Beaten By The Alpha

Jennifer’s POV

The pounding behind my eyes synced perfectly with the throbbing in my chest.

I sat on the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands as the morning light bled aggressively through the blinds. My head spun with a toxic mixture of cheap tequila, regret, and the lingering, warm haze of something I couldn't quite bring myself to process just yet.

What did I do?

Slowly, the fragmented memories of last night rushed back in suffocating waves. The neon lights of the underground club downtown. The bass vibrating through the floorboards. Stella pulling my arm, laughing, her sky-blue eyes sparkling as she dragged me past the velvet ropes.

I had lied to my dad. I told him I was spending the night studying at Stella’s place to prepare for the upcoming semester. If Edward Jordan—the most rigid, protective man alive—ever found out I sneaked into a dirty, crowded nightclub, he would lose his mind.

And if he ever found out about the stranger...

I pressed my hands against my flushing cheeks. The memory hit me like a physical strike. A dark corner of the VIP lounge. Shadowed, muscular shoulders. Strong hands gripping my waist with a possessive tightness that had rendered me completely breathless. I had been overwhelmed, stressed about school, stressed about my dad's constant late nights, and for once in my life, I just wanted to stop thinking. I wanted to feel something real.

I had given my innocence to a ghost. An anonymous man whose face was obscured by the dim club lights, who had taken me with a raw, silent intensity that had left my body aching and my mind utterly wrecked. I didn't even know his name.

"Stupid, Jennifer," I whispered to myself, pulling my knees up to my chest. "You are so unbelievably stupid."

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand.7:15 AM.

Panic replaced my shame. Semester break was officially over today. Classes started in less than an hour.

I threw off the covers and bolted toward the bathroom, trying to ignore the subtle ache between my thighs and the faint, sweet scent that still clung to my skin. I splashed cold water on my face, staring into the mirror at the girl looking back. Thick black hair tangled around my shoulders, framing my pale skin, button nose, and brown eyes framed by heavy lashes. My small, naturally reddish lips were slightly swollen. I swallowed hard, turning away from my own reflection before the guilt could drown me.

I threw on a simple fitted top that hugged my curved hips, pulled on a pair of comfortable denim jeans, and rushed downstairs.

The house was quiet, but I could hear the faint clinking of a mug in the kitchen.

My heart did a quick stutter. I slowed my footsteps, taking a deep breath to smooth out my nervous expression before stepping into the kitchen.

Dad was standing by the counter in his tactical flannel shirt, pouring black coffee into a steel thermos. Edward Jordan was forty-four, but he carried himself with a quiet, rigid strength that made him seem intimidating to anyone who crossed his path. Straight nose, short black hair sprinkled with faint silver at the temples, and sharp, observant eyes that never missed a single detail.

"Morning, Jen," he said, his voice low and grounded as he set the pot down. His sharp gaze swept over me, taking in my wet hair and rushed attire. "You were up early. I didn't hear your car pull in last night."

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, keeping my voice smooth as I reached for an apple from the bowl on the island. "Yeah, Stella and I worked pretty late on our course schedules. I came in quiet so I wouldn't wake you up."

My dad narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping closer. For a second, my heart stopped—I was terrified he could smell the stale club air or see the lie written across my face. But then he just reached out, his large, calloused hand tenderly brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You push yourself too hard, sweetheart," he said softly, his tone softening into that fierce, protective warmth he only ever showed me. "I don't like you staying out so late. The roads around here aren't safe at night, especially near the woods."

"I know, Dad," I said, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm careful. I promise."

"Good." He kissed the top of my head, grabbing his keys from the counter. "I've got a long shift today. Some property owner out near the county line reported wild animals tearing up his livestock again. I'll be out late."

"Pest control?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Something like that," he replied evasively, checking his watch. "Get to campus. You don't want to be late for your first day back."

"Love you, Dad," I called out as he walked toward the front door.

"Love you too, Jen. Lock up behind you."

The heavy front door clicked shut, followed by the rumble of his truck engine fading down the driveway. I let out a long, shaky breath, leaning against the kitchen counter as the guilt washed over me once more. He cared about me so much, he had raised me alone ever since my mom died, and here I was, lying to his face about sneaking into clubs and sleeping with strangers.

shaking the heavy thoughts from my head, I grabbed my bag and keys, rushing out the door to face the start of the semester.

Jennifer’s POV

The morning sun hit the glass doors of the humanities building, casting sharp reflections across the concrete quad. I dragged my feet, the pavement feeling heavy beneath my sneakers. Every step reminded me of last night—the pulse of the bass in that underground club, the smell of cheap tequila, and the ghost of a stranger's hands on my waist.

"Jennifer, pay attention!"

Stella’s sharp voice pulled me out of my head. She did a quick, dramatic pivot on her heels, her pink leather bag swinging smoothly with the motion.

She looked like she had spent three hours in front of a mirror, which she probably had. Her strawberry blonde hair fell in soft, glossy waves over her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face. She wore a fitted pastel top that showed off her collarbones, and her pouty lips were painted with a shiny pink gloss that caught the morning light.

"Well?" She smoothed her skirt, her sky-blue eyes wide with expectation. "Does this say '