Page 30 of Knot Gonna Lie (Syzygy Omegaverse #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

SETH

My hands remained steady as I finished cleaning Elara’s wound, though her proximity—her scent still sharp with adrenaline and territorial claim—made my pulse race like a runaway reactor.

The cut was clean but deep, requiring careful attention to prevent scarring that might remind her of this violence for years to come.

“This will sting,” I warned, watching her closely as I applied the antiseptic.

She didn’t flinch, emerald eyes locked on my face with unnerving intensity that made me feel exposed. “Nova rattled me.”

“Understandably.” I kept my voice professionally calm though everything in me wanted to soothe her distress, to wrap her in healing and comfort until the territorial anxiety faded from her scent.

“Another omega in your space, especially so soon after claiming—most would have reacted far more violently.”

“I wanted to.” The admission came quiet, almost ashamed, like confessing a crime, not defending her territory. “I wanted to tear her away from what’s mine. Is that wrong? She’s Jaxom’s sister—”

“She’s still another omega in your newly established territory.

” I began carefully closing the wound with synthetic skin, each layer building protection over vulnerable flesh.

“Your instincts are protective, not wrong. You’re still learning to trust us, to believe in your place here.

Her presence felt like a threat to that newfound security. ”

Luca cleared his throat from across the medical bay, drawing my attention. “Seth, we need to speak with Nova, hoping to convince her that Jaxom is fine, so they can leave. Can you finish here?”

“Take your time,” I said with a nod, watching him and Jaxom head for the door. “I’ll finish treating her, then I’ll pack up and get us ready for takeoff.”

The door whispered shut, leaving us alone in the sterile quiet of the medical bay. Elara’s scent seemed to intensify in the smaller space, wrapping around me, impossible to ignore.

“But she’s not interested in any of you,” Elara muttered, confusion threading through her voice. “I could smell it—her connection to her gamma. Their scents were all over each other, unlike most. She barely looked at Luca, her focus on her brother, Jaxom…So why did I react so strongly?”

“Because trust isn’t built in a few days.

” I finished sealing the synthetic skin, hoping it would hold.

My thumb brushed over her wrist—just to check the repair, I told myself, though the contact sent electricity racing up my arm.

“Because you’ve been isolated for twelve years, told your worth was tied to biological function.

Now you’re trying to believe you matter beyond that, and any challenge feels devastating. ”

Her eyes widened, pupils dilating slightly as she processed my words. “How do you—”

“Medical training included psychology.” I kept my focus on her hand, not trusting myself to look up just yet.

That wasn’t the whole truth, but I wasn’t divulging any further.

I felt the shift in her posture, the way her fingers tensed slightly in mine.

“And because I see you. Not just the omega, not just Luca’s mate.

You. Elara. Who wants to contribute, to matter, to be chosen for more than scent compatibility. ”

“Seth…” My name broke on her lips like a prayer.

She paused then, her uninjured hand lifting to hover near my face before settling gently on my cheek. The touch was featherlight but burned like starfire against my skin.

“What about you?” she asked, voice soft as morning mist.

The question hit me like decompression, stealing breath from my lungs. “What?”

“You’re hurt too.” Her fingers traced the air near the bruise blooming along my jaw where Keanu’s fist had connected.

“I can see it in how you move, how you breathe. But you put everyone else first.” Her emerald gaze searched mine with devastating accuracy.

“I can tell you’re used to caring for others, but what about being cared for? ”

The vulnerability in her voice, the genuine concern, left me speechless. No one had ever asked—not in all my years of training, not through countless emergency calls, not even among the clan where my role was healer first, person second.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, the lie as familiar as breathing. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“No.” Her hand pressed more firmly against my cheek, thumb brushing over the tender skin with exquisite gentleness. “You’re not. And you shouldn’t have to pretend you are.

“Is my hand okay?” she asked, flexing her fingers experimentally, studying her synthetic skin covered wound.

I nodded, watching the synthetic skin flex smoothly with her movements. “The medspray should keep any pain minimal. You’ll barely feel it by tomorrow.”

She tested the movement again, flinching slightly as the sting faded under the numbing agent. Then, without a word, she shifted our positions—guiding me to sit where she’d been on the exam table.

“Elara, what are you—”

“Let me see.” Her hands moved to my shirt, fingers working the fastenings with surprising confidence. “I need to see what they did to you.”

I caught her wrists gently, medical instinct warring with something deeper. “I can handle my own assessment—”

She silenced me with a kiss, soft and unexpected, lips pressing against mine with tender insistence. The contact lasted only heartbeats, but it left us both breathless, staring at each other in stunned silence.

“Tell me what I need to do,” she whispered against my lips.

My hands trembled as I reached for the medscanner, showing her the controls with fingers that felt clumsy and foreign. “Here. This will show internal damage, if any.” My voice came out rougher than intended. “But Elara, we have guests aboard—”

“Don’t.” Her fingers pressed against my lips, silencing my protests. “I trust our alpha to deal with our guests. Just let me care for you the way you’ve cared for me—for our clan.”

She took the scanner with a quiet nod, then returned to my shirt, fingers working with calm focus as she peeled the fabric away to reveal skin beneath. Each brush of her touch sparked along my nerves, setting myself on fire.

“I need to see,” she murmured, more to herself than me. “Need to know you’re all right.”

The shirt fell away, and I sat there—exposed. Not just skin, but everything underneath. She took in every bruise, every scrape, her fingers brushing over them like she could erase the damage by touch alone.

I forced my hands to remain at my sides, fighting every instinct that screamed to touch her in return. This wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place. She was thanking me, caring for me out of gratitude and heightened emotions. I couldn’t take advantage—

“Shh…You’re thinking too much,” she breathed, shaking her head. Her hands moved across my chest, slow and searching, stopping whatever I’d been about to say. “So kind. You make me feel…” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “Safe.”

“Elara—”

She pressed closer, the heat of her body singing through the thin fabric of her dress. “You make me feel…cherished. Like I matter beyond what my biology demands.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Let me return that gift.”

My resolve cracked from her confession. I caught her face in my hands, drawing her down until our foreheads touched, breathing the same air. “We shouldn’t—”

She kissed me again, deeper this time, effectively silencing my protests. The medscanner clattered forgotten to the floor as her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer with desperate need.

This kiss was different—not the gentle exploration from before, but something hungry and demanding. Her tongue traced my lower lip before delving deeper, and I opened for her with a groan that came from my very soul.

She tasted like lavender, vanilla, and something undeniably her—enough to make my head spin. My hands traced the line of her spine, memorizing every inch.

Heat rose between us—not just from instinct, but from something real. Gratitude twisted into want, connection turning into something harder to resist.

“Seth,” she breathed against my mouth, my name a benediction and a plea. Her hands roamed my chest, fingers tracing the edge of a particularly dark bruise with featherlight touches that made me shudder.

I tried one last time to be the voice of reason. “Your emotions are heightened. You’re not thinking clearly—”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her own blazing with determination. “You’ve spent your life healing others, caring for others. When was the last time someone cared for you?”

The question shattered the last of my resistance. My hands rose of their own accord, cupping her face with trembling fingers. “Elara…”

She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed. “You are everything I want in a clan member…Everything I want as my first pack member.”

My heart skipped, brain scrambling to catch up. “What are you saying?”

She gazed at me, eyes locking onto mine, desperate need pulsing between us—not just heat, not just instinct. It was want. Choice.

“Would you be mine?”

My breath caught. For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The words hit harder than any blow I’d taken in that restaurant, knocking the air out of me in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Elara…” Her name left my lips like a prayer, like a warning, like a plea.

This wasn’t just attraction. This was trust. Real and raw and terrifying.

I cupped her cheek, gently, like one wrong move might break the moment.

“Are you sure?” My voice barely made it past the lump in my throat. “You don’t have to—”

She cut me off with a look. Steady. Certain.

The same determined look she held at dinner.

How could an omega carry herself so…fiercely?

“I want you,” she growled. “Why do you deny me?”

I swallowed hard, thumb brushing her cheek, trying to memorize this moment forever.

“Because I’m honored—stars, Elara, you have no idea what this means to me.” I looked away for half a second, ashamed of the truth clawing its way out. “But I don’t—”

Her fingers fisted in my hair, yanking me forward until our foreheads nearly touched. Her scent flared with frustration and something fiercer—determination.

“Stop,” she bit out, eyes blazing. “You don’t get to decide you’re unworthy. Not of me. Not of this. You either accept me…or you don’t. But stop acting like you don’t belong in my pack.”

The force of her voice, the fire in her gaze—it shattered whatever was left of my doubt.

Nodding, I slowly let out a breath. “Yes,” I said, rough and certain. “I’m yours.”

The moment the words left me, something settled. Tension gone. Doubt gone. Like I was finally fitting where I was meant to be.

“Star blazes you are,” she hissed, climbing onto my lap. “I want you in my nest.”

When she kissed me again, I was lost. My hands fisted in her hair, pulling her closer as days of hidden desire exploded between us. She responded with equal fervor, her body pressing against mine with intoxicating heat.

The kiss turned fierce, desperate, all gentleness abandoned as we poured our need into each other. Her nails scraped lightly down my chest, and I bit back a groan of pure want.

“Elara,” I gasped against her lips, “we should stop—”

“No,” she whispered, fierce and breathless, clutching my shoulders. “Don’t think about that unmated omega. You’re mine. Not hers.”

Her hands were everywhere—tracing my shoulders, mapping my ribs, burning paths across skin that had never felt so alive. Each touch was a brand, marking me as surely as any claiming bite.

One that I would gladly take from her.

I was drowning in her, losing myself in the taste of lavender and vanilla, in the soft sounds she made when I traced the curve of her spine.

This desperate need—

“Nova wants to speak with you now so we can disembark.”

Xavier’s voice cut through our intimate bubble like a plasma blade through silk. We sprang apart, both breathing hard, skin flushed with sudden desire and embarrassment.

“I—we—” Elara stammered, hand flying to her swollen lips as she hastily climbed off my lap.

“She’s getting impatient,” Xavier continued, though his knowing smirk suggested he’d noticed exactly what he’d interrupted. “And Luca wants us space-bound within the hour.”

I cleared my throat, reaching for my discarded shirt. “Of course. Duty calls.”

But as Elara moved toward the door, she paused, looking back with an expression that held promises and unfinished business.

“This isn’t finished,” she said quietly, for my ears alone.

“No,” I agreed, voice rough with want. “It’s not, but your claim on my heart still remains.”

Then she was gone, leaving me alone with the taste of her on my lips and the absolute certainty that everything between us had just changed irrevocably.