Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 12: Rejection

His words slice through the fog, sharp and clear. I blink, struggling to focus on his face. He looks... Resigned, maybe? The golden flecks in his eyes swirl faster now, a maelstrom of amber and emerald.

And suddenly, it clicks.

A hollow laugh bubbles up from my chest, tasting of bile and disbelief. It hurts to laugh, but I can’t stop. The absurdity of it all is just too much.

Fated mates. It’s real. And this asshole just rejected me based on what? Gossip? Or maybe Scott’s words, not mine, and his own misguided sense of morality?

It must be Scott. The way he changed after leaving that office... The way he looked at me.

That asshole must have said something. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

I hope Logan doesn’t approach his job with this level of shit investigative work.

The pain in my chest intensifies, a physical manifestation of the bond he’s trying to sever. But beneath it, there’s rage.

White-hot rage that burns through the pain, lending me the strength to haul myself to my feet. My legs shake, threatening to give out, but I lock my knees and force myself to stand tall. I meet his gaze, refusing to back down.

"You want to know if I accept?" My voice comes out raw, ragged. "Let me tell you what I accept, Logan Everett."

I take a step forward, ignoring the way my body screams in protest. "Yes, I accept your rejection."

The pain that hits this time is worse than before, and I can tell it rocks him, too. His lips go white around the edges, his jaw tense and his eyes reddening from the pain. But unlike me, he was prepared for it.

Must be nice to not be sucker-punched.

"I accept that you’re an arrogant, self-righteous prick who can’t be bothered to get his facts straight before passing judgment."

His eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face. Good. Let him be surprised.

"I accept that you’d rather believe office gossip than ask me directly about my relationship status." Another step. The pain recedes slightly, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. "I accept that you think so little of me you assumed I’d cheat on my fiancé without a second thought."

Logan opens his mouth, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "No. You’ve had your say. Now it’s my turn."

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "You want to know the truth, Logan? Scott and I are over. We were over the moment I walked in on him fucking another woman in our bed. So no, I didn’t cheat on anyone. But you didn’t bother to ask, did you?"

The golden flecks in his eyes dim, replaced by a dawning horror. But I’m not done. Not by a long shot.

"You came here, to my home, to jaw-jack about your fucking sense of morality. Like I don’t have one. You rejected our bond based on the words of other people. Not me. Not the one person you should talk to."

I laugh again, bitter and cold. Even the horror on his face isn’t enough to soothe the maelstrom inside my heart. "Well, guess what? I reject you right back."

The words leave my mouth, and something snaps inside me. A tether I didn’t even know existed, severed in an instant. The pain in my chest flares one last time, then vanishes, leaving behind a hollow ache.

Logan staggers back as if I’ve physically struck him. His face contorts in agony, a mirror of what I just experienced. Part of me wants to feel satisfied over his pain, but I’m too drained for petty revenge.

"Nicole," he gasps, reaching out. "I didn’t—"

"Save it." I hold up a hand, cutting him off. "I don’t want to hear your excuses or your apologies. You made your choice, and now I’ve made mine."

I step back, my hand on the door. "Goodbye, Logan. I hope your moral code keeps you warm at night."

With that, I slam the door in his face, cutting off whatever he was about to say. My legs give out, and I slide down the door, my back pressed against the cool wood.

Penelope appears at my side in an instant, her face a mask of concern. "Nikki? What the hell just happened?"

I look up at her, feeling suddenly, overwhelmingly tired. "Apparently, I just rejected my fated mate."

Her eyes widen, and she drops to her knees beside me. "Holy shit. Are you okay?"

Am I okay? I don’t even know how to answer that question.

Logan bangs on the door, shouting my name. Begging me to open the door. Yeah, I’m sure he feels fucking sorry now that the truth is out there.

My chest aches, my head is pounding, and I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.

"I will be," I say, surprised to find that I actually believe it. "Eventually. But I’ve learned that one-night stands aren’t worth it."

Penelope wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Want me to go out there and kick his ass? Because I totally will."

That startles a genuine laugh out of me. "Thanks, Pippa, but I think I handled it."

She snorts. "Yeah, you did. I heard most of it. Gotta say, I’m impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you to be that savage."

Logan’s still knocking on the door, pleading with me to open it.

No fucking way.

"Me, neither." I squint at the ward stone that’s supposed to keep werewolves at bay, realizing something. "Hold on. I don’t think this is activated."

I grab the ward stone, turning it over in my hands. "Fuck me sideways."

"What’s wrong?" Penelope leans in, brows furrowed.

"I work with a bunch of class A idiots." The words come out as a growl. How could they be so careless?

Penelope squints at the stone. "I don’t see anything."

"Exactly." I sigh, frustration bubbling up inside me. "This stupid ward stone isn’t even charged. The rune should be lit up, but it’s dark as pitch."

"Is that bad?"

"It’s a rookie mistake." I mutter, reaching for the drawer beneath the entryway stand. My fingers close around a small crystal stick, cool and familiar. "This is basic stuff. We’re supposed to be professionals."

I press the crystal against the glyph on the bottom of the stone. A soft purple glow emanates from it, pulsing gently.

Penelope leans in, her eyes wide with fascination. "Whoa. Pretty. Of course you’d just have a recharging crystal lying around."

"Occupational hazard." I shrug, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Sometimes I forget how cool this mundane stuff is for people who don’t deal with wards all day.

It’s a booming business. New-fangled magical technology doesn’t come around every century.

After a few seconds, I return the crystal to its drawer and hold up the ward stone that now has a miniature glyph glowing in a dark purple. Time to put this baby to work. I murmur a simple incantation, feeling the familiar tingle of magic coursing through my fingertips.

The effect is immediate. Logan’s incessant pounding on the door ceases abruptly, replaced by a blessed silence.

"So," Penelope says awkwardly, grabbing the ward stone from my hands and turning it over, poking at the glowing rune. "Fated mates, huh?"

"Ex-fated mates." I grimace. "I’ve broken up with two men in two days. God, what’s wrong with me?"