Page 10 of Knot Gonna Lie (Syzygy Omegaverse #1)

I slammed my palm against the scanner. The storage bay doors whispered open, revealing Quinn standing at parade rest at the bottom of our ramp. She appeared exactly as we’d left her—uniform pristine, station badge gleaming, that peculiar air of gamma authority wrapped around her like armor.

Only her location had changed, positioning herself with a clear view of my ship’s elegant lines.

“Greetings, Gamma Quinn.” I placed my hand over my station badge in formal acknowledgment. “Welcome aboard my clan’s vessel, Paradise . My crew has prepared refreshments while we discuss your visit.”

“Perfect, Mr. Coco.” She relaxed slightly, her sharp gaze cataloging the hangar’s equipment with professional thoroughness. “I have a favor to ask—and time is running short.”

“Urgent?” Every muscle in my body went taut. Had something happened to Elara since their departure? Why else would a gamma I barely knew seek private audience with me?

“Yes, but please—may I come inside to discuss this properly?”

She hadn’t begged, though gammas possessed too much pride for open supplication where alphas were concerned. Still, something in her expression suggested desperation carefully contained beneath diplomatic courtesy.

The hair along my neck prickled with premonition. Behind me, Jaxom’s beach-scent shifted, becoming heavy and charged—the atmospheric pressure before a hurricane. Whatever Quinn wanted, it would change everything.

“Of course.” I stepped aside, nearly colliding with Jaxom in my haste. “This way.”

He muttered a quick apology, and I glanced over my shoulder, trying to figure out what had gotten into him.

It wasn’t like him to get jumpy around people—unless they weren’t clan.

For whatever reason, anytime outsiders boarded our vessel, he went on high alert.

I used to think it was just him taking inventory management too seriously—always convinced someone would poke around our cargo and pocket something.

But really, it was the numbers. He panicked if anything didn’t add up, obsessing until he knew exactly what went missing and how.

Why did he care about my conversation with the gamma?

We’d already delivered our goods—there was nothing left in the bay to steal, and I wasn’t about to leave her alone and unsupervised.

It was late, I was tired, and after the day we’d had, all I wanted was sleep.

We shipped out tomorrow evening, and if I had it my way, I’d hit The Center one last time before heading for Tera 9.

“Thank you. I promise not to take too much of your time. I understand you are a busy man.” Quinn ascended our ramp with the confidence of someone accustomed to boarding strange vessels.

Her calculating gaze swept our empty cargo bay, one eyebrow rising in surprise.

“I’ve never been inside a Class 13. They’re as elegant as their specifications promised.

” She paused, head tilting toward Jaxom. “Are they as fast as people claim?”

“I’m not the pilot, but yes.” Jaxom nodded, nervous energy making him fidget. “I manage our inventory. If you want flight specifications, our pilot or engineer would be better sources.”

“Perhaps another time.” She dismissed the topic with a wave, already turning toward me.

Her brown eyes studied my face with unsettling intensity, as if weighing me against some internal standard.

Whatever test she conducted, she seemed satisfied.

A quick smile ghosted across her lips. “Let’s skip formalities and address why I’m here. ”

“Go ahead.”

“First, I want to formally thank you for intervening earlier, whether your assistance was needed or not.” Her voice carried the cadence of someone accustomed to command.

“I had the situation controlled, but omegas approaching heat tend to broadcast their needs rather…boldly. Especially when they’re unbound .

” She drew out that final word deliberately, letting it resonate in the bay’s silence.

The implication struck like a plasma bolt to the chest. “It seems you left an impression on my omega, so much so that she was distraught when she found out that you are registered but not signed up on any rosters.”

Jaxom’s head snapped toward me, questions blazing in his eyes.

Elara wanted me .

The knowledge hit with devastating clarity—this wasn’t about gratitude or protocol. Somehow, impossibly, I existed in the station’s system despite never completing registration. But that seemed secondary to the larger revelation crashing through my consciousness like a tidal wave.

“I thought—”

I raised my hand for silence. Jaxom’s mouth snapped shut, though his hurricane-scent flared with annoyance. I would deal with him later. For now, I needed to confirm that I’d heard correctly.

“Could you repeat that?”

“Which part?” Quinn’s gaze flicked between us, clearly puzzled by our exchange.

“All of it.”

“I thanked you for earlier intervention, despite having everything under control.” Quinn retrieved her tablet, fingers dancing across its surface before rotating the device toward me.

“You left quite an impression on my omega. So much so that she was distraught learning you were registered but not on any rosters. Enough so that she begged me to come here to ask you to place yourself on hers for her maiden debut tomorrow.”

She was correct. There it was—proof of the impossible. A listing for ‘Coco-Coco Pharma’ among registered alphas, pre-approved for Den participation.

I clicked on the entry, and my suspicions crystallized into devastating truth. While I was Luca Coco, my older brother was Eli Coco. The profile clearly showed “E.” preceding our family name, complete with Eli’s birth information and photograph.

Fortunately, genetics had made us nearly identical—what old Earth terminology called ‘Irish twins.’ Our mother had birthed Eli during her first heat, then entered another cycle within a month, delivering me barely a year later.

Eli wasn’t here—I was.

If ever there was a time to break station law, this was it. Everything I’d thought about since she’d left the jewelry store—her intoxicating scent, the way she’d pressed against my back seeking comfort rather than her caretaker’s—had led to this moment.

“There’s been a mistake.” The words tasted like ashes on my tongue. “I’m not the Coco in your system.”

Quinn’s eyebrows drew together in sharp confusion. “What do you mean?”

“That registration belongs to my brother, Eli. I’m Luca—the delivery manager, not the product designer.” Each word felt like signing my own execution warrant. “I was never registered for anything.”

The tablet slipped from Quinn’s suddenly nervous fingers, clattering against the deck plating.

Her face cycled through a spectrum of emotions—shock, frustration, and finally, crushing defeat.

The gamma who had seemed so confident, so certain of her mission, crumpled before my eyes like a flower touched by killing frost.

“You’re telling me,” she said, voice hollow with disbelief, “that my omega has spent the entire night pining for someone who can’t even enter the Den? That I came here—risked my professional reputation—for an alpha who isn’t even registered?”

The devastation in her tone cut deeper than any psyblade. Behind her professional facade, I glimpsed the gamma who genuinely cared for her charge, who had witnessed Elara’s desperate hope and promised to deliver the impossible.

“How long would it take to register me properly?” The question escaped before desperation could strangle it. “Emergency protocols, expedited processing—I’ll pay triple the standard fees.”

Quinn’s laugh held no humor, only the bitter edge of shattered expectations.

“Weeks, Alpha Coco. The psychological evaluations alone require seven days of controlled testing. Medical clearances, background investigations, financial verification—even if I could push you to the front of every queue, we’re looking at minimum twenty-one days. ”

Twenty-one days. Elara would have entered and exited the Den multiple times by then, chosen another alpha, begun the bonding process that would bind her to someone else forever.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jaxom interrupted, concern creasing his features. “If he’s authorized on station, what prevents him from entering the Den?”

“They can’t permit alphas who become feral or unstable when separated from their clan and bombarded by omega pheromones,” Seth answered from behind us, his clinical precision cutting through the tension.

“During the old wars, such alphas would rampage through omega sanctuaries, claiming and killing indiscriminately. The examinations ensure candidates can maintain rational thought under extreme biological pressure.”

Bitter laughter escaped my throat, years of irony and professional dedication crystallizing into this single moment.

“Passing wouldn’t present any difficulty.

Coco Pharma has devoted extensive resources to developing products that help alphas and omegas manage their biological imperatives.

I’ve served as test subject for our stabilization compounds alongside my brother.

We have comprehensive data proving their efficacy. ”

“I don’t doubt your results, Alpha Coco,” Quinn said evenly. “It’s about protocol. These things take time—more than we’ve got—to make sure the omegas end up with a proper alpha, in a safe, stable life.”

“There has to be another way.” The words emerged as a growl, my alpha nature rejecting the finality of defeat. “Some exception, some loophole—”

“Unless you’re suggesting identity fraud,” Quinn interrupted, her gamma intuition cutting straight to the heart of my desperation. “Which would be a felony punishable by permanent exile from all omega sanctuaries.”

The suggestion hung between us like a blade suspended over my future. Around me, my crew had gone statue-still, the weight of possibility and consequence crushing the air from our lungs.

Identity fraud. Assuming my brother’s registered position.

Eli wasn’t here—I was.

If ever there was a time to break station law, this was it.

“Technically,” I said, voice growing stronger as possibility crystallized into plan, “we’re both from the same family lineage, possess nearly identical physical appearances due to our close birth timing, command equal respect within the same corporation, and share identical alpha designations.”

I pressed my palm against the seemingly solid metal beside me, feeling the hidden scanner read my genetic patterns like a book written in DNA.

Soft light swept across my face as biometric confirmation hummed through hidden circuits.

The wall responded with whispered mechanics, revealing a cavity that existed between necessity and possibility.

“I could assume his registered position.” I held the identification cards where everyone could see them. “Station records would show Eli Coco entering the Den as scheduled. No protocols violated. No examinations required.”

Heavy silence settled over the bay. Everyone was calculating consequences, weighing futures against risks.

Xavier shifted restlessly, chocolate-scent sharp with anxiety as he avoided my gaze.

Seth stood motionless, arms crossed, head bowed in concentration. His lips moved faintly, already running scenarios and worst-case outcomes.

But Jaxom spoke first, his voice carrying the loyalty of someone who’d traveled dangerous routes beside me for years. “The risk—”

“Is mine to take,” I interrupted, gripping Eli’s identification tighter. “If this fails, if I’m discovered, consequences fall on me alone. But if it succeeds…”

Elara’s emerald eyes flashed in my mind—searching mine with desperate hope. I could still feel the phantom press of her against my back, seeking comfort. The trust she’d given so easily, to a stranger who chose to protect instead of exploit.

“If this works, maybe I finally become the kind of male who deserves something I never dared to want—just by answering her call.” I held up the IDs, eyes skimming the crew until they landed on Quinn.

“But now that I’ve met an omega who somehow carved her way into my thoughts…

I can’t imagine being with anyone else. And I won’t stand by and let someone else claim her—not when she’s reaching for me . ”

Quinn met my gaze, her expression shifting from unreadable to something approaching respect.

Her mouth twitched at the corners, not quite a smile, but something close to it—and that was enough for me.

If Elara’s gamma came all this way and still signed off after learning the truth, I’d have to be a dimstar not to go for it—laws be damned.

“You understand,” she said softly, “that if you’re discovered after she’s chosen you, if the deception comes to light during your bonding ceremony, it could invalidate the entire selection.

I need to remind you that if this goes wrong, she’s headed straight back to the Den—and you’ll be barred from every omega sanctuary in the galaxy. ”

The weight of her words settled over me like gravity from a dying star.

But beneath that crushing pressure, deeper than caution or wisdom, burned the memory of Elara’s scent—lavender and vanilla swirled with desperate longing—and the way she’d whispered my name like a prayer.

To save her. To take her away from Syzygy Station.

“Then I’ll ensure the deception never comes to light,” I said, voice steady with conviction. “I’ll be the alpha she deserves, regardless of what name I use in that arena.”

“Very well.” Quinn extended her hand toward the identification cards, studying them closely. “But understand this, Alpha Coco—whatever name you carry into that arena, you’ll bear the weight of her happiness for the rest of your existence. Are you prepared for that responsibility?”

“It would be my honor. Now, how do I register?”