Page 2 of The Drama King (The University Players Duet #1)

She pulled out her phone, showing me a screenshot from the university website.

Three devastatingly handsome young men in formal wear, arms around each other at some gala event.

Even in a still photograph, their presence was commanding.

They had stepped off a magazine cover, all sharp jawlines and confident smiles.

"The last scholarship Omega lasted one semester," Stephanie continued. "Officially, she transferred for 'family reasons,' but word is they made her life hell until she broke."

My hands stilled on my unpacking. "They target Omega scholarship students specifically?"

"It's like some kind of twisted game to them.

They pick one, usually someone they see as competition for roles or attention.

Then they systematically destroy their confidence until they leave.

" Her expression darkened. "The faculty either don't see it or don't care, because the Ashworth family could buy and sell this entire university. "

Fear threaded through my excitement, but I pushed it down. I hadn't fought my way to Northwood to be scared off by entitled bullies, no matter how handsome or well-connected they were.

"Well, they'll find I'm not that easy to intimidate," I said with more conviction than I felt.

Stephanie looked skeptical but nodded. "Stay close to me, okay? And there's this guy Robbie Gao. He's an Omega junior, but his parents own Gao Pharmaceutical, so the pack can't touch him. We could introduce you."

I nodded.

"Robbie's a good ally to have," she continued, pulling out textbooks. "His family has board connections, and he's sweet as hell. The pack learned early not to mess with kids whose parents could destroy their futures with a phone call."

The implication was clear. I had no such protection. My father's community theater connections wouldn't matter here. I was truly on my own.

By evening, I'd completed my room setup and reviewed my class schedule. Acting Technique with Professor Blackwell started at nine AM, my first real test. According to my course roster, all three pack members were in this class, too. Apparently mixed-year classes were common here. Great.

The mandatory welcome dinner was held in the grand dining hall, a cathedral to privilege with soaring ceilings, stained glass windows, and long tables of polished mahogany.

Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over students clustered by obvious social hierarchies.

The loudest, most central table held a group of upperclassmen Alphas whose confident laughter carried across the room.

"That's them," Stephanie murmured as we found seats with other first-years at a table near the back. "Dorian's pack."

My eyes followed her subtle gesture to where three young men held court like royalty.

Even from a distance, their presence was magnetic.

All Alphas carried inherent authority, but these three amplified each other, creating a gravitational pull that affected everyone nearby.

They possessed the confident assurance of established campus royalty, not uncertain freshmen still finding their place.

Dorian Ashworth sat in the center like a king.

He was heartbreakingly beautiful in the classical sense: dark hair falling in perfect waves, aristocratic features that belonged on a Renaissance sculpture, and a lazy smile that suggested he was accustomed to worship.

Those ice-blue eyes surveyed the room with casual authority.

His uniform had the cut and drape of bespoke designer wear despite being identical to everyone else's, and he'd styled it with calculated rebellion.

Loosened tie, one shirt button undone, rule-breaking that no one would dare challenge.

"The strategic one is Corvus," Stephanie whispered, nodding toward the pale-eyed Alpha. "He's the planner. Oakley's supposed to be the 'nice' one, but that means he smiles while destroying you."

To his left sat a leaner, sharper-featured Alpha whose pale eyes calculated and cataloged everything around him.

Corvus Barclay wore his uniform perfectly, every line crisp, his tie knotted with mathematical precision.

Even relaxed, he radiated the cold intelligence of someone who treated social interaction like chess.

The third member was broader and golden-haired, with the kind of easy charm that drew people in like moths to flame.

Oakley Sinclair had rolled his sleeves to reveal tanned forearms, another small rebellion that had the naturalness of effortless confidence and ease.

His smile had genuine warmth, which somehow made him more dangerous than the others.

I tried not to stare, but something about Dorian kept drawing my attention. As if sensing my gaze, he suddenly glanced up, his blue eyes locking with mine across the crowded room.

The jolt was physical, a shock of recognition that shot straight through me. Heat flooded through my body, and my carefully applied scent blockers felt suddenly inadequate. His nostrils flared slightly, confirming my fear that despite my chemical camouflage, he'd caught my natural scent.

His perfect features shifted. Surprise, followed by intense interest. His lips curved into a smile that contained no warmth, only predatory focus. It was the expression of someone who'd found exactly what they'd been hunting for.

I forced myself to look away, like a good Omega, heart hammering against my ribs. My body's reaction confused and angered me. I'd been around attractive Alphas before without this visceral response. What was it about him that bypassed all my defenses?

"Oh shit," Stephanie breathed beside me. "He's noticed you."

"Is that necessarily bad?" I asked, though my instincts were already screaming warnings.

"I've never seen Dorian study anyone like that unless he planned to destroy them," she replied grimly. "One way or another."

The dean's welcome speech began then, drawing everyone's attention forward, but I could still feel that dark gaze like a physical touch against my skin.

When I dared another glance, all three pack members were watching me with varying expressions of interest. Corvus studied me with clinical fascination, as if I were a specimen under glass.

Oakley's gaze held curiosity and anticipation.

Dorian's ice-blue eyes burned with unmistakable hunger.

They were speaking in low voices now, heads bent in conspiracy. I couldn't hear the words, but their body language told me everything I needed to know.

I'd been marked.

Selected.

Targeted.

The dean's voice became white noise as real fear crept up my spine.

I'd come to Northwood with such clear goals: excel academically, showcase my talent, build the connections that would launch my professional career.

Nothing in that carefully constructed plan accounted for becoming the obsession of an Alpha pack who treated scholarship students like prey.

I lifted my chin slightly, meeting Dorian's stare directly. I wouldn't be intimidated on my first day, wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. Whatever twisted game he and his friends played with Omega scholarship recipients, they'd find I wasn't the easy victim they expected.

His eyebrows rose fractionally at my defiance. Was it surprise, perhaps even grudging respect, that flickered across his perfect features? Then his smile widened, showing teeth that looked unnaturally sharp in the chandelier light.

It wasn't respect, I realized with a sinking feeling. It was anticipation. The pleasure of a predator who appreciates when prey shows spirit. It would make the hunt more entertaining.

Dorian said something that made Corvus nod with cold approval while Oakley shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Whatever strategy they were planning, it was clear that my defiance had only increased their interest rather than deterring it.

The dean finished her speech about Northwood's illustrious history and promising future, but her words had become meaningless background noise. My entire world had narrowed to the three predators across the room and the terrifying certainty that tomorrow would bring my first real test of survival.

I pulled out my class schedule with trembling fingers, scanning tomorrow's lineup. "Acting Technique with Professor Blackwell at nine AM," I muttered.

Stephanie glanced over. "Oh, that's one of the mixed-level courses."

My stomach dropped. "They'll be there, won't they? All three of them."

She winced. "Of course they will. They're theater majors too, and that's a core requirement. The administration seems to think multi-year courses will improve morale.” She air quoted.

The satisfied smirk on Dorian's face suddenly made more sense. He already knew exactly where he'd find me tomorrow morning: trapped in the same classroom, with nowhere to run and no protection from faculty who owed their positions to his family's generosity.

I squared my shoulders and adopted the posture I used when stepping onto stage for the most challenging roles. I might be terrified, but I'd be damned if I'd let him see it.

If Dorian Ashworth wanted to play games with the scholarship Omega, he'd discover I wasn't the helpless victim his pack had grown accustomed to hunting. I'd fought too hard to get here to be driven out by the first entitled Alpha who decided I was his new toy.

This was my stage too, and I fully intended to give the performance of my life.

The only question was whether I'd survive long enough to take my bow.