"However feels right to you." He reaches across the table, taking my hand. "But start by remembering that you're Vespera Levine. You got the lead in the showcase as a freshman. You survived their campaign of terror. You're extraordinary, with or without him."
My throat tightens. "When did you get so wise?"
"Getting systematically destroyed and then rebuilt teaches perspective." His smile is wry but genuine. "Use me as a cautionary tale. I let what happened define me for too long. Don't make the same mistake."
"I saw the cast list went up," he says, changing the subject. "Hedda Gabler. Lead role. Broadway scouts. That's huge, Vespera."
"Thanks." I manage a smile. "First rehearsal is this afternoon, actually."
"You're going to be an incredible Hedda," he says firmly. "Don't let Dorian's crisis dim that for you."
We talk for another hour—about classes, about the theater program, about his plans now that he's back. It's easy, comfortable, exactly what I needed.
As we're leaving, Robbie pulls me into another hug. "Text me anytime," he says. "I mean it. Three AM crisis? I'm there. Need someone to tell Dorian he's being an idiot? Also there."
"Thank you," I whisper. "For coming back. For not hating me."
"Never." He pulls back, serious. "You're my friend, Vespera. That doesn't change because of what they did to either of us."
Rehearsalisintenseinthe best way. De Scarzis runs us through the full first act, blocking every movement withprecision. Ben and I find our rhythm quickly—that same chemistry from callbacks amplified now that we're working in full character.
By the time rehearsal ends three hours later, I'm exhausted but energized. This is what I needed—to remember that I'm good at this. That I have value outside of being someone's omega.
I take my time walking back to the pack house, letting the cool evening air clear my head. By the time I arrive, Oakley's making dinner, Corvus is in his study, and Dorian's door is closed.
Same as always.
But something feels different in me. Lighter. More centered.
I have Robbie back. I have my role as Hedda. I have proof that I exist outside of this pack's dysfunction.
And maybe—maybe—that's enough to start demanding better.
I head upstairs, but instead of going to Oakley's room or my own, I stop outside Dorian's door.
For a long stretch, I stand there, listening to the silence on the other side. Then I knock.
No answer.
I knock again, harder. "Dorian. We need to talk."
Still nothing.
"Fine," I say to the closed door. "Keep hiding. But I'm done waiting for you to decide if I'm worth your time. When you're ready to actually show up, let me know. Until then, I have better things to do than beg for scraps of your attention."
I don't wait for a response. Turn and walk to my own room, closing the door firmly behind me.
My phone buzzes. Robbie.
Robbie:Proud of you. Whatever you just did, I'm proud of you.
I smile despite everything.
Me:How did you know I did something?
Robbie:Because I know you. Now get some sleep. You have a show to prepare for.
Me:Yes, sir.
