Chapter 7 – Shiloh
Chapter Seven
Shiloh
I t takes me two days of mentally tearing myself apart and eating my body weight in ice-cream before I finally suck it up and book an appointment with my doctor.
How the fuck did I let myself get worked up like that? Zale blackwood wasn’t worth the dirt on my shoe, let alone a tussle in the stacks. I don’t know why I lost it with him, pressing us up against the shelves. What was with the hazy look in his blue eyes when he rocked his body against mine?
And we’re not even going to think about how I got hard for him. What the heck was that? Something was wrong with me. It wasn’t normal to get turned on by fighting with your sister’s boyfriend.
Sweat begins to drip down my spine as I try to focus. Clearly my suppressants were messing with my hormones and my upcoming heat. Hopefully, Zion would be able to prescribe something stronger. Something to take the edge off or at least put a stop to the insanely intense dreams I’ve been having the last two nights. Intense dreams about a huge blond footballer pinning me down and fucking me senseless.
Stretching into the next pose, I ignore the way Bell is just sitting on their mat staring at me, with a sucker in their mouth. They're still wearing their pajamas–well, the clothes they sleep in, which is usually either a crop top or an oversized jumper, a pair of shorts with thick socks.
“What?” I grunt as I try to hold the plank position, but my stomach feels like it’s on fire. The burn spreads through my limbs and I try not to think about how he smelled like a campfire, smokey and rich as the heat from his body soaked through my clothes. Fuck.
“So, what’s got you all twisted up?” Bell asks as they start rocking back and forth. We decided to try yoga during our first year, when they used to run a Monday morning session near the student union building. Bell was always less serious about it, which was frustrating when they were the one who was a natural at it.
Exhaling slowly, I blink. “Huh?”
Bell lays back, so that they’re lying on the floor next to me, the sucker making their cheek bulge. “You only bring out the yoga mats when you’re all worked up and bent out of shape like a puff pastry twist.”
“A pastry twist is meant to be bent out of shape.” Shifting into a sitting position, I huff a little laugh, pushing back my sweaty bird's nest hair. “And I do not. I do yoga. Regularly.”
Bell’s legs lift as they play around, mocking me with their gracefulness. It didn’t matter that I was on suppressants or that I lived like a Beta, I would never be an omega like Bell or Millie. I was a pale imitation of my sister, and not even one fifth as graceful or delicate as either of them. I’m angry at my body, for wanting an alpha like Zale when I know that’s not the life ahead of me.
“No, my friend. You do angry yoga.” They give me a pointed glare as they look like some sort of strange synchronized swimmer moving their legs, but you know, on the floor of a student apartment. “Occasionally.”
“It’s nothing, just working with Blackwood on my class project. Stupid jock.” Lifting my arms above my elbow, I push down on one elbow, stretching out as part of my cooldown.
“Oh, is he not pulling his weight?” Bell leans up on their forearms, sucker in their hand now as their eyebrows draw together. “Because you can always talk to the lecturer.”
With an exaggerated groan, Bell rolls over onto their stomach, before resting their chin on their hands and kicking their legs like some sort of pin-up. Who has a sucker this early in the day? Sugar addicts, that’s who.
I swallow, thinking about the email Zale had sent yesterday with his notes and an outline for the presentation. He hasn't mentioned anything about my little outburst in the library, or the fact that I’d basically rubbed my dick on him. “No, he’s doing the work. He’s just getting under my skin.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re sexually frustrated?” With a loud ‘pop’ they pull the sucker from their mouth, their lips glossy and sticky as they give me a knowing look.
“Don’t go there.”
“I know it’s a touchy subject for you…but a new store just opened up in Riverview.” They wink playfully, nudging me with their foot. “We should go.”
“What kind of store?” I ask slowly, narrowing my eyes. It was unlike Bell to want to venture very far when their heat was encroaching, instead they preferred to nest in the apartment and ideally get their brains fucked out by a handsome, willing alpha.
“The BEST kind.”
An hour later, as I’m standing inside what can only be described as the sluttiest store I’ve ever been in, I’m almost inclined to agree. Velvet Knot has this almost decedent feel, with deep green damask wallpaper, gold accents, huge black and white boudoir shots decorating the walls and crushed velvet curtains at the back leading towards the changing rooms. My gaze lingers on the mirrored ceiling, and I scan my eyes over all the toys and accessories. They have rows of sleek sex toys along one wall, all displayed under spotlights. Racks of lace, silk and leather are showcased beautifully to our left. Shelves containing devices and tools I never could have even dreamt up surround us, and I feel almost spoiled for choice as I lift a black anal plug with a knot feature.
“Shilly, what do you think about this? It lays eggs!” Bell’s head pops up over a nearby rack and they’re lifting something up with what looks like a giant tentacle on the box.
“Lays eggs where?” I ask, even though I have a strong feeling I know what the answer is going to be.
Bell snorts, and I can only see the top of their blond curls as they bow their head to read the box. “Where do you think? D’uh.”
“I have so many questions.” I’m chuckling as I take a closer look at a different kind of tentacle, this one swirled with shades of shimmery blues and purples, and a big bulbous knot near the base. It even comes with a suction cup base. Hmmmm, interesting. The toy next to it looks like a tongue with huge notches, reading the sign I realize that it vibrates. Another one on the shelf below looks like a weird mushroom and comes with a pump, so the silicone can ejaculate. A rose next to it has a sucking feature. Was there a botany fetish I’d missed?
“Ohhhhh, Jell-o solution. Dissolves slowly with body heat so I guess it’s either push or leave to melt.” Bell sounds curious as they keep hold of the box, turning it over to read the other side. “Ovipositor. Doesn’t that sound interesting?”
“That sounds messy.” I add the tentacle with the knot to my shopping basket.
The store is an omega safe space, meaning that it caters exclusively to omegas and the occasional curious beta (like I’m pretending to be) since omega biology and therefore their needs are different. During a heat, omegas are driven wild by the need to breed–and in modern society, that isn’t always what the omega wants. Toys have been developed to help and while it doesn’t compare to a real alpha partner, it can take the edge off the impulses. I should know, I have a fairly decent collection of toys myself. This isn’t my first rodeo, or tentacle.
“Isn’t sex supposed to be messy?” Bell replies as they wander back to me with the box still in their hand. Their basket is bulging a little, and I swallow back another chuckle.
Despite the interior, Velvet Knot clearly tries to take discretion seriously. At the counter, I watch as the sales assistant packages an omega’s purchases in generic black and white boxes, with a sort of monoline design. The windows are blacked out and there’s security near the door. Even the shopping baskets are black, stopping anyone else from peeking inside unless they’re standing very close.
I nod, “True.”
Not just physically messy, I’d learned. But mentally and socially, as Sadie and her gaggle of witches liked to remind me. Oh goddess, the thought of running into Sadie here has my stomach clenching.
“You can get flavors!”
“Yes, because having a mango flavored egg shoved up my ass is exactly what I need today.” Rolling my eyes, I grab a bottle of lube from a different shelf.
Male omegas usually produce slick when they’re turned on or in heat, much like their female counterparts do. Since I was masquerading as a beta, and the suppressants were messing with my hormones, I tended to need a little helping hand of the slippery water-based variety.
“Jeeze, grumpy.” Bell tuts, coming next to me to nudge me with their shoulder. “You could always just get the strawberry.”
I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles its way up my throat. This is why I love Bell, because they make it all so…easy. It’s not that they’re suggesting a ridiculous sex toy that will deposit Jell-o eggs in my ass, but the flavor of said Jell-o eggs that’s the problem.
“Come on, let’s go pay for these before you decide I need the giant Demogorgon dildo.” We both turn to look at the humongous purple and red beast displayed on a plinth in the middle of the store. A shiver rolls through me. Despite pretending otherwise, I was an omega, and I liked the feel of a knot…but that dildo was extreme. Only for the brave. Assholes stretched, but that would take some serious warmup.
Our purchases wrapped and packaged discreetly, we leave the store with giant grins on our faces. Bell was right, I did need a little cheering up. Grabbing some lunch next would just be the cherry on the icing, bringing me out of my mood completely.
“Shilly…” Bell stops a few steps ahead of me, sounding confused.
“Stop calling me that,” I grumble, as I dig around in my bag to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.
“Isn’t that Zale?”
My heart feels like it skips a beat. “What?”
Sure enough, Zale stands on the pavement across the street with another alpha, his hands tucked into the pockets of his grey sweatpants. Fuck, grey sweatpants should be illegal.
As I duck my head, planning to quickly speed walk to the car, Bell hisses. “Shit, he saw us. Do you think he knows where we’ve been?”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I fight the urge to duck behind some parked vehicles and crouch walk back to the car. “It’s the only store on this street, Bell.”
“Well, jocks are stupid, right? So maybe he won’t put two and two together.”
Glancing over at him as casually as I can, I startle when I realize his gaze is already latched onto me. Zale’s eyes widen as he recognizes us. While he emailed me his work, we haven’t actually spoken face to face since the library.
It’s almost comical as he clearly contemplates approaching us, but then the alpha besides him leans in and whispers something. Zale’s eyes dart to the sleet black sign that reads ‘Velvet Knot’ behind us and a shade of pink blooms on his cheeks. There’s no mistaking where we’ve been or what might be in our black bags.
“He’s just counted to four.” Swallowing, I lift my chin and link my arm through Bell’s. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”
I can feel his attention on me as we walk, and I hate the way my skin burns under his stare. He’s only showing interest because of Millie. It’s normal to be curious about your potential future brother-in-law. My fading bite throbs, and grit my teeth.
That’s all it is.
All it can be.
Zale Blackwood isn’t for me.
W ith my feet up above my head, I wonder which sadistic alpha invented stirrups. Although, I think I’d take a whole day of laying like this over the family dinner I have to attend later this evening. My parents were in town, coming back from a little stint in Brant?me, France where they were renovating another collection of properties. Well, overseeing the renovations anyway. I couldn’t imagine either my mother or my father getting their hands dirty as they used tools.
The speculum slides out of my body and with a wince, I exhale. Everything is exposed as Zion pokes and prods as he mutters under his breath about my current condition.
“I wish you’d listen to me, Shiloh,” he tuts as he nudges me to close my legs. “What you’re doing is dangerous.”
Zion’s parents were close friends with mine, and despite the fact he was almost eleven years older than me, he was someone I counted as a close friend. Not that it was difficult, since my close friend list consisted of Zion and Bell. Millie would have been on that list too once, but now there was this gulf between us.
“Spare the lecture.” Rolling my eyes, I slide off the bed and get dressed. “I know the risks.”
“Do you?” I hear the sound of plastic snapping as he tears off his gloves and tosses them in the bin with a clang. There’s some metal clattering as he puts the tools in a machine to be disinfected. “You're worried your heats are becoming more unstable. That means you can’t predict or plan when it will happen. What if you’re with an alpha when it does?”
Zion had been prescribing me suppressants since I was seventeen, and every time I came to his office, I had to hear the same lecture. I know it came from a good place, but this was my life.
“What if it makes you ill?” He continues, running a hand through his auburn hair before scratching at the scruff on his chin. Zion was handsome, there was no denying that, with broad shoulders and a kind smile (when he smiled) but he was a little judgy for my taste. “It might make you infertile. Shiloh, we don’t know what the long-term effects of the suppressants are.”
I knew all that. He’d explained it, over and over again as if I’d suddenly lost all my comprehension skills. As an alpha himself, he couldn’t understand why I was rejecting my nature.
Did I want children? Did I let myself dream of meeting my Fated Mate and growing fat and round with their baby? Of course, but that wasn’t a dream I could have. I was a defective omega. A pale imitation.
Wanting more than being a baby maker made me strange, my temperament made me even stranger, and when you added in my plain features—it was the triple whammy of broken omega. Who would choose me? Who could give me the life I wanted?
“I’m asking you to reconsider your approach.” His voice is pleading now as we sit at his desk. He’s holding the prescription pad, and I know he’s going to give me what I’m asking for. He always does.
“You’re not just my doctor, Zion. You’re my friend. But you need to trust me. I. Know. The. Risks.” And I did. They were always in the back of my mind, lingering like the boogeyman.
Finally relenting, he sighs and scrubs his face again. “Fine. I refuse to increase the dose. I’ll write your normal script. That’s the best I can do, Loh.”
The use of my nickname, the one usually reserved for Millie, my parents and Zion, has the corner of my mouth lifting into a smile.
“If you’re not going to share your heat with an alpha, you know the drill. Lots of fluid, try to eat, use toys to help ease some of the symptoms until the worst of it passes.”
“I know, I know.” If an omega chooses not to have an alpha partner for their heat, it could become unbearable.
When we’re in that heat haze, there’s no rational thought—just base desire. An innate instinct to breed, to be bred. The instinct grows, and swells until it becomes painful to fight it. Our bodies aren’t our own and our minds are lost to the need to take an Alpha knot and be filled with cum. There’s something in alpha pheromones and cum that helps soothe that need, and override the pain. It’s nature's way of ensuring we continue breeding.
Holding up three fingers in a mock salute, I tease him. “I promise I’ll avoid being alone with an alpha if I feel so much as a cold coming on.”
Zion tuts, clicking his pen aggressively before he fills in my script with his illegible scrawl. Did doctors receive lessons in medical school in chicken scratch? “I want it noted that you’re being reckless.”
“Noted.” I nod.
“And that I warned you.”
“Also noted.” I nod again.
“And that you’re a damn brat.”
“Always.” I blow him a kiss this time before pushing to my feet as he hands me the piece of paper.
“Here’s your pills, now, get out of my office.” He gently reaches out and grabs my wrist. Warm brown eyes look up at me. “But call me if you need me.”
“Yes, Zion,” I dutifully reply.
Now it was time to go home, shower, eat more ice cream and then prepare for what might possibly be the most awkward diner of my life. Wonder if I’ll have time to play with my new toy before 6pm?