webnovel

Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha

Nicole d'Armand never expected to walk into her apartment and find her fiancé *bleep*-deep in another woman's lady bits. What's a girl to do? Well, after obliterating an 18th-century Meissen vase, delivering a punch that would make a heavyweight boxer proud, and embarking on a night of raucous drinking, Nicole figures she might as well embrace the chaos. But when alcohol and pheromones collide, her wild night spins into something unexpected... Like a ride on the Logan Everett express. Which, naturally, leads to a whirlwind of its own: She's his fated mate. Because of course she is. And he rejects her. Because of course he does. Now embroiled in a mystery bigger than her post-breakup hangover, Nicole finds herself the prime suspect in a murder she didn't commit—no matter how tempting the thought might have been. And the only person who believes her innocence? The same guy who shot down the idea of being her fated mate. Great. Just what she needed: her love life is a crime scene, and the man stupid enough to let her go is holding her freedom in his hands. DECEMBER 2024 NOTE-- Author has a broken hand and updates are slower than normal. Deepest apologies. Trying to get updates more normalized again!! -- This is a fated/rejected mates urban fantasy romance. Content warning for: Nudity, more nudity, swear words, inappropriate humor, dead people, undead people, incomprehensible amounts of magic, werewolves and all the fetishes that come with them, did I mention the nudity?, and a questionable level of sanity at times.

Lenaleia · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
130 Chs

At Work Again

By morning, we've talked a lot—kind of.

Among other things.

But Logan's fully up to date on the not-a-shifter's visit, and while he hasn't said much about it, he doesn't seem thrilled.

There's other information to be had, too. Like those accounts disappearing from our database. Even when I approached IT, they couldn't find any evidence they existed. Ever. Not even a whisper of deletion, no matter how far they dug.

Like those accounts and the printouts were a figment of my imagination.

It wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't go to those houses in person myself. There were places where wards should have been, and they weren't there. No trace at all.

Who would go through that much effort?

Faking files is one thing, but no one knew I would go to those homes on my own to investigate.

"Nicole?"

Mike's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I have to force my face to neutrality when I glance up. "Yes?"

"You doing okay?"