Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 124: Denial Shattered -- END SEASON TWO

"I thought this was all just a giant ruse. Like when rich kids go to college and pretend they’re learning and graduate with a degree they didn’t earn, because they’re paying people to take their tests for them."

The words come out a little shrill, and Penelope shushes me. I snap my mouth shut, trying to pretend I’m not as panicked as I am.

She grabs my arm. "Come on, let’s get you to the dorm advisor. I’ll show you every class on your schedule."

"My schedule?"

"Which I share with you, of course." Her smile brightens the hallway.

I follow her through the winding corridors, my feet moving on autopilot while my mind spins. The opulence of this place already made me feel like I didn’t belong here, but now I really don’t feel like I do. I was expecting to play a part, to pretend. Not to be a proper student.

I was, in fact, under the vague assumption that this was just a place to keep me while they observed me and kept the Moon siblings from kidnapping me again. I’d thought it was kind of ridiculous and overkill then, but this?

This is just... crazy.

Who does this?

"You’ve been here already?"

"Three days." Penelope’s heels click against the floor. "I wanted to learn the ropes before you arrived. Make it easier for you to settle in."

She didn’t say a word about it in three days. Pretended everything was normal. All to surprise me.

Well, it worked.

My throat tightens. "What about the bar?"

"Marcus hired someone to manage it while I’m gone."

"Marcus?" Seems like she’s been seeing him a lot. "How long am I stuck here?"

"Hard to tell. This place doesn’t work like a regular college. Time moves differently here."

I’d been so excited to get out of that damn hospital, I did not ask all the right questions. Completely blinded by my impending pseudo-freedom.

Once again letting the world just happen around me instead of taking control... Damn it. Get a little high on the idea that you’ve got some leverage on these people, and the rug gets pulled out from under you a week later.

Rookie fucking move.

Completely stupid. freёnovelkiss.com

I’m mortified at my own self. I’m old enough to know better, damn it.

Can I blame Logan’s pheromones? He’s been dumping them every time we’re together, and my body’s been interested in other things, regardless of the awkwardness of being essentially a captive.

The corridor opens into a circular anteroom. Dark wooden doors line the walls, each bearing a brass nameplate. Penelope leads me to one marked ’Dorm Advisor’ and knocks with three sharp raps.

My hands tremble. Penelope squeezes my fingers, her touch warm and familiar.

"I’m so happy to see you okay," she whispers.

The door creaks open. My jaw drops.

Marcus Ashby stands in the doorway, impeccable as always in his tailored suit.

"What the fuck?"

"Language, Ms. d’Armand. Please. This is a place of higher learning, not your friend’s bar."

I glance down the empty corridor, grateful for the momentary privacy. My hands connect with Marcus’s chest, shoving him back into his office. I grab Penelope’s wrist and drag her in with me, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the brass nameplate.

"What kind of game is the Conclave playing? Why do I need to pretend to be a student? I thought I was just here for observation and to keep me under control."

Marcus straightens his tie, his composure intact despite my outburst. He politely ignores my panic-stricken anger. "You misunderstand, Ms. d’Armand. You’re not pretending anything. You are a student here."

"How does that make any sense? I have a job, a life—I can’t just spend the next four years here to get some sort of magical degree. Why would I?"

"Had." Marcus settles behind his mahogany desk. Even this office of ’dorm advisor’ is ridiculously lavish. It looks more like a CEO’s study. "Your previous employment has been terminated."

This doesn’t exactly surprise me, since I’ve been gone forever, but—"You can’t do that!"

"They already have." His fingers steeple together. "This isn’t a choice, Nicole. You need to learn control."

"Control? I don’t need—"

"Five people are dead because you couldn’t contain your power."

I grab the edge of his desk, unable to fight his words. They’re true, after all. But...

"What?" Penelope’s voice cracks. "Nicole?"

I can’t look at her. Can’t face the horror I know I’ll see in her eyes. The memory of that surge of power makes me flinch.

"It was an accident."

"Precisely why you’re here." Marcus’s voice softens. "Your magic is volatile, unpredictable. Without proper training, more people will die. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not!"

"Nicole?" Penelope touches my arm. I flinch away. "What happened?"

"I lost control." My voice breaks. "I didn’t even know. The magic just... exploded."

"Jesus. Why didn’t you tell me?"

"How could I?" The words scrape my throat. "How do you tell your best friend you killed five innocent people?"

"Literally by saying, ’Hey, Penelope, by the way, I killed people and it was an accident.’" She sounds so damn calm, like we aren’t talking about something absolutely horrifying. She’s shocked, but not judging. Her eyes are focused on mine. "You’re not a bad person, Nicole. I’m sure it was some freak thing."

Marcus sighs, and somehow he makes even that sound refined. "Why wouldn’t you read the contract before signing?"

"You said it was okay to sign." The words sound childish even to my ears.

"That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t inform yourself of what you’re signing." His fingers tap against the polished wood. "You need to graduate."

"Graduate? From what, exactly?"

"This is a magical academy, not a human university. It’s about skill and mastery. Work hard, prove yourself capable, and you can leave with ease."

My stomach churns. "What about my apartment? My life?"

"Our past lives die once we get mixed up with the Conclave." His tone carries no sympathy, just cold facts.

"I’m a prime murder suspect. How am I supposed to—"

"All charges have been dropped."

The room spins. Just like that. A few words, and my biggest worry vanishes into thin air. The same way they made my job disappear. The same way they’ll probably handle my lease, my bills, my entire existence.

My legs give out, and I sink into the leather chair behind me. The Conclave’s reach stretches beyond anything I imagined. They don’t just control supernatural politics—they control everything. Every detail of my life can be erased or rewritten with a wave of their hand.

Being a murder suspect had consumed my thoughts, kept me up at night. To them, it’s nothing but an inconvenient detail to be swept away.

"Oh," I say. Because what else is there? How am I supposed to respond? It’s very clear now how deep my denial has run. Some part of me expected to go back to normal life soon.

This entire time, I’ve been convinced of a few simple facts. That this little tussle between the Moon siblings and the Conclave would finish eventually, and I’d no longer be in danger. That, while I might not have my normal job anymore, I’d go back to a more or less normal life once that came to pass. That the Conclave would still be around, but it would be more of a part-time inconvenience than anything else.

That Logan and I would make our way to our happily ever after—not that I thought about that part too hard.

This level of denial is probably what helped me keep my sanity since I was kidnapped. I can see that clearly now that I’m being faced with all these insane truths.

But it still doesn’t make me feel any less stupid. Any less shocked. Any less filled with dread.

"Ms. d’Armand? Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," I lie, as if my entire world hasn’t crumbled.

It isn’t like they lied to me. It was very clear the Conclave was taking control of every aspect of my life. But I guess I just kept thinking that couldn’t really be true. After all, Logan works with them. Logan is not the kind of person who would do these things.

But Logan isn’t the Conclave.

Stupid to put his morals on a political organization that doesn’t give a shit about me.

Taking a deep breath, I rub my hands over my face hard. "Okay. Marcus, explain like I’m a five-year-old with attention issues. What exactly do I have to do to become free again? Not just graduate. I want some control over my life."

He smiles. "Are you prepared? It’s a lot of work."

No. But I have no choice.

I’m not just going to let things happen to me anymore. I’m going to be the fucking protagonist of my own story, not some puppet on strings. This new world I’ve stepped into is insane, and I have to be able to stand on my own two feet.

"Yes."