Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 100: Relief

There’s no way to fight them all, and nowhere to run. But the thought of going peacefully is anathema in my head.

"Stay away from me," I warn them, stepping back until I hit a building. At least no one can sneak up behind me this way. I’d rather see what’s coming at me.

"Nicole, please. We aren’t here to hurt you."

I scoff, but then something familiar hits me. Masculine, wild, achingly familiar. My head snaps to the side so fast my neck protests. Through the haze of settling concrete dust, a tall figure in black approaches with measured steps, each movement radiating power and authority.

My fingers tighten around Princess Paws, trembling at the sight of him.

Logan. The pheromones rolling off him are like a tidal wave cresting. My heart thunders against my ribs as he draws closer, his presence filling the narrow alley.

Princess Paws squirms in my grip, a low purr rumbling through her tiny body. Even she recognizes him, welcomes him.

"Nicole."

His voice is gentle, but I can only stare.

Is it real?

Is that really him?

It has to be him. You can’t just hallucinate this thick cloud of pheromones he’s secreting. It’s enough to dump over this entire alley.

Logan tugs his mask down, and my world blurs through a film of tears. My knees buckle, forcing me to lean against the wall for support. Each step he takes toward me feels like an eternity, yet I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t think.

Princess Paws squirms in my arms, her purrs growing louder as Logan approaches.

Eventually, he’s standing in front of me. Staring. Silent. Still.

"Hi." The word comes out of me as a broken whisper, followed by a laugh that borders on hysteria. The sound catches in my throat, half-sob and half-relief.

His arms wrap around me with careful precision then, as if I might shatter. Maybe I will. The solid wall of his chest against my cheek grounds me in reality, even as my mind spins with the impossibility of this moment.

"Are you okay?" His voice rumbles through his chest, and I feel the tension in his muscles, the rigid way he holds himself.

I press my arms against him, and the sight of purple lines threading beneath my skin makes my stomach clench. The physical reminder of what they did to me. What I’ve become. Does he see it too? The monster they tried to create?

"I finally found you." His words ghost across my hair, tense with emotion.

Logan scoops me into his arms, and I don’t fight it. My muscles feel like water, relief flooding through me as he cradles me against his chest. Princess Paws settles between us, her purrs a steady comfort.

"We’re taking you home."

Home. The word echoes in my mind, sweet and impossible. After this nightmare, home is a dream.

"Okay."

His lips brush my forehead, the tender touch a balm to my battered soul. With gentle care, he adjusts his hold on me, shifting until I’m cradled securely against his solid warmth.

My head rests on his shoulder, and I breathe him in, letting his scent envelop me. It’s a cocoon of safety amidst the chaos, a promise of protection.

Princess Paws snuggles between us, her soft fur tickling my skin. In this moment, held close by the man I thought I’d never see again, everything else fades away. At least for a moment.

Men in tactical gear fall into formation around us as Logan carries me through the debris-littered streets. Their boots crunch against broken glass and concrete, a steady rhythm that should set off warning bells in my head. Since when does Logan have an armed escort? Why are they here? What happened while I was gone?

The questions pile up like the rubble we pass, but exhaustion weighs down my tongue. The purple lines under my skin pulse with each step Logan takes. Whatever they pumped into me left me drained, hollow. I want to sleep for, like, a month.

Princess Paws kneads my chest, her tiny claws pricking through my shirt. The pain is grounding, real. Unlike the blue spirits that dance at the edge of my vision, weaving between the armed men’s feet.

Oh, shit. They’re back. When did they come back?

Their presence is welcome, and no one else seems to notice them. But I’d forgotten all about them during the collapse. I guess they wouldn’t get hurt from something like that, but guilt remains anyway.

We pass block after block of abandoned buildings. The silence feels wrong—no traffic, no pedestrians, just our footsteps and the occasional crackle of radio chatter.

A burst of static cuts through the quiet. "Base, this is Echo Three. We’ve got movement above street level. Something big."

My heart stutters. The blue spirits swirl faster, agitated.

"Copy Echo Three. Can you identify?"

"Negative. Too much cloud cover, but—wait—"

Then, "Shit. Alpha One, some are heading your way."

"Damn," Logan mutters.

Everyone becomes even more vigilant, if possible. Our pace slows.

The crack of gunfire splits the air. Logan drops into a crouch, shielding me with his body as bullets ping off concrete. Princess Paws yowls, claws digging deep.

"Contact front!" someone shouts.

More shots. The men around us return fire, muzzle flashes lighting up the growing darkness. Something swoops overhead, a shadow against the clouds.

"Cover me!" Logan barks. He pulls me tighter against him and breaks into a run.

The world blurs past in fragments: shattered windows reflecting gunfire, brass shell casings bouncing across pavement, blue spirits scattering like startled birds. My fingers clutch Logan’s shirt as another volley of shots rings out behind us.

"Echo Three is down! We need—" The radio cuts off in a burst of static and screaming.

Logan ducks into an alcove, pressing us against cold brick. Princess Paws trembles against my chest. Above us, wingbeats thunder like helicopter blades.

I know that sound. My blood runs cold as memories of facing a dragon—Xavier—on the mountain flash through my head.

More gunfire. More screams. The purple lines under my skin burn, responding to something in the air. To them.

They’ve found me.