Page 51 of The Drama King

"Ms. Shaw left early," De Scarzis replied, consulting her clipboard. "Some family emergency. She signed out during intermission."

So it was true. They had successfully isolated me.

"The buses will depart in twenty minutes," De Scarzis continued, already moving on to the next student. "Don't be late."

Twenty minutes. I needed to find Stephanie and get on that bus before the pack could implement whatever they had planned. Pushing through the revolving door, I stepped out into the rainy night, the temperature having dropped significantly during the performance.

The street was busy with departing theatergoers and evening traffic, taxi lights glinting off wet pavement as they pulled up to collect passengers. Our charter buses were parked half a block down, barely visible through the rain.

I pulled my coat tighter and started walking, trying to project confidence I didn't feel. The sidewalk was crowded enough that I felt relatively safe. Surely they wouldn't attempt anything with so many witnesses around.

I was wrong.

I'd made it halfway to the buses when a sleek black Aston Martin pulled up alongside the curb, its tinted window rolling down to reveal Dorian in the driver's seat.

"Need a ride, Vespera?" he called, his voice carrying despite the traffic noise. "Your friend already left with the first bus. This one's just for equipment transport."

I glanced toward the buses, noticing for the first time that one was indeed pulling away from the curb, while the other's cargo bay was open as tech crew loaded production equipment. A perfect lie. Plausible enough that I might have believed it if I hadn't been expecting some kind of trap.

"I'll wait for the second bus," I replied, continuing to walk.

Dorian's car rolled forward, keeping pace with me. "It could be an hour before they finish loading. And the rain's getting worse."

As if on cue, the drizzle intensified into a proper downpour, soaking through my inadequate coat within seconds. I picked up my pace, painfully aware of how I must look. A drowned scholarship student refusing help from the wealthy Alpha who could solve her immediate problem with the turn of a key.

I was so focused on Dorian that I almost collided with Corvus and Oakley, who had materialized on the sidewalk ahead of me, effectively cutting off my path to the buses. They stood under a large black umbrella, dry and imposing in their expensive suits.

"This is becoming rather dramatic," Corvus observed, his tone conversational despite the predatory intent radiating from his posture. "We're simply offering you a ride back to campus, Vespera. No need for all this... resistance."

I stopped, trapped between the car and the Alphas, calculating my options. The street was still busy, but the rain had driven most pedestrians to shelter, leaving the sidewalk increasingly empty. I could try to push past them, but three against one were terrible odds. I could scream, draw attention, make a scene—butthen what? The fallout would be on me, the hysterical Omega causing trouble.

"What do you want?" I asked finally, rain streaming down my face, plastering my hair to my skull.

"Just a conversation," Dorian replied from behind me. "Without institutional constraints or witnesses."

"And if I say no?"

Dorian's laugh was soft and dangerous. "Then you walk back to campus in the rain. It's only five miles. Of course, your attendance credit might be jeopardized if you don't return with the department transport."

Another trap. Of course they'd thought of everything. My scholarship required perfect attendance for all mandatory events—including proper arrival and departure procedures.

"Fine," I said, the word tasting like defeat. "But just a ride. Nothing else."

Corvus smiled, as if I'd said something amusing. "Of course. Just a ride."

He opened the rear door of the Aston Martin with a flourish, gesturing for me to enter. Every instinct screamed that this was a mistake, but my options were rapidly diminishing along with potential witnesses.

I slid into the back seat, immediately pressing myself against the far door, creating as much distance as possible between myself and whoever would join me. To my surprise, Oakley slipped in beside me while Corvus took the front passenger seat. The door locks engaged with an ominous click as Dorian pulled smoothly away from the curb.

"Wasn't the production fascinating?" Corvus asked, turning slightly to address me. "Webster's exploration of power dynamics and forbidden desire is remarkably relevant, even centuries later."

The casual conversation was so incongruous with the menace radiating from him that I almost laughed. "Particularly the scenes of psychological torture and unjust punishment," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. "Very educational."

Oakley shifted beside me, his cedar scent carrying notes of... was that discomfort? I glanced at him to find his expression unreadable, but his posture was rigid, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

"Indeed," Dorian agreed, his eyes finding mine in the rearview mirror. "Though I found the Duchess herself most compelling. Her refusal to accept her place in the established order, her defiance of those who knew what was best for her. A tragic flaw that led directly to her downfall."

The parallel was so heavy-handed I would have rolled my eyes if I weren't genuinely afraid. "She was punished for exercising autonomy over her own body," I countered. "For refusing to let her brothers control her sexuality and her choices."