with him, when a woman loudly clears her throat.

“Pack Murphy?” She frowns at us, and Max steps up, crossing his arms and creating a shield of his body.

“Yeah?” He says, every inch of him transformed from flirty puppy boy, to protective Alpha.

“We have a dressing room available for your Omega. I’m Charlene Davenport, of the West Highland Davenports.” She looks at Loren as if he should recognize her. Loren doesn't set me down, but shrugs making us both bounce with the movement.

“I’ll be assisting your Omega, Miss, ah, Wilder of the….?”

“Of Pack Murphy,” Loren says, leaning forward to kiss my neck. I wiggle to get him to set me down, but he squeezes my ass and holds me tighter.

Fine .

“Right. Well, follow me. We’ve already pulled several selections based on your parameters.” She points to a room with several chairs and a series of glass screens.

“These are for you, Alphas, if you want to see anything modeled by your Omega. But, you must stay here to ensure the safety of the other unbonded Omegas doing their own fittings.”

Loren reluctantly sets me down, before rubbing his cheek over my hair. Max grabs me for a brief kiss, then he too, marks me with his scent.

“Okay, okay, enough,” I say, pushing them away with a smile. A weight in my chest has evaporated, a heady lightness replacing it. I nearly bounce as I follow the clerk.

“Miss Wilder, your fitting room is here.” She leads me around the corner to a room the size of a spacious walk-in closet. A dozen dresses are already hanging on a rack. “The two-way screen is there and you can switch it on and off with the green button.” She points to a large green button, like I’m too dumb to read the sign hanging above it that says: “Screen On.”

“This door locks automatically, so no unauthorized personnel can enter without your permission. The blue button will unlock the door, and this red one will trigger our armed guards to assist you should any unwanted guests make their way inside the building. Be assured that your safety and wellbeing are of the utmost priority for us.”

The whole speech is said with a kind of tired haste, then she shrugs. “I suppose you should try these on. If none of them is a fit, just use the intercom to ping the front desk and I will pick more for you.”

“Okay, thanks,” I say and for a moment she looks me up and down, assessing. Waiting for a command. But what do you say? Should I ask her to stay and help me dress?

“I shall report back soon,” I say, in my best commanding officer tone. She raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow and nods. Then slips out of the dressing room, and the door clicks locked behind her.

Maybe I should be annoyed that she’s not actually helping me manage all these ridiculous dresses. But, I prefer to do this alone.

Okay, maybe not entirely alone.

I ping Layla, setting up the phone camera so she can see inside the fitting room. The attendant left me with a handful of dresses, from short, flirty, party dresses to one that looks suspiciously like a wedding gown.

I fucking hate getting dressed up. At Officer’s Balls, I just wore my dress uniform. No need to maneuver in heels, or wear constricting shapewear.

The call connects and Layla’s excited voice chirps hello as the image blinks into focus.

“Katie-kat!” She shrieks. “Are you going shopping without me?” She nearly vibrates with excitement as she glances from me at the spread of dresses hung up behind me.

“Oh My God! Are you at Boutique Le’Amaata? It’s one of the coolest in Halvassa! Only works with young Omegas – catering to courting packs. They have a whole security team to make sure unbonded Alphas don’t get too territorial,” she gushes.

“How do you know that?” I ask, pulling off my last clean t-shirt dress, this one in heather gray, and tossing it onto a chair. My bra and panties are both caramel colored, nearly nude, but I have no shame in front of my sisters.

“It’s in all the fashion magazines,” she chirps, and there’s the muffled sound of voices behind her. Then Molly Beth plops down next to her.

“Hello Little Bit,” I say. She looks refreshed, her cheeks are rosy, and I think she’s put on a little weight. Good.

Molly Beth rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Good morning to you too. Are you actually going to try on all those dresses?”

I nod, my shoulders sagging. “Unless you like one of the first ones, then I don’t have to.”

“Absolutely not. You are not going to ruin our fun. We all had to try on gowns as part of Omega training – now it’s your turn.” Layla claps. “Oh I can’t wait ! We should really go shopping together. I bet I can get Aurelia to let me go with a guard if one of your Alphas is there.”

I roll my eyes, but grab the first dress, a short flirty confection of purple silk and white feathers. I hate it.

“Where’s the others?” I ask, sliding the dress on.

“Maddie is kick-boxing,” Molly Beth says. “And Norah…” she pauses. “I think she’s still in the library.”

“She’s going to do some of the correspondence courses,” Layla adds. “You know Norah, she isn’t happy if she doesn't have something new to learn.”

I nod, and then huff out a breath. This dress is both too tight and quite itchy.

“I hate it,” I say.

“Good, it’s absolutely washing you out,” Layla says. “Next.”

I grab a simple black one and Layla moans about me always choosing black. Which isn’t wrong, but I slide the dress up anyway.

“Holy Mother of Christ, I think I can see your ass cheeks,” Layla says. “That’ll get your Alphas’ attention.”

The black dress hugs every inch of me, leaving little to the imagination. The neckline plunges to my sternum, showing off all my curves. It would be a hot dress to wear if my intention was to rile my guys up.

“Ah, maybe another time. This is a fancy dinner.” I shimmy the dress down.

The next dress is a floor-length gown of a swishy deep blue fabric, with silver sequins sewn into the bodice. I step into it, and both Layla and Molly ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ over it as I hop up and down, trying to tug up the stubborn side zipper.

“Oh, that’s lovely," Molly Beth says with a sigh. I twirl and the dress flares around my ankles. It’s a beautiful dress, but it’s heavy. The sequins are sewn in clumps all over the skirt of the dress, and it weighs me down. Not to mention it’s strapless, which feels very exposed.

“Love the color, though you are better in warmer, autumnal shades,” Layla says and nods. “It definitely is a stunning dress.” She pauses.

“But…?” I say, hands on hips.

“Well, first of all, it’s clear you don’t like it. So that doesn't help. But it feels like that dress is wearing you, rather than you wearing the dress.” Layla shrugs.

“You’re right; this feels like too much for a dinner party. And it’s heavy,” I heft the skirts then let them drop. “I think it might irritate my knee to wear an extra ten pounds in fabric all night.”

“Next,” Layla says, clapping her hands as though calling for a waiter. I snort and Molly Beth rolls her eyes.

I grab a deep maroon dress, slinky but floor length, with only one sleeve.

“Oh yes, that dress has drama!” Layla nods approvingly. “And the color would suit you.”

I don’t argue–there’s no point when Layla is on a roll. So I pull the dress up my body, carefully sliding the sleeve up my left arm. I look at my reflection. The dress is beautiful, showing off my curves, but not so tight as to be obscene. The velvet has a give in it that allows me to move around more freely. If it weren’t for my bra strap, it would look almost perfect.

“Oh that is the one!” Layla squeals.

“Katie, you look beautiful,” Molly Beth says, clapping her hands. “It’s so elegant. But not too much.”

“You like it?” I look back at them and they both nod vigorously. “Absolutely. Even if you pick something else, get your Alphas to buy that one for you too.”

“Layla,” I say with a warning. “I don’t need to go spending all their money on dresses.”

“Why not? It’s literally their job to take care of you.”

I open my mouth to launch into an argument about how I am an independent woman that doesn’t need a man to buy fucking evening gowns, when Molly Beth interrupts.

“She’s right, you know? Alphas are biologically programmed to care for Omega needs.”

I huff, crossing my arms. “I hate it when you gang up on me.”

“No, you hate it when we’re right ,” Layla says.

“I’m still not buying another dress.”

“Stubborn,” Layla says.

“Bossy,” I shoot back.

Layla laughs dryly. “Look who’s talking.” She sighs. “Katie, they want to take care of you. So try to let them, okay? I know it’s been… hard, the last couple of years. But, good Alphas need to be providers. That’s how it is here. You’re not taking advantage of their kindness, you’re giving them space to be who they are wired to be.”

I frown, tears pricking at the edge of my lash line. I will not cry in a dressing room. Letting anyone take care of me feels so hard. Like the care will evaporate and I’ll be alone again. But this time I’ll be softer, and picking myself back up will be that much harder.

“It’s okay not to be a stubborn mule sometimes,” Layla says, and the tender moment vanishes.

“Hello pot, meet kettle,” Molly Beth says, looking between us. “Just have fun Katie– you deserve it.”

“Right. Fun.” I roll my shoulders, shaking out the tension.

“She looks like she just drank spoiled milk,” Molly Beth laughs.

“Okay, you two. I’m going to go before my Alphas knock down the door to see what’s taking so long.”

Layla and Molly Beth both smirk, and Layla mumbles something about “Alpha cock” before they both say goodbye.

I strip off the velvet gown and carefully hang it up. Care and comfort. Control and freedom. My mind is a torrent. But my body is clear: she wants her Alphas.