Mated to My Powerful Alpha Abroad

**Dawn's POV “Who's that hot guy? I think I know him…" My lungs were still burning from the sprint across the airport towards my slowly closing gate. The only thing I could really focus on was the strain on my lungs. My vision was blurred with my breathlessness. So even if I did turn around to see whatever man candy the attendant in front of me was talking about, I wouldn't have been able to see him clearly. But in any case, I managed to hand the attendant my ticket, trying to catch my breath while breathing through my nose. Her attention was apparently taken up by said hot guy who must have been close behind me, but I needed to get on the plane so I could sit down and catch my breath.. I waved the ticket in front of her face and the hypnotic spell this hot guy cast on her was broken. “Just in time." The woman smiled down at me, although I could see there was a fleck of irritation in her eyes at having to take her gaze away from him to see to my late arrival at the gate. The best I could offer her was an apologetic and breathless smile, too scared that any attempt to open my mouth and speak a verbal apology would result in me puking all over the floor in front of her. That wasn't what you wanted just before getting on a flight for several hours headed to Europe. She quickly returned her attention to said hot guy and I boarded the plane. I was still panting by the time I sat down, my heart still thrumming like a drum inside of my chest as I rummaged through my carryon bag for a bottle of water. I took in several deep calming breaths and sipped the water. I felt the eyes of the passenger beside me before she placed her hand on my hand lightly to gain my attention. I turned to see that she was giving me a curious look. “Are you alright?" she asked. The woman, a girl around my age, maybe 19 or 20, had a sweet smile, with dark hair and blue eyes that turned into crescents as she smiled at me with an amused expression. “You're not going to die right next to me, are you?" Quickly swallowing the water in my mouth, I let out a breathy laugh, before I shook my head at her. “No, no I'm sorry, I'm just a little bit out of breath," I explained as she nodded, seemingly content with my explanation. “I tend to save dying for the second time I meet a stranger." She gave me a chortled laugh in response, her brows rising to her hairline as she covered her face, slightly embarrassed at the sound that had come out of her. Then she relaxed back into her chair. She seemed relaxed one moment, and then a gasp left her when the lights of the plane flashed on and I caught sight of her hands as they placed a death grip on the armrests beside her. “Are you alright?" I asked, turning the question back on her. “Oh… I'll be fine. I'm just a terrible flyer," she admitted. “Never been any good on planes, doubt it'll start now. It's a long way to Coaliton." This time it was my turn to raise my brows, shocked at her confession. “You're going to the art program at Coaliton University?" I asked, suddenly excited, and placed a hand on my chest to gesture to myself when she nodded. “So am I! I'm one of my college's representatives," I peaked around for a moment at the other seats, trying to see if I spotted anyone familiar. “Though I don't know where my counterpart is. They must have caught a different flight. My name is Dawn, I work in ceramic art." I turned back to her again when I couldn't find anyone I recognized. “Candice," she said, introducing herself. “l'm a painter. I would shake your hand and show a bit more enthusiasm but I'm a little bit–a lot–petrified right now." I could feel her trembling a little and nodded my head as I looked at her sympathetically. “Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked, and she nodded her head. “Talking," she said. “Talking helps. Keeps me distracted. Are you excited about the competition?" I nodded my head excitedly, more than happy to talk about the thing that had been taking over my mind for the past few months. “H*ll yeah, are you kidding?" I breathed out. “I've been waiting for an opportunity like this my whole life! I pinch myself every five minutes just to make sure it's not a dream. It's hard being one of a few awkward art geeks on campus." Candice nodded as she laughed, her head still bent and her eyes still closed, but she was laughing as though she understood exactly what I meant. “We will be on a campus full of awkward art geeks just like us. Maybe some hot ones too." She bounced her eyebrows and I couldn't help but laugh. “I doubt I'll have time for that," I said doubtfully. Then I smiled enthusiastically. “I plan to be in my studio sculpting all hours of the night. I am so ready to bring my art to a whole new level. Being around the inspiration of others. It's a whole different world over there." “You don't seem nervous or scared at all," she said, impressed. “Oh I am very but also very nervous. It will be competitive and jarring, yes. And soul-sucking when the muses leave you and you lose the creative juices, but god…" I pushed my head back against my seat as I shook it in wonder. “This will be a real chance to see if I'm actually as good as I think I am. I hope I win but if not… This whole experience… It's gonna be perfect," I concluded. I had pictured it a thousand times since getting my award letter and initial stipend from the school. I let myself drift off in a daze and then I felt my eyes scrunch together for a moment as I turned to Candice. I had lost track of the fact that I was talking to her out loud. I gave her an awkward smile, a cringe took a slight hold of me as I looked at her. “Was that weird?" Candice laughed again, and I felt slightly less horrible about my passionate outburst. “Are you kidding? I'd have you way beat in awkward conversation if I didn't believe my mortality was at risk." I smiled at her. “Come on, starving artist like yourself? Your mortality is at risk every second." “Ain't that the truth…" Candice mumbled as she pushed her head back into the seat, seemingly having calmed down enough to breathe steadily again and release the death grip she had on the seats. I decided to leave her alone for a moment to regain her energy. But then I heard a slight murmur from a passenger ahead of me. “OMG, is that who I think it is? He's even hotter in person." I tried not to roll my eyes. It seemed like the hot guy was now boarding our flight. He couldn't be that hot… I turned my head to the aisle and I took in a large frame with a broad back. There was a leather bag strapped to it, two straps slung over wide shoulders, and a mop of black hair rested on the lapel of a long coat. I moved to look away from the new passenger as he turned his face towards me. I caught sight of his familiar face as he surveyed the aisles across from mine for his seat. My heart sank as I began to recognize that face. It belonged to a boy—no, a man… No, I had it right the first time, a boy named Craig Blackstone. A far too good looking student at my school with 'a standoffish attitude and a very, very private life'. That's what the magazine article beneath his picture had read once, anyway. The Craig Blackstone I had met on a date one night was warm and accommodating, the perfect gentleman, up until, you know, he completely blew me off in the middle of that date for no apparent reason whatsoever. Flashes of memory shot through my mind as I looked at him, heavy hands and opened mouthed kisses. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck raised as though I could feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, hot and greedy and impatient. It was the first and only time I had acted so impulsively on a date, maybe there was something in the air that night, maybe I had been pent up from college stress and hoping to find some relief anywhere I could. I don't know what on earth got into me. I couldn't understand it fully when I invited him back to my room. What was also a mystery to me, was the way he had pulled away from me—no, yanked himself away, five minutes later as though he had been scalded by something hot and hurting. He didn't offer any explanation that night when he just put his jacket back on and left my room. I didn't see him again after that, not personally at least. During sophomore year, I did see him everywhere for a few months on my social media feed and in an advertisement for a magazine, modeling for some brand that I was sure I couldn't even pronounce properly. He was quite attractive, I'll give him that. But a girl tends to develop a bitter taste for a guy when they leave just before a good time with a horrified look on their face and no further explanation, like, ever. I held my breath as he came closer looking for his seat and found it just behind mine. We locked eyes for a moment and he flashed me a casual smile. Wow, he really was gorgeous. I gave a weak smile in return as he walked by and took a moment to store his bag in the overhead compartment. His fresh cologne scent wafted over me and he lightly brushed my arm as he got the bag situated before sitting down. When the shocked haze of having him so close—too close to me wore off a dreaded thought occurred to me. I tried to push the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach down. The thought was pushing through and demanded to be acknowledged. The possibility that Mr. Bippity Boppity Boo, the disappearing act himself, could be the other representative from our college and that I would have to partner with during the competition. But that… wasn't really possible, was it? The guy was built like he'd been to war and back five times over, I didn't know if it was his height or his girth that was more impressive (and intimidating). The only thing artistic about him was, granted, his physical appearance. But you didn't get into an international Coaliton competition by looking pretty. You got into it by having paint layered to you like a second skin, the way Candice had, and you got it by having cuts and dry hands from sculpting like I did. Not… whatever it was that Craig was good at doing. So no, there was no way he was the second representative. He was probably just going to Europe for some hot shot modeling gig… Right?