Page 70 of Knot Gonna Lie
“Someone has to.” He moved to the cooling unit and pulled out a few sealed containers—thick-lidded, double-labeled. I recognized the type: long-term sterile storage, the kind I’d special ordered for him months ago, normally used for medical use. “I’m preparing easy-to-assemble meals. Things any clan member can put together without burning down the ship. Sandwiches, wraps, items that just need heating.”
“You really have thought this through.”
“It’s practical.” Seth methodically rearranged the ingredients, placing each one back into the cooling unit in a tighter, more organized system—labels facing forward, grouped by use, like he couldn’t stand disorder even outside the medbay. “During her heat, she won’t want to leave her nest. Neither will her pack. The clan needs to support without intruding.” He pulled out his own tablet, swiping to a detailed list. “I’m also preparing hydration drinks—packed with electrolytes, proteins, nutrients. Everything an omega needs during heat, everything her pack needs to maintain stamina.”
The clinical way he discussed it didn’t hide the anticipation thrumming beneath his words. Our composed medic was looking forward to this. Planning it like a mission.
Even though none of us had expected to leave Syzygy Station with an omega.
“Drinks?” I moved closer, genuinely curious now.
“Modified from post-mission recovery formulas.” He pulled up the molecular breakdown on the vidscreen mounted to the kitchen cabinets. “Triple the caloric density, added compounds to help with... endurance. Easy to consume quickly between...” He cleared his throat. “Between other activities.”
“Very thorough.” I kept my tone neutral, though amusement tugged at the corners of my mouth. Seth approaching intimacy like a medical procedure was exactly what I’d expected.
What I hadn’t expected was how perfectly his obsessive planning would pay off. Supplies for a hypothetical omega or emergency situation, along with sterilization protocols and long-term storage—he’d prepared everything like he was filling a textbook case. And now? Now he was part of her pack. Turns out his contingency plans weren’t so hypothetical after all.
He set down his knife, wiping his hands on that ridiculous apron before pulling out a chair. “Actually, I need your help with something.”
I joined him at the prep counter, pulling my vidtablet back out. “Supply run?”
“For the villa on Tera.” He synchronized our tablets, sharing his medical inventory. “We don’t know how long we’ll be stationed there, and her heat could last anywhere from three to seven days. Possibly longer, given she’s been on suppressants, and by her medical records provided by Quinn, she hadn’t experienced a full heat in years.
“This one may be more extreme than normal due to their controlled hormonal suppression cycle. The longer the body’s natural rhythm is delayed, the more intense the rebound tends to be. Physical symptoms, emotional volatility, nesting impulses—it could all be amplified.”
“I’ve heard that heat off suppressants can be intense,” I agreed, already calculating quantities. “We’ll need three times the usual supplies.”
“At minimum.” Seth’s fingers flew across his screen. “Food, medical supplies, nesting materials—”
“Nesting materials?” I pulled up a new category in our requisition list.
“Soft fabrics, multiple textures.” He spoke with the confidence of someone who’d researched extensively. “Omegas need variety for nest-building. Silks, cottons, furs if we can source them. Nothing synthetic—they can smell the chemicals.”
I added it to the list, along with approximate quantities. “Bedding?”
“Lots of it. She’ll want to build, destroy, rebuild her nest multiple times as her heat progresses. It’s instinctive.” He paused, stylus hovering over his tablet. “Also, waterproof mattress covers. Several sets.”
The practicality of it made me snort. “Speaking from research or experience?”
“Research.” His flush deepened. “But thorough research.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if she was able to pick her own nesting supplies?”
Seth didn’t glance up from the vidscreen. “According to Xavier’s latest course correction and the current trajectory, we’ll hit orbit around Tera in a day and a half.”
He tapped the edge of the display, where a faint arc marked their projected descent. “If her heat holds off, we could take her down to the markets—real ones. The kind that make the sanctuary stations look like rations carts.”
That pulled my attention.
“There’s an entire complex built for omegas,” he continued. “Indoor and outdoor. Medical services, nesting supplies, scent boutiques, bonding gear, even private scent-safe lounges. It’s… thorough.”
I didn’t miss the flicker of something in his voice—hope. As if he just wanted her to see it—to experience it—after being locked away in a space station for twelve years.
“Would be good if she got to visit that before her heat hits,” I said quietly. “But if not—I’ll make sure we’ve got a shipment waiting. Extra linens. Comforts. Anything for her to feel safe in her nest during such a vulnerable time.”
Seth nodded, thoughtful. “We should match the decor to her preferences.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You know them?”
