Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91: Reaction

My stomach lurches without warning. The room tilts sideways, though I haven’t moved an inch. Cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. I feel horrible.

"How long?" The words scratch past my raw throat. "Before it’s through my whole body?" ƒrēewebnovel.com

"Already is." Jim doesn’t bother opening his eyes, head still tipped back against his chair.

I stare at my arm where the purple lines only reach my shoulder. "That’s impossible. The marks haven’t spread past—"

"Those are just a different kind of progress." His tone carries the same bored indifference as always. "The serum’s already circulating. What you see is where it’s settling in."

The ceiling spins above me. I squeeze my eyes shut, but that only makes it worse. My insides feel like they’re rearranging themselves, shifting and churning in ways that human anatomy definitely shouldn’t move.

"I think I’m going to be sick."

"Bucket’s by the bed if you need it."

I turn my head, spotting the metal basin just within view. Not that I could reach it with my arms strapped down. The thought sends another wave of panic through me.

My voice cracks. "I can’t—the restraints—"

He sighs, but finally opens his eyes. "If you’re actually going to puke, I’ll help. But don’t try anything stupid."

The room continues its nauseating spin. Every heartbeat pounds against my skull like a hammer. The purple lines creep further down my arm, branching into delicate patterns that almost look beautiful—if I didn’t know what caused them.

"What’s it doing to me?"

"Above my pay grade." Jim shifts in his chair. "I just make sure you don’t die or escape."

"Comforting." The word comes out more as a groan. My stomach rolls again, and this time I know I’m not going to keep it down. "Jim—"

He moves faster than I expect, grabbing the bucket just in time. One restraint comes loose, letting me turn enough to avoid choking as everything comes up. Jim’s hand is surprisingly steady on my back.

When I finish, he wipes my mouth with a cloth that smells too sterile, too much like this whole place. The restraint goes back on, tight but not cruel.

"Rest," he says, settling back in his chair. "Fighting it only makes it worse."

Easy for him to say. He’s not the one with living rainbow poison flowing through his veins.

Several minutes pass before I have to call him again.

And again.

And... again.

Eventually, nothing comes up. It’s just me gagging and dry heaving.

"There’s nothing left," he observes. "You don’t need the bucket anymore."

How kind.

The fluorescent lights above pulse with rainbow halos. Each blink sends daggers through my skull, but I can’t look away from the mesmerizing display. Everything shimmers like an oil slick on water.

"The lights." My voice sounds distant, hollow. "Turn them off."

"Can’t do that." Jim’s silhouette wavers at the edge of my vision. "Dr. Moon needs to monitor the changes."

A whimper escapes my lips as another wave of sensation crashes over me. My skin feels too tight, like it’s shrinking around my bones. Every hair follicle burns. The sheet beneath me transforms into sandpaper, each thread a tiny razor against my hypersensitive flesh.

"Make it stop." The words scratch my throat. "Please."

"You know I can’t."

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