Page 27 of The Drama King (The University Players Duet #1)

With practiced movements, I pressed the emergency SOS button through my coat pocket. Three rapid clicks that would send my location to Stephanie's phone along with a preset help message. Whether she'd receive it in time was another question entirely.

"I have to be back on campus by eleven," I said, trying to buy time. "Curfew for scholarship students."

"We're well aware of your restrictions," Corvus said, his tone suggesting he found them amusing. "Don't worry, we'll have you back in time to maintain your perfect record. We wouldn't want to jeopardize your... academic standing."

The car pulled into what appeared to be an abandoned parking lot behind a shuttered warehouse, the windows dark and many broken, graffiti covering the lower walls.

The rain drummed on the roof of the car as Dorian cut the engine, plunging us into relative silence broken only by the sound of our breathing.

"Why are we here?" I asked, unable to keep the tremor from my voice now.

"Privacy," Dorian replied, turning in his seat to face me fully. "You've been very successful at evading us on campus, Vespera. Always surrounded by witnesses, always in protected spaces. It's made our conversations... limited."

"There's nothing to discuss," I said, my hand moving to the door handle even though I knew it was locked. "You've made your position clear from day one. You want me gone, and I refuse to leave."

"Oh, I think there's plenty to discuss," Dorian countered, his smile predatory in the dim light. "Starting with your recent success in the showcase and what it means for your future at Northwood."

Something in his tone made me pause. This wasn't going the direction I'd expected.

"Your Lady Macbeth was... compelling," he continued, watching me with unnerving intensity. "Raw talent that most of your peers can only dream of possessing. It would be a shame to waste it."

"I'm not leaving Northwood," I repeated, my voice steadier now. "No matter what you do."

"Who said anything about leaving?" Corvus interjected, his analytical gaze dissecting my every reaction. "We're simply discussing your place in the department hierarchy. The natural order of things."

Dorian's eyes never left mine. "You've proven yourself exceptional, Vespera. But exceptional doesn't mean exempt from designation realities."

"What he means," Oakley said, speaking for the first time since entering the car, "is that your talent has... complicated matters."

I glanced between them, trying to understand what they were saying beneath the surface. "Complicated how?"

"You weren't supposed to be this good," Dorian said bluntly. "Scholarship Omegas typically break under pressure, transfer out, fade into obscurity. You're... different."

"And difference requires adjustment," Corvus added, his clinical tone at odds with the predatory gleam in his eyes. "A recalibration of approach."

My SOS should have reached Stephanie by now, assuming she had service. Whether she could do anything about it was another question entirely. I needed to keep them talking, buy time.

"What kind of adjustment?"

Dorian's smile widened. "The kind that acknowledges your potential while ensuring you understand your place. The showcase proved you have genuine talent. The Beatrice casting confirms it. But talent doesn't change what you are. An Omega in an Alpha world."

He reached across the center console, and for one terrifying moment I thought he was going to touch me. Instead, he flipped open a small compartment and removed what looked like a thin silver bracelet.

"A gift," he said, holding it out. "A token of our... revised approach."

I stared at the bracelet without taking it. "What is that?"

"A designation tracker," Corvus explained, as if discussing the weather. "Subtle enough to be mistaken for jewelry, sophisticated enough to monitor your designation signals, location, and proximity to authorized Alphas."

Horror washed through me. "You can't be serious."

"Entirely," Dorian replied. "You've earned your place at Northwood, Vespera. We're acknowledging that. But that place comes with... parameters."

"This is insane," I said, pressing back against the door. "I'm not wearing a tracking device like some kind of pet."

"You misunderstand," Corvus said smoothly. "This isn't a request. It's the condition of your continued success at Northwood. Wear it, and you'll find doors opening that were previously closed to you. Refuse..."

The threat hung in the air, unmistakable despite being unspoken.

"I won't do it," I said, anger finally overtaking fear. "You can't force me to wear that thing."

"Can't we?" Dorian's expression darkened, his Alpha presence flooding the confined space of the car, heavy with dominance pheromones designed to trigger submission in Omegas.

I fought against the biological response, my body trembling with the effort to resist. "No. You can't. Not without crossing lines that even you won't risk."

A strange expression flickered across Dorian's face. Something almost like respect beneath the fury. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cold determination.

"Oakley," he said, not taking his eyes off me. "Convince her."

Oakley tensed beside me, his cedar scent sharpening with what seemed like genuine conflict. "Dorian, I don't think—"

"That wasn't a suggestion," Dorian cut him off, his voice laced with Alpha command. "Hold her."

Time seemed to slow as Oakley moved, his hands capturing my wrists with surprising gentleness despite the strength behind his grip. I struggled against him, but the confined space of the backseat gave me no leverage.

"Stop fighting," he murmured, his voice so low I barely caught the words. "You'll only make it worse."

Dorian exited the driver's seat and opened the rear door, sliding in beside me so that I was trapped between the two Alphas. His sandalwood scent overwhelmed the small space, making it difficult to breathe through the panic rising in my throat.

"This can be easy or difficult," he said, dangling the silver bracelet before me. "Your choice."

"Get away from me," I spat, twisting against Oakley's grip.

Dorian's smile was all predator. "Difficult, then. I was hoping you'd say that."

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat in a grip just tight enough to demonstrate control without cutting off my air. The shock of it froze me in place, my body's instinctive response to Alpha aggression overriding conscious resistance.

"Now," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Let's try this again."

The silver bracelet gleamed in his free hand as he brought it toward my wrist. I renewed my struggles, kicking out with both feet, connecting with the back of the driver's seat hard enough to rock the car.

"Hold her properly," Corvus snapped from the front seat, turning to watch with clinical interest. "She's stronger than she looks."

Oakley's grip tightened, but there was hesitation in his movements, his cedar scent now unmistakably laced with discomfort. "Dorian, this is crossing a line. We agreed to talk to her, not—"

"Circumstances change," Dorian growled, his fingers tightening around my throat as he tried to maneuver the bracelet with his other hand. "She needs to understand what's at stake."

The pressure on my throat increased, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.

Primal terror overtook rational thought, my body going into full fight-or-flight mode.

With strength born of desperation, I wrenched one hand free from Oakley's grip and clawed at Dorian's face, my nails catching his cheek and drawing blood.

He jerked back with a curse, releasing my throat. I gasped for air, coughing as my lungs burned with the sudden rush of oxygen.

"You little bitch," he snarled, touching his cheek and staring at the blood on his fingers with shocked fury.

I used his momentary distraction to jam my elbow into Oakley's ribs, hard enough to make him loosen his grip. In the same motion, I lunged for the door handle, yanking it upward with desperate strength.

The door flew open, and I tumbled backward onto the wet pavement, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Rain poured down as I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline dulling the pain of my scraped palms and bruised shoulder.

"Vespera!" Dorian's voice carried over the sound of the rain as he emerged from the car. "Stop this nonsense right now!"

I was already running, my wet shoes slipping on the cracked pavement as I headed for the street. Behind me, I heard car doors slamming and the sound of pursuit. Multiple sets of footsteps splashing through puddles.

The abandoned parking lot seemed endless, stretching into darkness beyond the reach of the sparse streetlights. My lungs burned, my throat ached from Dorian's grip, but terror drove me forward through the rain.

I had almost reached the street when headlights swept across the entrance to the lot, momentarily blinding me. I skidded to a halt, heart sinking at the thought of another obstacle, another trap.

The car screeched to a stop, and the driver's door flew open. "Vespera!" Stephanie's voice, frantic with worry. "Get in!"

Relief hit me like a physical force as I recognized her battered Honda. I sprinted the remaining distance and flung myself into the passenger seat just as Dorian and Corvus emerged from the shadows.

"Drive!" I gasped, slamming the door. "Go!"

Stephanie hit the accelerator before I'd even fastened my seatbelt, the car fishtailing slightly on the wet pavement before finding traction. Through the rear window, I caught a glimpse of Dorian's face, contorted with fury as we sped away.

"What the fuck happened?" Stephanie demanded, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. "I got your SOS and called Robbie. He tracked Dorian's car through some hacker thing he won't explain. And Jesus, Ves, you're bleeding!"

I touched my throat, my fingers coming away with a smear of blood where Dorian's nails had broken the skin. "They tried to put a tracker on me," I said, my voice raspy from the assault. "A designation tracker disguised as jewelry."

"A what?" Stephanie's face paled in the dashboard lights. "That's... that's beyond fucked up. That's illegal."

"So is assault," I said, my hands still shaking as I fumbled with the seatbelt. "But that didn't stop them."

Stephanie took a hard right turn, putting more distance between us and the parking lot. "We need to report this. Like, right now. This isn't just harassment anymore, Ves. This is criminal."

I leaned back against the headrest, exhaustion crashing over me as the adrenaline began to fade. "They'll deny everything. It's three of them against me, and they have connections throughout the administration."

"You have physical evidence," she pointed out, gesturing to my throat. "And witnesses. Me and Robbie, we can testify about the pattern of harassment."

I closed my eyes, too drained to argue. She was right. This had escalated beyond academic bullying into something that couldn't be ignored. But the thought of facing an administration that had systematically overlooked designation-based harassment for decades made my stomach knot with dread.

"Where are we going?" I asked, suddenly realizing we weren't heading toward campus.

"My parents' house," Stephanie replied, her tone brooking no argument. "It's closer, and you need somewhere safe tonight. I already texted Robbie. He's meeting us there with a first aid kit and his laptop. We're documenting everything while it's fresh."

I should have protested, should have insisted on returning to campus to maintain my perfect attendance record. But the thought of being somewhere the Alphas couldn't reach me, even for one night, was too tempting to resist.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "If you hadn't shown up..."

"Don't," Stephanie said fiercely. "Don't even think about what might have happened. You fought back. You got away. That's what matters."

As we drove through the rainy night, putting distance between ourselves and the Ashworth pack, I touched my throat again, feeling the sting of broken skin beneath my fingers. Tonight had changed everything. Lines had been crossed that couldn't be uncrossed, threats had become physical reality.

And somewhere beneath the fear and exhaustion, something else was taking root.

A cold, clear determination. They had shown their true colors, revealed the depths they were willing to sink to maintain control.

But they had also revealed something else.

A weakness I hadn't fully understood until tonight.

They wanted me. Not gone, not broken, but controlled. Owned. And that revelation gave me a power I hadn't possessed before. The knowledge that my talent had made me valuable enough to change their tactics, to make them take risks they would normally avoid.