Page 10 of Knot Gonna Lie
Every alpha knew the countdown ticking in their bones. Too long without an omega’s stabilizing presence, and madness crept in like rust through hull breaches. Some alphas surrounded themselves with massive clans, claimed packs of betas to stave off the inevitable. But that path led nowhere—no omega would accept a bloated household, and the desperation only made things worse.
“I’ve avoided registering for The Den because I wanted our clan established first. Stable. Strong enough to support not just ourselves, but an omega and whatever pack she might choose.” I spread my hands in surrender. “If everyone agrees, I’d rather try my luck in The Den between trade runs before we decide how to spend our credits. Better to provide everything for our future omega than splurge now and regret it later.”
“How is it fair for some unknown omega to control what we’ve earned?” Jaxom spat, waving his hand toward our exit ramp. “They didn’t work hard to earn what we have. All they do is sit here in this station with all their needs provided for them, without having to lift a hand to work. I heard they seek jobs as hobbies! And here we are, having to work hard to be in the position that we are in, and they’re handed to them on silver platters.”
“Keep going.” I wanted to hear this—needed to understand what festered beneath my crew’s professional facade. “Voice your thoughts and concerns because we both know that they can’t change themselves or the position they are in, as we can’t either. Our government has placed them behind many failsafe walls, preventing them from ever stepping off the station unless they are claimed. How is an omega supposed to earn their keep when our very nature gravitates to them? A clan without an omega will never be as unified as one with one.”
“My sister’s an omega.” The words dropped like stones into still water. “Before her scent turned sweet, she dreamedof creating matching software for tablets—helping betas find alphas looking to expand their clans. Instead, she’s locked away until some alpha deems her worthy.” His laugh held no humor. “We don’t need elaborate stations managing our love lives. Most betas sell everything, chase alphas across the galaxy, and end up stranded when it doesn’t work out. When starry dreams shatter under the truth of reality…”
“What happens if another war breaks loose before your sister enters The Den?” Sylas asked, wrapping an arm around Stella’s waist. “It’s no secret tensions have been building. The growing power of wealthy alphas is making the government nervous, and the public’s growing tired with the deepening divide.”
“Then I’ll beg our alpha for extended leave and extract her myself.” Jaxom’s knuckles went white around his glass. “I won’t let her become a victim like the omegas of our past.”
“She’d be welcome here,” I said automatically, then caught myself. “Though having an unclaimed omega aboard would create…tensions. But we’re equipped to handle them.”
“What if your omega doesn’t accept all of us?” Maia asked, flicking her gaze to the others. “An omega doesn’t need to claim everyone here for their pack, especially if our scents don’t grab them. Are you going to kick out the members from the clan if they don’t invite them to their nest?”
“No one will be removed from this clan,” I comforted as I let out a light purr. Even though my crew was filled with betas, they still felt the calming effects of my alpha purr as I sent my scent into the air. My clan needed a leader and to have their doubts squished.
“Could we get all of that protection in writing?” Stella sheathed her dagger with deliberate precision. “I’ve seen how that omega at the store captured your attention. How do we know you won’t abandon everything—sell the ship, take the money, disappear with whatever omega eventually claims you?”
“Stella…” Sylas reached for her hand, his weathered face creasing with concern. “We both know that Luca isn’t like that. The crew has been together for almost eight years. So why would he break us up now?”
“We both know what happens when omegas get greedy.” Her voice cracked despite her defiant posture. “I won’t go through that again. Not after we’ve finally found stability.”
“I’m not your former alpha.” The words came out sharper than intended—but she needed to believe me and my truth. “Don’t judge me by his failures.”
“Then prove it.”
The challenge hung in the air between us. Around the table, my clan—my family—watched with varying degrees of hope and skepticism. These people had trusted me with their lives, their futures. They deserved better than empty promises.
“We’re more than a business—we’re a family. Anyone who chooses me will need to understand that before earning my bite.” I looked each of them in the eye. “I won’t sacrifice this clan for any omega, no matter how badly I might want her.”
I let the silence settle before continuing.
“When I’m chosen by an omega, she’ll meet every member of this clan before I claim her. And she’ll decide for herself who’s welcome in her nest—during her heat and beyond. But let me be clear: the unchosen stay unless they choose to leave. No omega will come in and fire people or kick them out to remake this crew into a personal pack. We’re already running light for a ship this size. We need every one of you.”
“We believe you.” Sylas nodded as he squeezed Stella’s hand. “Our concerns are valid. Being kicked out of another clan would make it hard to join another at our ages, especially when most are already established unless they are fresh out of the academy.”
“I wasn’t saying they weren’t,” I countered gently, trying to keep the harshness from my tone. I knew the topic was a sensitive one, and I cursed myself for not delving into it sooner. “But I am not going to allow a good thing to become ruined—nor am I going to force any of you to stay when the time comes. Just know all of you are valued, and as hard as it may be to lose a member, my door is always open for you to leave—”
A soft chime echoed through the mess hall. The ceiling lights shifted to blue as Xavier moved to the wall-mounted vidscreen. The Syzygy Station logo materialized, rotating slowly.
“Who’s calling?” I stepped behind Xavier, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve already paid our sponsor tax and the three-day docking fees.”
“Could be enforcers,” Seth suggested. “They might want to question you about the Owen incident.”
Xavier’s hand hovered over the connect button. “Should I answer?”
His hesitation surprised me. Usually Xavier shot first and asked questions later—a trait that made him an excellent pilot if occasionally frustrating crew member.
“We’re guests here. Unless we want to be banned from future business, we comply with their requests.”
“Let them try,” Stella growled. “But if they do, they won’t get another shipment of our product on their precious station.”
Pursing his lips, he nodded and turned the screen as he pressed the console.
Instantly, the station’s logo dissolved, replaced by a familiar face. Purple-tipped brown hair framed sharp features and calculating brown eyes, the standard caretaker uniform of the station crisp against her composed demeanor.
