Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 163

Chapter 163: Game’s Changed

"Bucking the Chancellor’s orders seems like a great way to get me sci-fied into some strange Catalystic experiment and kickstart a worldwide apocalypse." I eye Logan warily. "No offense to your ’fuck everything’ attitude, but I’ve seen enough movies to know what happens when the special girl skips magic school."

He stares at me for an uncomfortably long minute, his expression somewhere between confused and amused. His head tilts slightly.

"Strange. The glamour shouldn’t be affecting your brain."

I smack his shoulder, hard. "Asshole."

He chuckles.

But the light moment doesn’t last. His arms tighten around me as his expression sobers.

"I’ll explain it to the Conclave. If you’re arrested, it’s the Conclave who loses out—you’ll be vulnerable to..."

A pause. Just the smallest hesitation.

"...dragons."

I narrow my eyes, turning to look at him over my shoulder. His pause wasn’t nothing. The little hiccup in his sentence wasn’t a slip of the tongue. In the grand scheme of things, we haven’t known each other long...

But I know enough about Logan Everett to recognize when he’s deliberately redirecting.

"Dragons," I repeat flatly. "Just dragons? Because that tiny pause makes it sound like there’s something else I should be worried about. Something you’re not telling me."

Even as his expression shutters, his fingers trail absently along my arm like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

"Since the videos are faked, it’s likely this girlfriend of Scott’s is working with someone who has a vested interest in having you in custody."

I slide off his lap, needing the physical distance to think clearly. His arms release me with obvious reluctance.

"Okay, so Scott’s revenge-obsessed girlfriend is possibly in cahoots with... who, exactly? You know, don’t you?"

Logan stands, reaching for his discarded shirt, and doesn’t even bother to hide the deflection. "We should get moving. I don’t trust this location anymore."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s not relevant right now."

"Bullshit." The word comes out sharp as hell, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm the spike of anxiety twinging in my chest.

Breathe deep.

Everything’s fine.

Don’t lose your shit.

Losing your shit makes bad things happen.

"It’s very clearly relevant."

He pauses while pulling his shirt over his head, the fabric halfway down his torso. For a second, I’m distracted by the glimpse of defined muscle, but I force my focus back to the issue.

"Nicole." He says my name like it’s a complete argument. "Trust me."

"I do trust you, but trust goes both ways—son of a bitch. Is this another contract thing?"

He gives me a lopsided grin.

"Charming me with smiles isn’t going to get you out of this, Logan."

"Well, why ask questions you know the answer to?"

I groan and bury my face in my hands. These damn magical contracts are going to be the death of me. Or Logan.

One of us is going down in a blaze of glory and righteous indignation.

Logan gently pulls my arms down, pressing a kiss against the top of my head. "Come on. We need to get out of here."

My thoughts whirl like a tornado, frustration bubbling through the cracks of my composure. "Why did you even bring me here? You should have brought me to the new place in the first place."

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify