Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Conduit

My heart trips before picking itself back up again.

Pinned between my innocent little car and the unforgiving mountain face is... a black panther. Or at least, something that looks like one. Its sleek obsidian fur absorbs the light, creating a void in the shape of a massive feline.

The metal of my car has bent around its form, cradling the creature in a macabre embrace. Blood, nearly black in the harsh light, mats its fur and trickles onto the asphalt.

A long tongue lies limp out the side of its mouth, its eyes closed.

I take an involuntary step back, my mind reeling. Panthers aren’t native to these mountains. Hell, they’re not native to this continent. They’re also—I think—not as large as a freaking cow. And even if they were, no normal big cat could survive an impact like this. (Can they?)

Which means...

"Shifter," I breathe, the realization hitting me like another blow.

The panther’s chest rises and falls in shallow, labored breaths. It’s alive. Barely.

I inch closer while dialing the emergency line.

But, of course, there’s no signal on this particular curve of the mountain.

"Hey there, big guy," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady and soothing. "Or girl. I’m not really up on my panther gender identification."

No response. Not even a twitch of an ear.

I crouch down, bringing myself to eye level with the creature. Its eyes are still closed, face slack. Has to be unconscious, right?

"I’m going to try to help you, okay?" I say, more for my own benefit than the panther’s. "Just... please don’t eat me. I’ve had a really shitty week, and becoming cat food would just be the cherry on top of this clusterfuck sundae."

Steeling myself, I reach out a hand. My fingers hover inches from the panther’s fur, trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter, and gently lay my palm against its flank.

The instant my skin makes contact, a jolt of electricity courses through me. It’s not painful, exactly, but intense—like touching a live wire, if that wire was connected directly to my nervous system.

Images flash through my mind, too fast to process. A moonlit forest. The rush of wind through fur. The thrill of the hunt. Emotions that aren’t my own flood my senses—pain, fear, confusion, and underneath it all, a desperate, primal need.

I snatch my hand back with a gasp, stumbling away from the car. My heart races, and I struggle to catch my breath.

"What the actual fuck was that?"

The panther’s eyes snap open.

It—no, he—tries to move, a low growl of pain rumbling from his chest. The metal of my car creaks in protest, but doesn’t give.

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