Page 12 of The Drama King

The question hung between us. Our previous targets had been driven away, eliminated as competition. But the idea of Vespera remaining at Northwood, thoroughly dominated and reshaped according to pack will, sent heat coursing through me.

"As an experiment," I said carefully. "I'm curious what happens when a scholarship Omega fully submits instead of fleeing."

"Could set an interesting precedent," Corvus agreed. "Other scholarship students would see the consequences of resistance versus acceptance."

"She'd be an interesting addition to our circle," Oakley suggested carefully. "Someone with her sensitivity and talent would bring balance to what we've built."

Another spike of possessiveness hit me, stronger than before. Pack dynamics meant shared access to willing partners—it had never bothered me. The fact that the idea of sharing Vespera did was a complication I refused to examine.

"First, she needs to be properly broken," I said firmly. "Academic pressure begins immediately. I want grades trending downward within two weeks. Social isolation should progress naturally once other students realize she's our target."

"And designation pressure?" Corvus asked.

"Daily scent exposure, calibrated physical contact, vocal modulation to trigger submissive responses," I outlined, my body responding to the planned hunt. "Nothing explicit enough to justify complaints, but consistent enough to wear down psychological defenses."

I drained my brandy, feeling the familiar satisfaction of a well-crafted strategy mixed with unusual personal anticipation. "We coordinate all efforts. No individual initiatives that might undermine the overall plan. By Thanksgiving, she should be malleable enough for the final phase."

Both nodded agreement, and I felt pack bonds solidify around our objective. Whatever complications her wealthy friends presented, whatever unexpected challenges she offered, the outcome was inevitable. No scholarship student had ever withstood our coordinated attention.

"She'll learn that survival at Northwood means belonging to us," I continued, voice dropping lower. "And once she accepts that truth, we'll remake her completely. Strip away everything she thinks she is and rebuild her as ours."

I moved toward the door. "Begin tomorrow. Academic pressure starts Monday. We'll meet next week to check progress." The meeting was over.

"Dorian?" Corvus called as they headed out.

I paused. "Yes?"

"Your personal investment in this target is notable. Ensure it doesn't compromise pack objectives."

The gentle warning carried no judgment, but its implications were clear. In a decade of friendship, I'd never shown this focused interest in breaking a specific student.

"My objectives align perfectly with pack interests," I replied, injecting enough Alpha authority to discourage further inquiry. "Vespera Levine will submit. The only question is how thoroughly."

After they left, I stayed in the study, watching the grounds darken through the windows.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the photos Corvus had taken. Vespera walking to class, head high despite everything. Vespera in the library, lost in her reading. Vespera laughing with friends. The last image showed her crossing the quad after her dining hall shift. Even exhausted, she walked like someone who refused to yield.

For a moment, I found myself wondering what it would be like to have that determination directed toward me, to be worthy of loyalty and strength rather than focused on destroying it.

The thought was so uncharacteristic I immediately dismissed it. Vespera Levine was a target, nothing more. An obstacle to pack dominance requiring systematic removal.

I couldn't shake the memory of her scent, or how my body had responded to her proximity in Cruz's class. Something about her called to instincts I'd never experienced with previous targets. Protective impulses contradicting my intentions, possessive urges beyond typical Alpha dominance.

By Thanksgiving, she would understand her place in Northwood's hierarchy. She would submit to pack authority and beg for the privilege of remaining.

And if the process required more personal involvement than usual, well, some targets simply demanded more thorough attention.

I turned off the lights and headed upstairs, passing Oakley's door and Corvus's meticulously organized workspace. My body still thrummed with anticipation and mind flying thoughts of what was to come. Planning tomorrow's opening moves in what promised to be the most interesting semester Northwood had seen in years.

five

Vespera

TheSeptemberafternoonheldthe last warmth of early autumn as I made my way to Studio C for Scene Study with Professor De Scarzis. Two weeks into the semester, I'd begun to find a rhythm in my classes, a sense of cautious optimism that maybe I could navigate Northwood's treacherous social waters through sheer academic excellence.

That optimism died the moment I saw the partner assignment sheet posted outside the studio door.

"No," I breathed, scanning the list twice to make sure I hadn't misread. But there it was, printed in stark black letters: Vespera Levine & Corvus Barclay - "The Crucible," Act IV.