Page 7 of Knot Gonna Lie (Syzygy Omegaverse #1)

But as she spoke these words of hope, Quinn’s tablet chimed with an incoming message. She glanced at it, and her expression shifted like clouds gathering before a storm.

“What is it?” I asked, noting the way her fingers tightened around the device.

“There’s something you should see to prepare for tomorrow,” she said quietly, manipulating the screen until a live feed appeared. “Today’s final ceremony is beginning. Would you like to watch?”

The Den’s arena filled the display, and my breath caught as I witnessed a male omega walking among the assembled alphas with graceful confidence. His movements were deliberate, purposeful, as he approached each potential mate with careful consideration.

Unlike the frenzied selection stories I’d heard whispered in corridors, this omega took his time.

He spoke with each alpha, sampled their scents, studied their reactions to his presence.

Some alphas seemed surprised by his measured approach, clearly expecting the desperate claiming behavior that omega heat supposedly inspired.

But this omega was different. Controlled. Decisive.

When he finally made his choices—selecting three female alphas and two males—he did so with the certainty of someone who understood exactly what he wanted. The rejected alphas departed with dignity rather than the bitter disappointment I’d expected.

“He’s not in heat,” I whispered, the words tasting strange on my tongue. “But why would they let him enter?”

“You’re right, he’s not,” Quinn confirmed softly. “He’s been allowed to The Den four times over the past two years whenever there’s a last-minute opening, always refusing to get off the suppressants. He’s searching for something…”

Watching this omega’s ceremony sent tremors of doubt through my certainty.

Was I moving too quickly? Was my fixation on Mr. Coco merely the product of approaching heat, or something deeper?

As if summoned by my thoughts, heat bloomed beneath my skin—slow and consuming, like a fever taking hold. My breath hitched, shallow and fast, and suddenly my clothes felt too tight, too heavy against skin that burned from the inside out.

“Quinn,” I gasped, pressing my hands to my chest as panic fluttered like caged birds against my ribs. “What if you’re right about me not thinking clearly? What if this attraction to Mr. Coco is just biology manipulating my judgment?”

She moved to me swiftly, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead with practiced efficiency, her scent strengthened once more, wrapping around me like a thick blanket of morning dew and reassurance.

“Your temperature is elevated,” she murmured, concern etching lines around her worried gaze. “But you’re not in full heat yet. You still have choice, Elara. You still have agency.”

“What’s the story behind Coco Pharma?” I asked, trying to focus on something other than the pull he had on me. “Who is he beneath all of it—and why create a company like that?”

Quinn’s fingers moved with practiced speed across the tablet, files flashing by too fast for me to fully process. I leaned closer, scanning each page that blinked to life, trying to catch a name, a detail—anything that might matter. Every flick of her hand brought up more files, more possibilities.

My stomach tightened. Somewhere in that flood of information could be the answer I needed. Or the confirmation I was afraid of.

“Coco Pharma,” she began, her voice taking on the cadence of an educator sharing knowledge, “is one of the leading pharmaceutical companies in the galaxy. They specialize in omega comfort medications—advanced suppressants, heat regulation therapy, nesting comfort enhancers. Their research has revolutionized omega care, making heat cycles more manageable and giving omegas more control over their reproductive timing.”

She scrolled through more information, her expression growing impressed despite her earlier skepticism.

“They’ve also pioneered alpha stability medications, helping prevent the madness that comes from prolonged omega separation.

Their mission statement focuses on ‘bringing dignity and choice to all gender presentations.’ They employ more betas in leadership positions than any other major corporation, and they’ve funded the construction of three omega sanctuary stations currently being built beyond Syzygy. ”

“Wait—so he’s not just wealthy?” I murmured slowly, still trying to process the new information. “He’s part of an organization that actually helps people like me.”

“It appears so,” Quinn admitted, though caution still colored her tone. “But Elara, you must understand—companies can present beautiful facades while hiding darker truths. And more importantly, corporate ethics don’t guarantee personal character.”

I closed my eyes, trying to separate the threads of desire weaving through my consciousness.

The memory of Mr. Coco’s scent still lingered, but was it the scent I craved, or the safety he’d represented?

The protection he’d offered? The way he’d treated me like something precious rather than something to be claimed?

“Find him,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the fire building in my veins.

“Ask him to register for my roster. But Quinn…” I met her eyes, seeing my own uncertainty reflected in their depths.

“Make sure he understands that I want the choice to be genuine. Not just biology. Not just heat. If he agrees to stand in that arena tomorrow, I want it to be because he’s interested in me, not just any omega in need. ”

Quinn nodded, understanding passing between us. “And if your heat arrives before the ceremony?”

I looked toward my window, where space stretched infinite and dark, filled with possibilities I couldn’t yet imagine.

“Then I’ll face whatever comes with whatever clarity I can maintain,” I said softly. “But I won’t let fear of my own biology rob me of the chance to choose wisely.”