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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9.1
I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.
It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.
My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.
In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."
When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.
I was met with a slap from my mother.
Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.
To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.
But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.
"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.
"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."
My blood ran cold.
They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.
They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.
They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.
I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.
"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.
I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war.
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.
9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
9.2
For four years, I was the Silvercrest Pack's biggest joke—a scentless, wolfless Omega who somehow became the Alpha's Luna.
I thought I was just naturally defective, until our fourth anniversary, when I overheard my husband Adrian talking to his Beta.
"I’ve been having the kitchens slip a silver-based compound into her meals since the day I marked her."
He confessed the poison was meant to suppress my inner wolf and keep my womb permanently barren. He only married me as a power play to make his highborn mistress, Seraphina, jealous. While I wept over my empty cradle and apologized to his family for my broken body, he was using pack funds to buy her custom luxury goods, tossing me the leftover wrapping paper. When I finally confronted him about the silver and tried to leave, he flew into a feral rage. He violently smashed my head against the marble vanity, leaving me bleeding on the floor, and locked the bedroom door behind him.
I lay there in the cold, staring at the pool of my own blood. My entire life, my endless pain, and my unborn pups were nothing but a cruel, calculated joke to the man who was supposed to be my Mate.
But Adrian didn't know I wasn't just a brainless Omega.
I wiped the blood from my face, climbed down the balcony trellis into the freezing rain, and pulled out an encrypted burner phone.
"The cage is broken. Initiate Phase Two."
7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.