Page 105 of His Drama Queen


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It doesn't look like a hostage situation. It looks like a pack house on a lazy Sunday morning.

"You called the cops," I repeat slowly. "To rescue me."

"Yes!" Stephanie finds her voice. "Vespera, I know you might be—I mean, the heat and the bonds and everything—but you don't have to stay here. You don't have to—"

"I'm making French toast," I interrupt. "Do you want some or not?"

They stare at me.

"I..." Stephanie's voice is small. "What?"

"French toast. It's almost done. Oakley makes the best bacon. There's coffee. You drove three hours to get here, you might as well eat." I step aside, gesturing them in. "Unless you'd rather wait in the car for the police you called to arrive at the house where I'm clearly being held against my will while making breakfast."

Robbie and Stephanie exchange a look. Then, slowly, they step inside.

The Alphas tense. Dorian moves closer to me, positioning himself between me and the "intruders." Oakley's hand is still on the spatula, but his muscles are coiled. Corvus has set down his tablet, attention focused with predatory precision.

"Easy," I murmur, loud enough for them to hear. "They're friends. Not threats."

"Are they?" Dorian's voice is cold. "Because it sounds like they're here to take you away."

"Theythinkthey are." I move past him into the kitchen, leaving Stephanie and Robbie standing awkwardly in the entryway. "Oakley, can you set two more places?"

"Of course." He moves to comply, and Robbie's eyes widen at the easy obedience.

"Everyone sit," I say, gesturing to the table. "This is going to be awkward enough without everyone standing around looking ready to fight."

Stephanie and Robbie sit carefully, like they're afraid the chairs might explode. The Alphas arrange themselves around me—Dorian to my right, Oakley bringing plates, Corvus directly across where he can watch our "guests."

"So," I say, pouring coffee into two mugs and sliding them across the table. "You tracked us down, drove three hours, and called the police because...?"

"Because you were kidnapped!" Stephanie bursts out. "Because they took you from Columbus and we didn't hear from you for weeks and—" She stops, looking at me more carefully. "Why are you so calm?"

"Because I'm fine."

"You were kidnapped," Robbie says slowly, like I'm not understanding. "They chloroformed you in an alley. Threw you in a van. Brought you here against your will."

"Yes, that happened." I take a sip of my coffee. "Six weeks ago."

"And you're okay with that now?" Stephanie's voice rises. "Vespera, this is Stockholm syndrome. You're bonded to them, you went through a heat with them, your brain is telling you this is fine when it's not—"

"Don't." The word comes out sharp enough that she flinches. "Don't tell me what my brain is doing. Don't tell me what I'm feeling. And don't assume you understand what's happened here."

"Then explain it to us," Robbie says quietly. His eyes are on Dorian, assessing, clearly seeing the claim marks on his neck. "Because from where we're sitting, this looks like three Alphas who traumatized you so badly that you rejected their bonds, then kidnapped you when you tried to escape, and now you're wearing their clothes and making them breakfast."

"She's not making us breakfast," Oakley says quietly, setting down a plate of bacon. "I am. She's supervising."

"Jesus Christ," Stephanie mutters. "This is so fucked up."

"You want to know what's fucked up?" I lean forward. "What's fucked up is that when they were hunting me on campus, when I was terrified and sick and didn't know who to trust, my best friend abandoned me because it was too socially inconvenient to be seen with the scholarship Omega being targeted by the golden boys."

Stephanie goes pale. "Vespera—"

"What's fucked up," I continue, "is that you didn't answer my calls. Didn't return my texts. Made it clear that your sorority connections were more important than ten years of friendship. And now you show up here with a tire iron and a rescue plan after the hard part is over?"

"I know," she whispers. "I know, and I'm so sorry. That's why we're here. I was a coward when you needed me, so I thought—I thought I could make up for it by being brave now."

"By rescuing me from a situation that doesn't exist anymore?"