Page 13 of The Drama King (The University Players Duet #1)

nine

Corvus

The campus settled into October's rhythm after the intensity of midterm week, autumn's chill replacing summer's last warmth.

The post-midterm period brought its own particular energy to Northwood.

A mixture of relief from those who'd performed well and growing anxiety from students whose grades hadn't met expectations.

I inhaled deeply from my position beneath the ancient oak, cataloging the chemosignals that permeated the quad: residual stress hormones from the evaluation period, the satisfied confidence of successful students, and that particular jasmine-sweet scent I'd been systematically tracking.

My black leather notebook lay open on my lap, pages organized with color-coded tabs.

Red for Vespera's class schedule, blue for her social patterns, green for biological observations.

Father's silver pen rested in my hand, engraved with the Barclay family motto: Scientia Potentia Est . Knowledge is power.

Unrelenting coordinated psychological warfare should have broken most scholarship Omegas by now.

Their sheltered existences rarely prepared them for what a properly motivated Alpha pack could inflict.

Yet here she was. Attending every class.

Completing every assignment. Enduring our calculated torment with that stubborn lift of her chin that I found increasingly. .. fascinating.

The scene study midterm had provided excellent data.

My tactical improvisation during the Crucible performance achieved the intended result.

Professor De Scarzis documented Vespera's "difficulty adapting to collaborative spontaneity" and "concerning inflexibility under pressure.

" The official record will prove invaluable during scholarship review.

More intriguingly, her response to the sabotage had been illuminating.

Rather than crumbling or becoming defensive, she'd maintained Elizabeth Proctor's dignity even while scrambling to adapt to my deviations.

Most targets would have broken character entirely, given the faculty obvious evidence of inadequate preparation.

Instead, she'd found ways to incorporate my improvised challenges into believable character choices.

Subject demonstrates above-average resilience to academic destabilization.

Midterm sabotage successful in creating institutional documentation of "professionalism concerns," but target's adaptive capabilities exceed initial projections.

Recommend escalation to more sophisticated psychological pressure vectors.

The library doors opened, and Vespera emerged with her arms full of theater history texts.

Her dirty blonde hair caught the late afternoon sunlight as she paused on the steps, shifting her heavy load to check her phone.

A small frown creased her forehead. Some message causing that microexpression of distress I'd learned.

Movement in my peripheral vision drew attention as Stephanie Shaw approached from the communications building.

The Beta roommate had proven unexpectedly problematic, refusing to be intimidated away from her friendship with our target.

I'd attempted subtle approaches first. Arranging prestigious opportunities that would separate them, making pointed comments about social consequences of associating with scholarship students.

She'd looked me directly in the eyes and told me to "fuck off with that classist bullshit."

Her resistance was almost admirable, from a purely analytical standpoint.

The two girls converged, Stephanie automatically taking some books from Vespera's arms. Their bond frustrated our isolation strategy. A variable I'd underestimated in my initial calculations.

"Any word from financial aid?" Stephanie asked, confirming my hypothesis about the source of Vespera's concern.

"Nothing yet," Vespera replied, anxiety carefully controlled in her voice. "But Professor De Scarzis wants to see me after tomorrow's class."

Interesting. De Scarzis's involvement hadn't been anticipated. The acting professor typically maintained professional distance from scholarship politics. I made a mental note to investigate this development through my usual administrative contacts.

Their conversation shifted to technical theater details as they moved toward the dormitories.

I observed how Vespera's shoulders gradually relaxed, her gestures becoming animated as she described some vision for the fall showcase.

The transformation triggered an unexpected neural response.

An anomaly in my cognitive patterns that required further analysis.

"Problems?"

I didn't flinch at Dorian's sudden appearance. Displays of surprise reveal weakness. Though my heart rate elevated slightly. I hadn't detected his approach, which was irritating. Environmental awareness is foundational to effective analysis.

"Observing," I replied, closing my notebook with practiced precision. "Our subject demonstrates unexpected adaptation to current pressure vectors. The timeline may require adjustment."

Dorian dropped onto the bench beside me, his presence reorganizing the quad's social hierarchy. Two passing Omegas altered their path, giving us wider berth, their fear-scent creating a barrier around us.

"She's not responding normally," he said, frustration evident beneath his controlled tone. His sandalwood scent carried unusual undercurrents. "In Voice and Movement today, she completely ignored my corrections. Not even a flinch."

I raised an eyebrow. That was statistically improbable. Most Omegas physically couldn't ignore direct Alpha criticism. Their autonomic nervous systems forced acknowledging responses.

"Professor Cruz's presence may have provided a sufficient buffer. Or..." I paused, considering alternative explanations. The data points were forming interesting patterns.

"Or what?" Dorian pressed.

"She may have natural resistance to Alpha pheromones. Rare, but documented in medical literature." I pulled out my tablet, accessing my files. "Her medical data shows several anomalies worth investigating."

Dorian leaned closer as I showed him the hormone analyses I'd constructed from various sources. Dr. Levinson's gambling debts had made him particularly cooperative in providing blood work results.

"Elevated testosterone for Omega classification, unusual cortisol regulation patterns, non-standard pheromone markers," I explained, highlighting the relevant sections. "These could explain her resilience to standard breaking techniques."

"You think she's misdesignated?"

"Unlikely. Her core markers are definitively Omega." I'd examined the data thoroughly using classification algorithms I'd developed during independent research. "More likely natural variation within phenotypical expression. Think of it as an opportunity to refine our methods."

Predictability had been boring me anyway. Vespera's resistance offered intellectual stimulation our previous targets had lacked.

"The scene study partnerships post tomorrow," Dorian said, his focus sharpening. "I've arranged the pairings."

My analytical circuits activated, processing tactical implications.

"Excellent. Forced proximity will increase psychological pressure while isolating her from support networks.

" I was already calculating complementary strategies.

"I'll coordinate with Oakley on technical theater requirements.

Between academic preparation and mandatory rehearsals, she'll have minimal recovery time. "

Dorian's expression altered. "Don't compromise her performance capabilities. I want her to fail on merit, not because we sabotaged her preparation."

The instruction disrupted my anticipated strategy tree. This deviated from established protocol, where comprehensive destruction—academic, social, psychological—was standard objective.

"You want her to perform well?" I asked, tone carefully neutral.

"I want to defeat her at her best," he clarified, though my microexpression analysis detected the probability of partial deception. "Breaking a weakened opponent proves nothing."

Fascinating. Dorian's typical methodology prioritized efficiency over sport. This shift toward seeking worthy opposition rather than convenient victory represented a significant behavioral anomaly.

"That approach has merit," I agreed, though privately I was recalculating success probabilities. "Academic failure achieved through legitimate means carries more institutional weight."

Before I could probe his motivations further, movement across the quad caught attention.

Robbie Gao approached Vespera and Stephanie, his black hair gleaming in afternoon light.

The male Omega triggered immediate physiological response.

Increased heart rate, tightened muscles, involuntary sharpening of my scent.

"Gao's integrating himself into her support system," I observed, redirecting focus to tactical considerations.

Dorian's scent spiked with bitter displeasure. "I see that."

"He's strategically valuable," I continued, mentally calculating relationship vectors.

"Family connections provide social insulation we can't easily penetrate.

His previous exposure to our methods offers her foreknowledge.

His involvement changes the equation," I said, highlighting relevant data points.

"But creates new vulnerabilities we can exploit. "

"Explain."

"If he's warned her about us, she's already primed to interpret neutral interactions negatively.

We can use that hypervigilance against her.

Establish expected patterns, then deviate unpredictably.

The inconsistency creates cognitive dissonance, forcing constant alertness that exhausts psychological resources. "

It was methodology I'd developed sophomore year, refined through multiple applications. The technique appeared in no standard psychological literature. My own innovation, intended for eventual publication once I had sufficient case studies.

Dorian nodded slowly, appreciation evident. "Gaslighting through expectation manipulation."

"Precisely." I felt familiar satisfaction at strategic elegance. The pure pleasure of perfect logical construction.

"I have a meeting with Professor Bray about showcase casting," Dorian said, standing and adjusting his cashmere scarf. "Coordinate with Oakley on technical angles. Full psychological assessment by tomorrow morning."

"Already in progress." I reopened my notebook to the green-tabbed section. Biological vulnerabilities and exploitation vectors. "I've identified several promising stress-response patterns."

I watched him stride away, drawing attention from everyone he passed. Only when he disappeared did I refocus on Vespera and her expanding protection network.

She was laughing at something Robbie had said, head tilted back, momentarily unguarded. The sound carried clearly. My hearing caught the specific patterns of genuine amusement. For a disconcerting moment, I found myself analyzing those patterns for aesthetic rather than tactical value.

I frowned at this neural aberration. Father's training echoed: "Emotional responses are data points, Corvus. Nothing more. Analyze them, catalog them, but never indulge them."

I realigned my thoughts, returning to systematic assessment. This subject requiring more sophisticated methods was merely an intellectual challenge. I would adapt approaches, refine models, and achieve intended outcomes.

Even still, I packed materials into my messenger bag, unwelcome questions lingered: Why was Dorian's scent changing whenever Vespera was nearby? And why was I experiencing these small but measurable lapses in analytical detachment?

These new feelings were frustratingly unscientific.