Page 44 of The Drama King
"There's another matter we should discuss," I said, deliberately steering toward more dangerous territory. "Dorian's unusual fixation on this particular target."
The room went very still. Challenging pack leadership, even obliquely, required careful calculation. But Dorian's obsession with Vespera Levine had moved beyond our standard procedures, and strategic analysis demanded acknowledgment of potential risks.
"Explain," Dorian said, his voice carrying the kind of soft menace that preceded violence.
"You've invested more personal attention in her than any previous target," I noted, keeping my tone analytical rather than accusatory. "Your scent changes when discussing her. You've begun collecting information beyond strategic necessity. And your reaction to her showcase performance was... distinctive."
"What Corvus is diplomatically avoiding saying," Oakley interjected with unexpected boldness, "is that you looked at her like you wanted to claim her, not break her."
Dorian's knuckles whitened around his whiskey glass, but his expression remained controlled through obvious effort. "Is that your professional assessment?" he asked, looking between us.
"It's what I've observed," I replied carefully. "The question is whether this represents an evolution in objectives. Are we still attempting to drive her from Northwood, or has this become something else entirely?"
The silence stretched between us, filled with implications none of us wanted to examine too closely. Finally, Dorian set his glass down with deliberate precision.
"Perhaps it has," he admitted, surprising me with his directness. "She's different from the others. More worthy of serious attention."
"Worthy how?" Oakley pressed, leaning forward with intensity that suggested his moral objections might be motivated by something more personal than principle.
Dorian's smile was all predator, but there was something almost vulnerable beneath it. "Worthy of being reshaped rather than simply eliminated. Of understanding her true place. Not just at Northwood, but in our world."
The possessive note in his voice confirmed my analysis. This had indeed evolved beyond our usual pattern of harassment and removal. Whether that represented strategic opportunity or dangerous obsession remained to be determined.
"And after she's properly educated?" I asked, probing further.
"That depends on how gracefully she accepts instruction," Dorian replied, his eyes darkening with something that transcended simple dominance. "I'm beginning to think she might be worth keeping."
Oakley's scent sharpened with what smelled distinctly like alarm, though his expression remained carefully neutral. "What, exactly?"
Dorian's laugh held no humor. "Why Oak, I believe you're jealous."
"Concerned," Oakley corrected, his voice steady despite the obvious tension radiating from his body. "Changing objectives mid-operation creates strategic vulnerabilities."
"A fair point," I acknowledged, stepping into the mediator role that maintained pack stability. "If we're shifting from elimination to acquisition, tactics require significant adjustment."
Dorian rose again, moving to stand before the fireplace, his silhouette outlined in dancing flames that cast shifting shadowsacross the room. "The theater outing will be a test. Let's observe how she responds to direct Alpha dominance in an uncontrolled environment. Then we can determine appropriate next steps."
A soft knock at the door interrupted our discussion before I could respond. Mrs. Holloway, the discrete housekeeper who maintained both the property and our secrets, appeared in the doorway with professional invisibility.
"Dinner is served in the study, gentlemen, as requested."
"Thank you," Dorian said, his manner shifting seamlessly from pack Alpha to gracious host. "We'll be down momentarily."
As she withdrew, Dorian turned back to us with a smile that didn't reach his eyes but carried promises I found both intriguing and concerning.
"We'll continue this discussion after dinner," he said, his gaze settling on Oakley with unmistakable intent. "I believe someone needs a reminder about pack hierarchy and the benefits of... loyalty."
Laterthatevening,Istood on the balcony outside my private suite, watching November moonlight filter through bare branches while the sounds from Dorian's wing of the house gradually intensified. The pack house's solid construction muffled most noise, but Alpha vocalizations during dominance assertion carried particular resonance.
My phone vibrated with an encrypted message from one of my campus informants, and I smiled at the attached surveillance photo. Vespera Levine leaving the library at nearly midnight, exhaustion evident in her posture despite the grainy quality of the night-vision image.
Still maintaining regular schedule. No signs of heat approach. Continuing observation.
My network of paid informants across campus provided data that even Dorian didn't know I collected. I'd been monitoring Vespera's biological patterns since September, waiting for the inevitable stress-induced heat cycle that sustained Alpha harassment typically triggered in Omegas.
So far, she'd proven remarkably resistant, maintaining normal cycles despite our campaign. But the theater confrontation might provide sufficient additional stress to push her biology past its adaptive limits.
And when that happened, all of Dorian's careful psychological manipulation would become irrelevant in the face of biological imperative.