The Alpha Who Wants Me Back

Chapter 2

Krista’s POV:

I woke up with dizziness, head spinning from alcohol.

I threw a pillow over my face and groaned, “Ahhh… It wasn’t a good idea at all, clubbing just a night before the new beginning”.

The events from last night started churning in my head: the club, the music, Aizal dragging me to the dance floor, a blue-eyed guy with judgemental energy, and a voice that sounded like he ate thunder for breakfast, but still felt way too seductive.

But what was he even saying? Mate? Rejection? And why did it feel like my heart was being ripped in half? Why did it feel like every breath burned like a fire?

I sat up, rubbing my temples, “Maybe it’s nothing. I was so drunk that all the sensations got mixed up and made me feel that way.”

“Ugh Krista! Stop being so dramatic”, I mumbled, swinging my legs off the bed, “I have bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that today is my first day at university”.

After a hot shower, I stood in front of the mirror with a crisp white button-down shirt tucked in high-waisted jeans.

Hair tied in a pony-tail, a hint of gloss and a spritz of floral perfume, I tried to convince myself, “I don’t look nervous at all”.

But deep down, I was a tangled mess of anxiety and caffeine.

My phone buzzed.

Aizal: “Don’t forget to bring your ID card. Fighting <3”

I smiled at the message of my walking, talking support system.

Sliding my bag on the shoulder, I gave one final glance in the mirror and said aloud, “You’ve got this”.

Hurriedly walking down the stairs, I looked at my parents, who were already sitting on the dining table.

Mother opened her mouth to say something.

I assessed what she was about to say and interrupted, “I’ll skip the breakfast today. Goodbye. Love you Darcia”.

I could feel her death glare, as she complained to Dad, “Aghh…this girl never takes care of her health”.

___________

Nova Institute of Advanced Studies. The campus was huge. It felt like an exquisite combo of Hogwarts and a tech institute.

I clutched the strap of my bag tighter and checked the schedule on my phone, “Department of Biomedicine, classroom no.5.”

After a few minutes of searching, I found the classroom. I slipped inside, sat on a seat near the middle, and exhaled.

A few moments later, the door creaked open again. A tall figure moved in, tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up his muscular arms. The sleek metal specs rested perfectly on the bridge of his nose, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw. The kind of glasses that didn’t hide his eyes, they weaponized them.

“No freaking way”, I exclaimed. It wasn’t an imagination. It was actually him. The guy from the club.

His gaze scanned the room, until it landed on me, and stopped. My stomach coiled in a tight knot.

“Relax. Calm down”, I breathed, but it didn’t work.

He moved to the podium, and finally addressed,

“Hey everyone! I’m Professor Zevaric Leonhart, and I’ll be leading your Research Methodology class for this semester”.

There was pin-drop silence in the class. Even the backbenchers looked alert.

He continued, “Before we begin, I expect a few ground rules to be followed in my class. Punctuality, discipline and silence. I don’t tolerate distractions, nor do I accept amateurism”.

I was barely breathing, “He is my professor? What kind of twisted coincidence is it?”

“Also”, he added, “I don’t forget faces”.

Heat rose up to my cheeks, “OK…that was definitely aimed at me”.

The class passed on course contents, assignment deadlines, and whatnot…

I tried to focus, but my mind was locked in a constant loop, “Why is he here? How does he know me? Why do I feel like I’m going to be haunted by this man?”

At the end of the class, I rushed out. I needed air, or maybe a therapist. I was halfway down the corridor, when I froze at the spot.

He was standing right in front of me. “You’re in my class. Interesting”, he took a few steps towards me, while adding, “Miss…?”

“Ash.. Ashford”, I tried to muster myself up, “Krista Ashford”.

“Hmm…Ms. Krista Ashford”, his lips molded into a smirk, “I didn’t expect to see you here”.

“Look”, I said while crossing my arms, “If this is about last night, I have already apologized. And if you’re planning to fail me just because of a spilled drink, then I’ll take it up to the HOD”.

His eyes narrowed, “You think it’s only about that?”

Rage. I could see wrath and anger flashing in his eyes. And with that, he turned away. Leaving me with millions of questions, and not a single damn answer.