Caught by the Alphas: The Hidden Beauty of Alpha Academy
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
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Chapter 3
ALEXANDRIA
What even prompted me to do this?
I had never kissed anyone before, but in that moment, I was glued to his lips like I had done so plenty of times prior. It was just a mere pressing of our lips-frankly, because I had no idea how to kiss. However, the sparks that flared with that kiss felt just as intoxicating as I had read about in my favorite romance novels.
I could feel the gazes of those inside the club boring into us, accompanied by gasps of surprise and the murmurs that rippled through the crowd.
Whoever this man was, he seemed to carry an air of fame. Nobody batted an eye when Matt tried to assault me, but suddenly, when I kissed this mysterious stranger, everyone around us tuned in as if our moment was a live show.
I pulled away after what felt like an eternity, though my wolf was whining inside me, begging me not to break the spell.
But, just as quickly as I had pulled back, I found myself being pulled toward him again, and the simple pressing of our lips evolved into what felt like a full-blown make-out session.
His lips moved against mine in a rhythm I struggled to match, as he kissed me like someone who had done this countless times before. I could even feel him smile against my lips, and for a brief moment, the world outside faded away.
"What do we have here?" he murmured, breaking the kiss with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Another one of you desperate ones, huh? I can't even get a moment's peace in here."
"Uh, what?" I stammered.
He placed his hand gently under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Despite the darkness of his pupils, his honey-brown irises still shone through, captivating me.
"Well, you aren't that bad to look at," he smirked, a mischievous glint glimmering in his eyes. "So, I'll give you what you want."
Before I could comprehend what was happening, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the club. The man who had been with him-sporting longer brown hair and striking blue eyes-saluted and shot me a smile that bordered on mocking.
"Good luck," he said with a wink.
I didn't have the chance to process his words or behavior before I was unceremoniously shoved into the passenger seat of a car, the door slamming shut behind me.
"What are you doing-"
My words were cut short when he suddenly revved the engine and drove away from the club, my heart racing alongside the speeding car. My eyes widened in disbelief while he focused intently on the road ahead.
Was I really going to be killed like this?
"Who sent you this time?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
My fear came to a sudden halt, replaced by a wave of confusion as I tilted my head to the side.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied.
"Classic line," he sighed, glancing at me momentarily before shaking his head in disbelief. "They even had you ingest something to intensify your scent and heat? Do your people honestly think I'd be fooled into believing you're my mate?"
The car came to an abrupt stop, making my heart race, and I gasped as the seat was pushed back.
"But I'll give you something in return for your courage," he chuckled deeply, and a shiver ran down my spine at the sound. Before I realized what was happening, I found myself no longer sitting in the passenger seat-I was perched on his lap.
"I'll make you satisfied so you won't bother me again. Tell your people to stop pestering me, too. I don't have anything for you."
After uttering those words, he placed his hand possessively on my nape, guiding me closer to him. Our teeth clashed in a painful display, but as I whimpered, he dove deeper, his tongue sweeping inside my lips and massaging the sensitive muscle.
"Nnnghh," I couldn't suppress the involuntary sound that escaped me.
He chuckled once more, the rumble vibrating through my entire body.
"You seem to be enjoying this too much for someone who's supposed to be pretending."
It felt like I was losing my mind; I had no clue what he was talking about, and my brain was turning into absolute mush.
He claimed my lips again, exploring, and I couldn't keep up with his pace. Soon, I was gasping for air and found myself instinctively pushing against his chest. But he only continued to claim my lips, so I bit down on that soft muscle, making him groan and finally pull away.
Breathless and utterly bewildered, I looked up to find his lip bleeding.
"I'm-"
I was about to apologize but then realized that this wasn't my fault.
He wiped the blood from his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the area clean. My eyes followed the motion despite my best intentions, ignoring the heat radiating from my body.
"Who even are you?" I exclaimed, frustration boiling over.
He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, this is a new strategy. I never thought you would go the amnesiac route. You're telling me you don't know me?"
I glared at him, even while still on his lap. "Not everyone knows a pompous, arrogant Alpha. In fact, I don't care who you are! You dragged me out here and kissed me!"
He shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Your strategies are changing, I see. Whatever-I've already given you my lips. I'm not about to hand over anything else."
Then, to my astonishment, he opened the car door and, without a hint of hesitation, shoved me away from his lap. I landed hard on the cold ground, my knees scraping painfully against the cement, blood rushing to the reddened area.
I opened my mouth to unleash another tirade, but he simply tossed money over my body, leaving me speechless.
"There," he said, an insulting smirk stretching across his face. "Use that to get home. And do me a favor-stop playing these roles. It won't do you any good, even for a pretty girl like you."
With that, he slammed the car door, returned to the driver's seat, and peeled away, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt swirling around me. I glared at the back of the car, raising my middle finger high in the air.
"Asshole!" I screamed into the emptiness of the deserted lot.
I looked around, disoriented, realizing I didn't even recognize where I was. To top it off, my body was still heated from what Matt had given me, and my wolf's senses seemed impaired because of it-I couldn't even reach out to her.
Still, I stood up from the hard ground, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
"Alphas are really the worst," I muttered under my breath, walking away, all the while ignoring the lingering tingles on my lips.
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7.2
Clifton, the god of esports, was secretly battling a career-ending wrist injury to protect his team.
A year ago, he kissed his duo partner, Justice, only to be met with violent disgust. Justice shoved him away and dry-heaved in the rain, looking at him like a monster.
Humiliated by the straight man's raw revulsion, Clifton cut him out of his life.
But now, Justice suddenly appeared at Clifton's club as a rookie tryout.
Instead of an ambitious climber, Justice played the perfect, pathetic victim. He cowered, trembled, and acted terrified whenever Clifton was near.
He even signed a bloodsucking contract with a toxic teammate, sparking rumors he was brought in to replace Clifton as captain.
During a scrimmage, Clifton hesitated to shoot because he remembered Justice had just severely burned his hand.
Justice showed no mercy. He ruthlessly gunned Clifton down, humiliating the captain in front of the entire coaching staff.
Clifton was consumed by blinding rage and betrayal.
If Justice was so disgusted by him, why did he fake his devotion for six months just to use him?
Why was he acting like helpless prey now, after trampling all over Clifton's pride?
Determined to rip off the liar's disguise, Clifton dragged Justice into a live stream in front of sixty thousand viewers.
"He's asking if you are in love with me."
Clifton smiled cruelly, waiting for the public execution. But just as the trap snapped shut, a choked, terrified gasp came through the headset.
9.3
Six years ago, my adoptive family framed me for commercial espionage, stripped me of my identity, and threw me out. Now, I finally returned to the Solis estate as a commercial pilot to take back what was mine.
But the first thing my adoptive mother did was threaten me with that forged evidence again. She demanded I take my sister Kiana's place in a marriage contract with a disabled man, simply because Kiana refused to marry him.
When I refused, Kiana ambushed me at the airport with a mob of reporters. She cried for the cameras, publicly accusing me of causing our father's and brother's deaths. She painted me as a ruthless monster who bankrupted the company and ruined the family. The crowd instantly turned on me, screaming that I was a murderer and a gold-digger. Kiana wanted to completely destroy my reputation so I would have no choice but to submit to her arrangement.
I looked at her fake tears, feeling a cold, absolute fury. How dare she use the tragic deaths of the only family members who actually loved me as a prop for her sick show? They had ruined my life once, and now they wanted to bury me alive.
I didn't hesitate. I slapped her hard across the face right in front of the flashing cameras.
"That was for my father and brother."
Then, my real fiancé, a decorated Delta Force commander, rolled through the crowd in his wheelchair. He tossed a classified Pentagon file to the reporters, completely clearing my name and exposing Kiana's lies. I married him to start my revenge, but as I stepped into his heavily secured penthouse that night, I realized my powerful new husband had been preparing for me for a very long time.
7.2
Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor.
When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself.
Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets.
When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.
9.4
My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach.
Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess.
The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings.
Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me.
To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive.
I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger.
But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear.
"Stay here and don't starve."
I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force.
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
9.0
My father was dying in the ICU, and our family company, the Martin Group, was on the verge of total collapse.
While I was desperately trying to sign the consent form for his life-saving surgery, my fiancé, Eston, sent me a text.
"I told you not to be stubborn. The company is mine by Friday. Beg me, and I might pay for the funeral."
He had been secretly looting my family's assets from the inside, waiting for me to break so he could steal everything. He thought I would crawl back to him in absolute despair, surrendering my father's legacy just to survive. The sheer weight of my helplessness crushed my chest as the heart monitor next to my father's bed let out a frantic, high-pitched scream.
The betrayal tore through me, but the despair quickly hardened into a cold, sharp stone.
Why should I let the man who ruined me dance on my family's grave? Why should I let him walk away with everything while I lost the only family I had left?
I wiped away my tears and blocked his number permanently.
Then, I stepped out into the freezing Manhattan rain and went straight to the top floor of the Maxwell building.
I threw my remaining shares onto the desk of Ellwood Maxwell—the apex predator of Wall Street, and Eston's untouchable, ruthless uncle.
"I want you to marry me," Ellwood said, pushing a marriage contract toward me. "That is the only way your company survives."
I picked up the pen. If Eston wanted to destroy my life, I would become his aunt and make him bow.