Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 120: Loophole

When Logan returns, Chancellor Rupert-Richard-Roger-whatever Vale is long gone, and I’m basking in my success, rolling from side to side on my hospital bed. It’s larger than a real hospital bed, measuring closer to a double than a single. Just enough to make it so Logan can share space, but not big enough for us to do it comfortably.

"You seem to be in a good mood?" His voice rises a little at the end, his brows pulling together in confusion. Or maybe just worry. It’s hard to tell.

"Yep." Grinning, I push myself into a comfortable sitting position. "Vale’s going to get me a cell phone."

Logan freezes for a second. He glances toward a corner of the room, where there’s probably a camera hidden somewhere. I’m sure it’s not the only one. "A cell phone? Really?"

"Really. Oh, and I might need to borrow Marcus. I hope you’re rich."

His familiar cocky grin enters the picture. "I knew it. You’re just with me for my money. Well, that and my amazing package."

I give him a dry stare, and he clears his throat.

"Anyway, what do you need him for?"

"Vale wants me to sign a contract. He also wants to enroll me at Thornhaven."

His entire body stiffens. "What kind of contract?"

"The kind that needs a lawyer to look at it. I don’t know what it’s for. He says it’s to protect me and," waving my hands in the general direction of, well, everything, "you guys."

"Don’t sign anything." Logan’s voice drops low. "Not a single page."

"Hence why I need Marcus. I have no intention of signing, but I want someone who knows what they’re doing to look it over. Just in case."

"Ashby." Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. "Fine. I’ll talk to him."

Then he pauses, eyes narrowing. "Are you sure Vale will allow Marcus to review the contract?"

"Vale didn’t specify I couldn’t have legal counsel." I shrug. "And if he protests, I’m definitely not signing."

He grunts, unconvinced. "Remember what I said. Don’t sign anything."

"Logan." Staring at the man in exasperation, I say, "You’re literally the walking advertisement for why I won’t sign mysterious magical contracts."

The daft man actually looks pleased by that.

It was not a compliment.

"Good. What else did he say?"

"It all sounded very threatening at first. He pretended to be super nice, which was really creepy. Then he admitted he’s a dragon. Then he told me he doesn’t care if I live or die and basically implied that I need to sign the contract or else."

By the last word, Logan’s cheek is twitching at an alarming rate. "I see."

This time it’s my turn to narrow my eyes. "You knew he was a dragon." He didn’t even blink when I mentioned that part.

"Seriously? That’s what you’re focused on right now?"

"Considering that I was kidnapped by dragons and told they have no human morals—yes, actually. I am."

Logan groans. "Yes. I knew he was a dragon. It’s not exactly a secret around here."

I mean, it was a secret from me. But I’m not really from around here, so I guess I’ll give him that.

"Nicole, you don’t have to sign any contract in order to be safe. I swear that to you. Dragons can be a little..." He pauses. "Well, they don’t have the best relationship with the truth."

"So what does the Conclave want from me?"

Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing. "Marcus."

The name comes out as a resigned sigh, but something in his face shifts. A tension I hadn’t noticed eases from his shoulders.

"He told you about the Conclave?"

"Among other things." I pick at a loose thread on the blanket. "Like how you’re some sort of wolf prince."

"Alpha heir." His lips quirk. "There’s a difference."

"Sure there is, Your Highness."

Logan just smiles faintly before continuing, "I don’t know exactly what they want from you."

"But you have theories."

"Speculation." He perches on the edge of my bed, his weight creating a dip that slides me closer to him. "Nothing concrete. And nothing you can be forced into."

Can. The word catches in my mind like a nagging splinter. Not ’will’ or ’should’—he said can. Which means whatever the Conclave wants requires my consent.

That means I’m right. I have some sort of leverage here.

No more living the life of someone where things just happen around me. I’m going to take control of my life again, one way or another.

"What kind of speculation?"

"Nicole—"

"No." I grab his wrist. "You don’t get to dodge this one. Not after everything that’s happened. I know your speculations can’t possibly be under contract."

His skin burns hot under my fingers. The muscle beneath tenses, then relaxes.

"You’re right." He covers my hand with his free one. "But I need you to understand something first. The Conclave... they’re not evil. They’re not good either. They’re political."

"Like Congress?"

"Worse. They’re ancient families who’ve held power for generations. All the old bloodlines. And they’re desperate to maintain that power."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You’re different." His eyes lock onto mine. "Your magic isn’t anything they can get their hands on. Marcus told you about Catalysts?"

I nod.

"The last officially recorded Catalyst lived over three hundred years ago. The Conclave’s been searching for another ever since."

My throat tightens. "Why?"

"Power. A Catalyst can amplify others’ magic. Make them stronger. More powerful."

"You said they can’t force me into anything. But Marcus said all they need to do is drink my blood."

Logan shakes his head, his fingers tightening around mine. "Your blood would only work for a few minutes at best. It’s not efficient."

A frown tugs at my lips as his words sink in. Something clicks in my mind—something important. Staring at the man in front of me, I can’t help my face twisting into a scowl.

"What’s wrong?"

"You’re talking." The words come out slow as I process this. "You’re talking quite freely about all of this."

His lips curve into that familiar, knowing smile. The one that makes my heart skip a beat even as my brain catches up to what this means.

"I am."

The loophole unfolds in my mind like a flower blooming. "Because I already know some things. Marcus told me about the Catalysts, about the Conclave..." My eyes widen. "That must have unlocked whatever was keeping you from talking about it."

"Smart girl." His thumb traces circles on my wrist. "Once certain information is revealed through proper channels, the restrictions lift."

"So Marcus telling me about the Conclave—"

"Opened the door for me to discuss it further." His eyes gleam with approval. "You’re catching on quick."

The pieces slot together in my mind, but there are still missing parts. Like, "Why couldn’t he just tell me anything then?"

Logan gives me his best innocent puppy look. "What do you mean? How would I know what your lawyer says to you?"

Right. Cameras.

Annoyed by this whole life under supervision thing, I mutter, "I should have asked to be sent home instead of asking for a cell phone."

"They won’t allow it yet. But they will. You’re not going to be able to avoid the Academy, but it will be better than," he gestures around us, "this."

Not much is worse than this, but I came directly from a situation that was. Maybe that’s why I haven’t gone insane in here.

"The Academy isn’t what worries me." Not that I’m thrilled about it. "It’s everything else that comes with it."