Page 43 of The Drama King

The silence that followed was charged with implication. Our pack's sexual dynamics were complex, involving all three of us in various combinations depending on hierarchy, mood, and biological cycles. The careful way we avoided discussingthe contradiction between our private behavior and public prejudices was a delicate balance that Oakley seemed suddenly intent on disrupting.

"Something you want to say, Oak?" Dorian's voice carried a warning, the easy informality of his nickname offset by the dangerous undertone.

Oakley met his gaze directly, cedar scent warming with notes I couldn't quite identify. "Just wondering about the consistency of our positions. Designation-based prejudice seems... selective in its application."

The challenge was subtle but unmistakable. I leaned back in my chair, genuinely curious about how Dorian would handle this direct questioning of our ideological foundations.

"Context matters," Dorian replied smoothly, but I could smell the sharp edge of annoyance beneath his sandalwood. "Pack dynamics involve hierarchy and dominance establishment. That's different from other considerations."

"How exactly?" Oakley pressed, his voice still quiet but gaining strength. "What makes our activities 'hierarchy establishment' while condemning similar behaviors in others?"

I intervened before the confrontation could escalate beyond strategic usefulness. "This is unproductive. Whatever ideological inconsistencies we maintain, they don't affect our immediate tactical situation."

Both Alphas turned to me, tension crackling between them like electricity.

"However," I continued, maintaining clinical detachment, "Oakley raises a strategic point. If we're publicly inconsistent in our designation prejudices, it creates vulnerabilities that opponents could exploit."

"Opponents?" Dorian's smile was sharp. "She's a scholarship Omega, not a military strategist."

"Is she?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Her showcase performance suggested a sophisticated understanding of psychological manipulation and performance theory. Her support network is more robust than typical. And she's shown remarkable resistance to our standard breaking tactics."

I paused, letting the implications settle before continuing.

"Perhaps we've been approaching this as if we're dealing with a typical target, when the evidence suggests otherwise."

Dorian leaned forward, his scent intensifying with something that transcended simple dominance. "Then we escalate. Move the confrontation off campus where she doesn't have institutional protections or witnesses."

"Precisely what I was thinking," I agreed, reaching for my tablet and pulling up the theater department calendar. "There's a required outing next Tuesday evening to the Grand Theater downtown.The Duchess of Malfirevival. All performance majors must attend for course credit."

"Perfect," Dorian murmured, his expression darkening with anticipation. "She'll be separated from her dorm room fortress, away from faculty oversight."

"And vulnerable to more... direct approach," I added, watching Oakley's scent spike with alarm.

"Define 'direct,'" he said carefully, setting his barely-touched bourbon aside with deliberate precision.

Dorian rose from his chair with fluid grace, moving toward Oakley with predatory intent. "Nothing crude, Oak. Just more intensive Alpha presence. Let her understand what she's really dealing with when she challenges the natural order."

"It crosses a line," Oakley insisted, though his voice lacked the conviction of true opposition. "Academic pressure is one thing. Physical intimidation is another entirely."

"Is it?" Dorian challenged, now standing directly behind Oakley's chair, his hands resting on the leather back. "We crosslines with each other constantly. Or have you forgotten what happened right here after the showcase?"

Dorian's dominant scent wrapped around Oakley, who despite his ideological objections, couldn't quite suppress the slight softening in his posture that suggested his body remembered exactly what had happened in this room.

"That's different," Oakley said quietly, refusing to turn around and acknowledge Dorian's looming presence. "We're pack. Consenting adults."

"Are we equals though?" Dorian asked, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made even my analytical composure waver slightly. "Is that really what you think our dynamic is about?"

His hands moved from the chair to Oakley's shoulders, the touch possessive and claiming despite the casual nature of the contact.

I cleared my throat, intervening before the confrontation could evolve into something that would derail our strategic planning entirely. "This territorial display is fascinating, but perhaps we could return to tactical considerations?"

Dorian's hands stilled on Oakley's shoulders, but he didn't step away. "Fine. Corvus, outline your proposal."

"Three-phase approach," I said, consulting my notes despite having already memorized the plan. "First, isolation. Ensure she's separated from Shaw and Gao after the performance. Second, confrontation. All three of us, full Alpha presence, no suppressants. Third, psychological escalation. Make it clear that her showcase success only makes her more valuable as a target."

"I like it," Dorian said, his hands finally leaving Oakley's shoulders as he returned to his seat. "She thinks talent will protect her. We need to demonstrate that it only makes her more interesting prey."

Oakley remained silent, but his scent betrayed continued unease. The contradiction between his sexual submission to Dorian and his moral objections to our treatment of Vespera was becoming increasingly complex to navigate.