"Yeah." I burrow against his chest, my purr returning as contentment replaces the desperate need. "Thank you."
"Nothing to thank me for." He pulls the covers over us both, one hand resuming its gentle stroke through my hair. "Taking care of you isn't a favor, little star. It's a privilege."
"That's it," he encourages, his cedar scent wrapping around us both. "Let it out. Let me hear how safe you feel."
I burrow closer, tucking my face against his neck where his scent is strongest. My purrs become almost musical, a sound of pure contentment that I haven't made since before everything fell apart with Dorian.
"I've got you," Oakley murmurs, holding me tighter. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter what Dorian decides, you have me. You'll always have me."
The promise should scare me. Should feel like too much. But instead it feels like the first solid ground I've stood on in days.
I fall asleep like that—wrapped in Alpha arms, purring softly, my bare chest pressed against his. Safe. Wanted. Cared for.
Even if Dorian doesn't choose me, at least someone does.
Iwaketomyphone buzzing insistently. Early—barely past six AM.
Stephanie:CAST LIST IS UP EARLY. CHECK NOW. VESPERA OMG CHECK NOW.
I'm still wrapped in Oakley's arms, his breathing slow and steady against my hair. I fumble for my laptop on his nightstand, careful not to wake him, pulling up the theater department website with shaking hands.
HEDDA GABLER - FALL SHOWCASE CAST
Hedda Tesman: Vespera Levine Eilert Løvborg: Ben Rosen
I got it.
I actually got it.
The lead role. The showcase that could define my career. Broadway scouts in the audience. Everything I've worked for since I was fourteen years old.
And all I feel is empty.
Because Dorian should be the first person I tell. Should be here celebrating with me. Should care that this is the biggest thing of my college career.
Instead, he's locked in his room, drinking his father's scotch and treating me like I don't exist.
Oakley stirs beside me. "What is it?"
"I got Hedda." I show him the screen, and his face lights up in a way that makes my chest ache.
"Vespera, that's amazing!" He pulls me into a hug, genuine and warm and everything Dorian should be. "I'm so proud of you. This is huge."
"Thanks." I return the hug, trying to feel something other than hollow.
"We should celebrate. Wake Corvus, make a huge breakfast, do something special—"
"No." I pull back. "I mean, yes, we can tell Corvus. But no celebration. Not with Dorian like this. Not when he won't even look at me."
Oakley's expression shifts—understanding mixed with frustration. "He'd want you to celebrate—"
"Would he?" I meet his eyes. "Because I don't think he'd even notice. I don't think he'd care at all."
Oakley doesn't argue. Can't argue. Because we both know I'm right.
I get dressed in yesterday's clothes, splash water on my face in Oakley's bathroom, and head downstairs. Corvus is already up, coffee in hand, and when he sees my expression he raises an eyebrow.
"You got it," he says. Not a question.
