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Summary
Porsche takes a deep breath and then lets it and his scent out, his pheromones swirling through the unknown alphas, soothing ruffled instincts. This is part of what makes Porsche so good at his job. His scent is like metaphorical catnip to other alphas, a quirk that had not been the most enjoyable in high school.
The growls and hisses in the room quiet down, and Porsche wonders if the situation is really as bad as he was told.
A loud bang has him jumping back, putting his back to the far wall as his heart thumps wildly. A snarl follows it, making all the hairs on Porsche’s arms stand up. Oh fuck. He fights down the terror that the noise fills him with and forces his legs to move, backing down the hall.
His guide is still there, staring at him with eyes wide with shock.
“Okay, that’s a really bad case,” Porsche admits.
“I can’t tell if you’re a moron or the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
Porsche turns to the other man and smiles, “Bit of both if I’m honest.”