Page 22 of Knot Gonna Lie (Syzygy Omegaverse #1)

Hours later, the weight of solitude with our clan’s new omega hadn’t been part of my morning’s design—yet here I stood.

Seth remained beside me like a silent sentinel as we helped shape the edges of her sanctuary, while the others flowed in and out through her chamber’s threshold like worker bees attending their queen.

With her nest now taking shape, it became clear how important every detail was to her. Not just soft. Not just functional. Hers.

I watched her move—fingertips brushing over fabric, adjusting the layering of pillows and blankets with quiet intent.

She wasn’t nesting aimlessly. She was building . Reclaiming space. Control. Comfort.

And I took note of it all. The missing pieces. The hesitations. The way she lingered on certain textures or shifted items that didn’t sit quite right. We hadn’t gone shopping yet, but this gave us the blueprint. Whatever she needed, we’d provide. She wouldn’t go without.

Maia and Stella directed the flow of containers with practiced precision, their voices weaving through the room as they debated layout and symmetry. Tobias and Sylas moved the heavier crates, their banter a steady rhythm beneath the sound of fabric rustling and belongings settling into place.

The only one missing was our alpha, still finalizing our departure to Planet Tera—a seasonal refuge of lush jungles and crystalline shores. A place worthy of beginning the next chapters of our clan’s life together.

Our omega should want for nothing. That was my responsibility—and if I’d miscalculated anything, I’d fix it. Immediately.

Inventory had always been my domain. But I never imagined I’d be here, helping shape a nest for an omega— our omega—while our clan moved around her like something sacred was unfolding.

Traditionally, betas didn’t get this close. Even being considered for a heat cycle was rare. Most alphas believed they could handle their ruts alone, unwilling to admit needing help—especially during something so intimate. For many, relying on another was seen as weakness.

Others simply didn’t trust anyone near their omega during such a vulnerable time. History had taught them why—enemy clans attacked when defenses were down.

Yet here I stood, beside Seth, surrounded by our clan—the only family I’d ever trust with her. All of us attempting to perfect this sanctuary into something magical.

“This shade of purple clashes with the emerald in my bedding,” Elara said with a small frown, standing before her nest like a painter studying an unfinished canvas.

Behind her, Maia unpacked bath products with practiced efficiency, while Stella sorted through scarves and soft fabrics, clearly in her element.

“Royal purple and lavender are in the next crate,” I said, tapping my tablet where I’d catalogued the latest additions. “Sky blue and turquoise came in with the container Tobias just dropped off.”

“They sound promising.” She picked up the offending violet pillow and tossed it gently toward Seth. “But this one’s not staying.”

“What do you need instead?” Seth asked, catching it one-handed, his expression warm yet uncertain.

From across the room, Sylas adjusted the ambient lighting controls, casting the space in golden warmth.

“Honestly? A magnificent cock buried deep within me.” Elara’s frown carved shadows across her features as her needy sweet aroma thickened the air like honey through water, making several clan members pause to draw appreciative breaths.

“But my body hasn’t surrendered to the fire of heat yet, and nothing will satisfy me until this sanctuary is perfect. ”

“Focus on the nesting first,” Stella called out, amusement threading her voice. “You’ll have plenty of time for that later.” She held up two scarves—one midnight blue, the other deep crimson. “Let us help make your nest perfect for you.”

Seth’s gaze found mine, mouth parted, eyes wide as twin moons. The raw honesty of her desires would take adjustment—but no one laughed. No one teased.

We all understood what omegas endured.

They were pulled from their lives the moment the first signs appeared, locked away in isolation with designated caretakers. Their choices stripped. Their freedom conditional. No one in our clan blamed them for what society had done—for how it had reshaped them.

At least betas had options. Omegas? They had to surrender to a clan, bind themselves to an alpha, just to reclaim a sliver of freedom that was never freely given.

And even then, safety wasn’t guaranteed.

Some alphas still rejected the laws. Still fought the enforcers.

I hadn’t heard whispers of any recent brawls, but that didn’t mean they’d stopped. Maybe the fights had just gone deeper underground—where the leaders could keep the rest of us blind to whatever darkness festered there.

“Elara, would you mind if we helped you dress soon?” Maia asked gently. “We’ll need to swing by your apartment to grab the last of your things before heading into The Center. If we time it right, the others can bring your belongings back to the vessel while we shop.”

“Of course,” Elara said, brushing a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to hold us up.”

“You’re not.” Stella smiled and set the scarves aside. “You’re getting your space exactly how you want it. That matters.”

She and Maia guided Elara toward the wardrobe, sifting through outfit options with the kind of easy camaraderie that only bloomed between women who genuinely enjoyed each other. Their soft laughter, the shared smiles, the quiet affirmations—it wasn’t forced. It wasn’t performative. It was real.

And it mattered.

In the beginning, I’d worried—rightfully so.

Bonded pairs could grow protective in ways that left little room for new additions.

But after spending time with Elara this morning, Maia and Stella had visibly relaxed.

They’d seen it for themselves: Elara wasn’t here to stir jealousy or compete.

Her focus had been singular—on her nest, her new space, her autonomy.

Not on Sylas and Tobias.

Now, they helped her with the gentle familiarity of clan-sisters.

I stepped back to give them space and glanced down at my tablet, fingers moving through the inventory interface with habitual ease. I noted what still needed sourcing, tagging the items she’d hesitated over—the subtle preferences she hadn’t voiced but couldn’t quite hide.

We’d provide her everything she needed. I’d see to it.

While they dressed her, I fired off a message to Luca with the updated plan. He was still finalizing the vessel’s departure window with port authorities. We’d rendezvous for dinner once everything was secured.

The plan was simple: stop by Elara’s apartment, gather the last of her belongings, then navigate The Center’s maze of merchant stalls for any nesting or personal items we hadn’t acquired.

The rest of the clan would return to the ship with her things, and we’d all share a meal together before departure.

A proper send-off. Grounding. Celebration.

The soft sounds of laughter continued behind me—not loud or boisterous, just warm. Comforting. I turned toward the viewport, needing a moment to breathe.

Outside, space stretched in endless silence.

Beyond the glass, the spaceport pulsed with quiet life.

Vessels slipped in and out of docking bays with fluid precision—sleek couriers, heavy freighters, long-haul cruisers bearing the scars of distant systems. Blue guidance lights blinked along the exterior rings, guiding ships like fireflies through the dark.

A refueling arm disengaged from a passing transport, steam venting in lazy spirals.

One ship hovered just outside clearance range, awaiting its turn.

Order beneath chaos. Even out there, life didn’t stop.

Barely had a day passed since Elara had joined our ranks. She’d only just received her claiming mark and hadn’t mentioned readiness to gather her pack.

Omegas traditionally began recruitment before heat’s arrival, or at minimum asked willing betas to help navigate heat’s intensity alongside their alpha. If a beta could satisfy the omega while respecting their alpha’s dominance, they’d earn invitation into the omega’s sacred pack.

My thoughts pulled unexpectedly toward Nova.

My sister.

She would’ve liked Elara. It stung to think I might never know if Nova had found an alpha who truly saw her.

I wasn’t allowed to contact her. No one was, once an omega was taken. Protocol—cut off the past, make them reliant on their caretakers. Prevent outside influence. Keep them tethered to their new life.

But sometimes, when I walked through The Center on business trips, I’d scan every crowd. Every scent. Hoping. Imagining I’d turn a corner and there she’d be—glowing with joy beside her caretaker. And maybe, if fate was kind, she’d choose to speak to me again.

She’d have to make that choice.

The privilege of visiting The Center came with silence—I wasn’t allowed to hunt for her. Our paths crossing had to happen naturally…which made me wonder if the Matron ensured her caretaker kept her away from me.

I exhaled and turned back toward the room.

Elara stood near the bed now, dressed in soft layers that complemented her nest’s palette. She looked…settled. Not completely, not yet. But the tension had eased from her posture, replaced by quiet contentment that made something settle deep in my chest.

“We ready?” Stella asked, slipping a psydagger into her thigh sheath with practiced ease.

Elara nodded, then looked to me. “Almost. One last thing.”

She stepped closer, close enough that her scent brushed against me—warm, steady, unmistakably hers.

“Thank you for helping me figure all of this out.”

Before I could reply, she rose onto her toes and pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t claiming. It was just true —genuine appreciation, gently given.

And it lit something deep inside me.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me,” she whispered, holding my gaze with a warm smile.

I stood still, spine straight, anchoring myself as slow warmth spread through my chest. That single moment—so simple—felt like the beginning of something. A soft thread beginning to weave between us.

“Anytime,” I murmured, voice low, barely trusting it to stay even.

As the others gathered by the door, waiting to escort her into the station, I stayed where I was—anchored by the ghost of her kiss and everything it might mean.

A ripple of silence stretched across the threshold. I glanced up to find the rest of the clan staring at me—mouths slightly agape, expressions frozen between shock and disbelief. A single kiss. A casual gesture, yes. But a first…and not to our alpha.

Just me.

Elara didn’t notice. Or maybe she did.

She turned without another word, head ducked slightly—not in shame, but with quiet composure—and stepped between Maia and Stella as if she belonged there, their shoulders brushing in silent solidarity.

No one said anything. No teasing. No pointed looks. Just a quiet shift in the room’s gravity as she passed, and the clan fell into step behind her, following their omega out of the nest room.

I remained behind for a moment longer, staring at the door after it closed, feeling the weight of that simple contact settle deep in my chest.

If she chose to build her pack one day…

Perhaps I would be part of it.