Wrong kind of beautiful?

Serena's POV

Dominic

He was already dressed for the day in dark training pants that clung to powerful thighs and a fitted black long-sleeve shirt that did nothing to hide the breadth of his chest and the way the fabric stretched across his shoulders. His dark hair was still damp from a shower, pushed back from his forehead. The trimmed beard framed the hard line of his jaw. He looked unfairly good. The ruthless Alpha everyone feared. My secret crush for years. The man I had just witnessed fucking another woman and then catching me spying on myself.

His storm-gray eyes lifted the second I stepped into the room and locked onto me.

The air left my lungs in a rush. Heat flooded my face so fast I felt dizzy. I wanted to turn and run back upstairs. I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. I wanted—God help me—his hands on me again, that same possessive grip from the cake table, but this time without the memory of Lydia between us.

Amelia grinned and pushed a plate toward the empty stool beside her. “There she is! Sleep okay? You look like you wrestled a bear and lost.”

“Fine,” I croaked, hovering near the doorway like a deer caught in headlights. “Great. Perfect. Just… tired.”

Dominic’s gaze traveled slowly down my body—over the way the sweater still couldn’t completely hide the full curve of my breasts, the soft outline of my stomach pressing against the fabric, the leggings stretched tight across my wide hips and thick thighs—then back up to my face. Something dark and unreadable flickered in his eyes. He took a deliberate sip of coffee, and I could have sworn his jaw tightened.

“Morning, Serena.”

His voice was low, rough from sleep or from last night. It sent a traitorous shiver straight down my spine, straight between my legs where I was still sore from my own fingers and the memory of his cock stretching me in my fantasy. I hated how my body reacted to him. Hated how my nipples tightened against the soft sweater, hated how I could feel the heat of him from across the room like a physical touch.

“Alpha,” I managed, then corrected myself because Amelia was right there. “Dominic. Morning.”

Amelia’s eyebrows shot up at the first-name slip but she mercifully didn’t comment. She pushed a plate of bacon and eggs toward me with a knowing grin. “Eat. You’re pale. And don’t even try to lie—you’ve been weird since last night.”

“I was embarrassed,” I admitted, voice small. I sat as far from Dominic as the island allowed, which still wasn’t nearly far enough. He remained standing, leaning against the counter like a dark statue, watching me over the rim of his mug. Every time I reached for my fork or lifted my coffee, I felt his eyes on my hands, my mouth, the way the sweater sleeve slipped to reveal a strip of soft forearm. Embarrassment burned hotter. *He saw me. He saw everything. The way my thighs pressed together under the table, the way my stomach gave when I sat down. What if he thinks I’m pathetic? What if he remembers the way I touched myself thinking it was him and laughs?*

“About falling into my dad?” Amelia asked, voice light but curious. She popped a piece of bacon into her mouth. “It was an accident, Serena. Dad’s used to carrying people around like sacks of potatoes. He’s got that Alpha strength thing.”

I nodded far too quickly. “Yes. It was an accident.”

“And Dad caught you,” I added, the words tasting like shame. “I mean… he came into the room right after I heard noises. I panicked.”

Amelia studied me for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Well, good thing Dad won’t be around much today. Pack meeting. Already started. He’ll be tied up in the council chamber for hours.”

My shoulders immediately relaxed. For the first time since last night, my chest loosened like a too-tight dress finally freeing me. “When?”

“Already over,” she said, checking her phone. “You’re safe. Eat. You look like you need it after whatever kept you tossing and turning.”

I took a long sip of coffee, the bitterness grounding me. The estate felt strangely different without Dominic in it. Quieter. Safer. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been until I entered the dining room and realized I wasn’t scanning every doorway for his broad shoulders or that deep voice making my stomach flip. No dark eyes watching me from the shadows. No overwhelming Alpha scent wrapping around me like a promise and a threat. Just the clink of silverware and Amelia’s cheerful chatter about the party.

We spent the morning eating breakfast and laughing about the previous night’s cake-cutting photos. Amelia showed me on her phone, and I immediately covered my face when she scrolled to the one of Dominic catching me—his arm around my waist, his expression serious, mine completely stunned with shock and something far more dangerous.

“Oh my God,” I groaned, the sound mortified. “Delete it. Right now.”

“Absolutely not,” Amelia laughed, holding the phone out of reach. “You look cute in it. Like you finally gave in to the cake disaster and let my dad hold you.”

“I looked terrified,” I muttered, cheeks flaming hotter. “And you were there. Everyone saw. I was so embarrassed I could barely speak.”

“You were surprised,” she corrected gently, but there was teasing in her voice. “Dad’s hands are… big. Strong. I’ve seen him carry heavy boxes like it’s nothing. And you collapsed into him. It was… smooth.”

“I didn’t collapse,” I protested, but the memory flashed again—my palms slapping against his hard chest, my soft curves pressed fully to him, the hidden stroke of his thumb on my waist. Heat pooled low in my belly despite the shame. *What if he remembers how perfectly I fit? What if he thinks about it every time he looks at me?*

Amelia gave me a suspicious look but let it go. “Okay. Eat more. You need fuel.”

After breakfast, she dragged me into the garden behind the estate. The fresh air helped clear my head. We walked among the rose bushes for nearly an hour, talking about everything except Dominic—old stories from childhood, her latest clinic stories, the ridiculous rival Alpha who had tried to challenge the territory last month. Slowly, wonderfully, my mind stopped replaying last night. The distant howl of the pack meeting wolves faded. I could breathe.

By noon, I felt almost normal again. Almost.

Then a distant howl echoed from the direction of the council grounds—sharp, commanding, carrying that unmistakable Alpha authority.

Amelia glanced toward the sound. “The meeting is probably over soon.”

My stomach tightened into a knot. I immediately shook my head. “No. I’m not—”

She laughed softly. “Serena, you can’t avoid my father forever. He’s not a monster. He’s… complicated. But he’s your friend’s dad. And he’s Alpha. He’ll be around.”

“He knows,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “He knows what I saw. What I did. He probably thinks I’m some desperate omega who can’t stop fantasizing about him. What if he looks at me and sees only the ‘wrong kind of beautiful’? The soft, curvy mess the pack always whispers about? What if he remembers the way I touched myself and feels… sorry for me? Or worse, disgusted?”

Amelia’s eyes softened. She reached over and squeezed my hand. “Hey. Whatever happened, it’s in the past. And if Dad’s here now… maybe you should just talk to him. Or at least let him talk first. He’s not like the other Alphas.”

I stared at her, heart hammering again. “You’re not helping.”

But she only grinned and stood. “Come on. Breakfast is almost over. Maybe we can sneak extra cinnamon rolls before the kitchen staff starts cleaning up.”

We did. And for a little while, I let myself pretend everything was normal. I laughed when she told me the story about the time she accidentally shifted in front of Dominic during a family hike and he’d pretended not to notice. I stole glances at the door, half-expecting him to walk in.

But the massive front doors of the estate opened in the distance.

My smile disappeared.

Several guards stepped aside with crisp salutes. And behind them walked Alpha Dominic Blackwood.

His pack meeting was over.

And he was coming home.

The air changed the moment he entered. The laughter in the dining room quieted. His presence filled the space—broad shoulders, dark suit, storm-gray eyes scanning the room once before locking onto me across the marble floor. I froze, coffee cup halfway to my lips. My cheeks burned. My thighs pressed together under the table, still remembering the ache he had left behind. Embarrassment crashed over me in waves.

He didn’t smile. He rarely did. But his gaze found me immediately, heavy and unreadable, and for one electric second the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

I lowered my eyes, heart slamming so hard I was sure he could hear it.

I had thought I could avoid him.

I had thought I could hide.

But the ruthless Alpha had already decided I was his.

And tonight—whether I was ready or not—he was going to claim every soft, curvy inch of me.