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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

Freedom?

My feet pound against the last flight of stairs. Each step sends a burst of pain through my legs, but I can't slow down. Not with the building threatening to crush us both.

Princess Paws lets out another pitiful cry from her box. My arms ache from clutching her so tightly, but I won't risk dropping her again.

The exit sign glows like a beacon, and I burst through the stairwell door into what must be the main lobby. Tall windows stretch from floor to ceiling, revealing a gray morning beyond. Freedom lies just yards away.

A deep groan reverberates through the walls, like the death rattle of some massive beast.

"Almost there, baby." My voice is reedy with panic, even as I try to soothe my kitten.

I sprint toward the glass doors. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten.

The ceiling gives a horrendous crack. My stomach drops as I look up. Spiderwebs of fissures race across the concrete above, spreading faster than I can run.