Page 12 of Knot Gonna Lie
Only her location had changed, positioning herself with a clear view of my ship’s elegant lines.
“Greetings, Gamma Quinn.” I placed my hand over my station badge in formal acknowledgment. “Welcome aboard my clan’s vessel,Paradise. My crew has prepared refreshments while we discuss your visit.”
“Perfect, Mr. Coco.” She relaxed slightly, her sharp gaze cataloging the hangar’s equipment with professional thoroughness. “I have a favor to ask—and time is running short.”
“Urgent?” Every muscle in my body went taut. Had something happened to Elara since their departure? Why else would a gamma I barely knew seek private audience with me?
“Yes, but please—may I come inside to discuss this properly?”
She hadn’t begged, though gammas possessed too much pride for open supplication where alphas were concerned. Still, something in her expression suggested desperation carefully contained beneath diplomatic courtesy.
The hair along my neck prickled with premonition. Behind me, Jaxom’s beach-scent shifted, becoming heavy and charged—the atmospheric pressure before a hurricane. Whatever Quinn wanted, it would change everything.
“Of course.” I stepped aside, nearly colliding with Jaxom in my haste. “This way.”
He muttered a quick apology, and I glanced over my shoulder, trying to figure out what had gotten into him. It wasn’t like him to get jumpy around people—unless they weren’t clan. For whatever reason, anytime outsiders boarded our vessel, he went on high alert. I used to think it was just him taking inventory management too seriously—always convinced someone would poke around our cargo and pocket something. But really, it was the numbers. He panicked if anything didn’t add up, obsessing until he knew exactly what went missing and how.
Why did he care about my conversation with the gamma? We’d already delivered our goods—there was nothing left in the bay to steal, and I wasn’t about to leave her alone and unsupervised. It was late, I was tired, and after the day we’d had, all I wanted was sleep. We shipped out tomorrow evening, and if I had it my way, I’d hit The Center one last time before heading for Tera 9.
“Thank you. I promise not to take too much of your time. I understand you are a busy man.” Quinn ascended our ramp with the confidence of someone accustomed to boarding strange vessels. Her calculating gaze swept our empty cargo bay, one eyebrow rising in surprise. “I’ve never been inside a Class 13. They’re as elegant as their specifications promised.” She paused, head tilting toward Jaxom. “Are they as fast as people claim?”
“I’m not the pilot, but yes.” Jaxom nodded, nervous energy making him fidget. “I manage our inventory. If you want flight specifications, our pilot or engineer would be better sources.”
“Perhaps another time.” She dismissed the topic with a wave, already turning toward me. Her brown eyes studied my face with unsettling intensity, as if weighing me against some internal standard. Whatever test she conducted, she seemed satisfied. Aquick smile ghosted across her lips. “Let’s skip formalities and address why I’m here.”
“Go ahead.”
“First, I want to formally thank you for intervening earlier, whether your assistance was needed or not.” Her voice carried the cadence of someone accustomed to command. “I had the situation controlled, but omegas approaching heat tend to broadcast their needs rather…boldly. Especially when they’reunbound.” She drew out that final word deliberately, letting it resonate in the bay’s silence. The implication struck like a plasma bolt to the chest. “It seems you left an impression on my omega, so much so that she was distraught when she found out that you are registered but not signed up on any rosters.”
Jaxom’s head snapped toward me, questions blazing in his eyes.
Elara wantedme.
The knowledge hit with devastating clarity—this wasn’t about gratitude or protocol. Somehow, impossibly, I existed in the station’s system despite never completing registration. But that seemed secondary to the larger revelation crashing through my consciousness like a tidal wave.
“I thought—”
I raised my hand for silence. Jaxom’s mouth snapped shut, though his hurricane-scent flared with annoyance. I would deal with him later. For now, I needed to confirm that I’d heard correctly.
“Could you repeat that?”
“Which part?” Quinn’s gaze flicked between us, clearly puzzled by our exchange.
“All of it.”
“I thanked you for earlier intervention, despite having everything under control.” Quinn retrieved her tablet, fingers dancing across its surface before rotating the device toward me.“You left quite an impression on my omega. So much so that she was distraught learning you were registered but not on any rosters. Enough so that she begged me to come here to ask you to place yourself on hers for her maiden debut tomorrow.”
She was correct. There it was—proof of the impossible. A listing for ‘Coco-Coco Pharma’ among registered alphas, pre-approved for Den participation.
I clicked on the entry, and my suspicions crystallized into devastating truth. While I was Luca Coco, my older brother was Eli Coco. The profile clearly showed “E.” preceding our family name, complete with Eli’s birth information and photograph.
Fortunately, genetics had made us nearly identical—what old Earth terminology called ‘Irish twins.’ Our mother had birthed Eli during her first heat, then entered another cycle within a month, delivering me barely a year later.
Eli wasn’t here—I was.
If ever there was a time to break station law, this was it. Everything I’d thought about since she’d left the jewelry store—her intoxicating scent, the way she’d pressed against my back seeking comfort rather than her caretaker’s—had led to this moment.
“There’s been a mistake.” The words tasted like ashes on my tongue. “I’m not the Coco in your system.”
