Page 186 of His Drama Queen

Stephanie was quiet for a long stretch. Then: "Are you okay? Really?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'm figuring it out."

"Did they hurt you?"

"No. Not this time." The distinction mattered. They'd hurt me before—months of psychological warfare that almost broke me. But during this heat? "They built me a nest. Let me set every boundary. Dorian said..." I trailed off.

"What did Dorian say?"

"That he loves me." The words felt strange in my mouth. "And I said it back. Because apparently I'm an idiot who falls in love with her bully."

"Oh, Vespera."

"I know. I know it's fucked up. I know I should run. But—" I met her eyes. "But I don't want to. And I don't know if that makes me brave or stupid."

"Maybe both." She squeezed my hand. "What do you need from me?"

"Just be my friend. Not my therapist. Not my protector. My friend who gets coffee with me and lets me pretend my life is normal for five minutes."

"I can do that." She pulled me toward the café. "But I'm still going to ask invasive questions about whether the sex was good."

Despite everything, I laughed. "The sex was excellent."

"Thank god. If you're going to make questionable life choices, at least get good dick out of it."

We got coffee and sat in our usual corner, and for twenty blissful minutes, we talked about nothing. About her classes and mine. About the production and Vivian Strasberg coming to the showcase. About normal things that had nothing to do with Alphas or bonds or the complicated mess my life had become.

It felt like breathing.

Robbiecalledthateveningwhile I was back in my room at the pack house, supposedly doing homework but actually just staring at my theater notes.

"You've been avoiding me," he said the instant I answered.

"I've been in heat."

"I know. Stephanie texted me updates when you went radio silent." His voice was sharp. Worried. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Mostly."

"That's not convincing."

I set down my pen, pulling my knees to my chest. "It was good, Robbie. The heat was actually good. They listened. They cared. Dorian told me he loved me and I said it back and now I'm living in this weird reality where I'm in love with the Alpha who tormented me and I don't know if that makes me healing or trauma bonded or fucking stupid."

"You're not stupid," Robbie said immediately. "You're surviving. And if he's actually changed—if they've actually changed—then maybe it's not trauma bonding. Maybe it's complicated love."

"Is there any other kind?"

"Not in your life, apparently." He paused. "I'm still coming for your showcase, you know. Two weeks. Front row. And if any of them treat you badly, I'm going to key their cars."

I smiled. "That's very criminal of you."

"I have hidden depths." Another pause. "So you're happy? Or getting there?"

"I'm... trying. They're trying. It's tentative and messy and I'm still angry about a lot of things. But yeah. I think we might actually figure it out."

"Good. Because you deserve to be happy, Vesper. Even if it's complicated."

"Thanks, Rob."