Chapter 8: Extra 2

As Rhys walked away from Dorian, his usual easy grin stayed firmly in place, but inside, his thoughts were anything but casual.

That had been close. Too close.

He'd been playing this game for days now, teasing Dorian, pushing his buttons, seeing how far he could get under that cool, composed surface. From the moment they met—when he'd crashed into the Alpha in more ways than one—he'd found it amusing to rattle the student council president. Dorian was the perfect target, after all: always so serious, always so concerned with perfection, with control.

And Rhys? Well, he'd always loved disrupting the status quo.

At first, his plan had been simple. Toy with the Alpha. Throw Dorian off his game, mess with his rigid view of the world, and have a little fun while doing it. Rhys had never intended for it to be anything more than that—a harmless way to pass the time while he figured out where he fit into this elite school full of power-hungry Alphas and prim, rule-following Betas.

But now... now things were different.

Rhys exhaled softly, his footsteps slow as he made his way through the quiet corridors of the academy. His heart still beat a little faster than usual, his body still buzzing with the closeness of that moment backstage. He hadn't expected it—hadn't expected Dorian to get so close, hadn't expected his own body to react the way it did.

It had started out as a game, but now? Now, it was something else entirely.

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a low chuckle as he replayed the scene in his mind. He'd almost kissed him. Hell, they had both almost crossed that line. And for the first time in a long while, Rhys wasn't sure what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted.

He hadn't planned on feeling this way—not about Dorian, of all people.

When he first arrived at Haleworth, Dorian had represented everything Rhys wanted to rebel against. He was the perfect Alpha—cold, commanding, untouchable. Exactly the kind of person Rhys had spent his life resenting. Alphas like Dorian were supposed to be the enemy, the ones who thought they owned the world just because of what they were born as.

But then he got to know him.

Dorian wasn't like the other Alphas Rhys had dealt with in the past. Beneath all that control and authority, there was something else—something vulnerable, something that pulled Rhys in despite himself. Dorian wasn't just playing the role of the perfect Alpha because he wanted to. He was stuck in it, trapped by the expectations of his family, his school, his entire world.

And that made things... complicated.

Rhys leaned against the wall, staring out at the darkening sky beyond the academy windows. He'd started out wanting to toy with Dorian, wanting to make the almighty student council president squirm. But now? Now he wasn't so sure what he wanted.

It wasn't just about messing with Dorian anymore. Somewhere along the way, the game had changed.

Rhys found himself drawn to the Alpha in a way that he hadn't anticipated. The more time he spent with him, the more he realized just how much Dorian kept hidden beneath that perfect, untouchable exterior. The way his eyes sometimes softened when he thought no one was looking. The brief flashes of uncertainty that crossed his face when his guard slipped. The weight of responsibility that pressed down on him, even when he was trying so hard to appear in control.

Dorian wasn't just another Alpha for Rhys to provoke. He was... more than that.

Rhys chuckled again, though this time the sound was quieter, almost bitter. He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to feel anything for Dorian beyond amusement, beyond curiosity. But somewhere along the line, it had stopped being about toying with the Alpha, and started being about something else—something that made Rhys' chest tighten in a way that he wasn't ready to deal with.

Damn it.

This wasn't what he had planned. He wasn't supposed to care about Dorian—not like this. He wasn't supposed to find himself thinking about him long after their encounters ended, wondering what it would be like to break through that armor and see the real Dorian underneath.

But he couldn't deny it anymore. The way his heart had raced when they stood so close, the heat that had surged through him when their lips had almost touched—those weren't the feelings of someone just playing a game.

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. He hadn't wanted to cross that line, but now, standing here in the aftermath of that almost-kiss, he realized that he might have already crossed it without even realizing it.

The problem was, he didn't know where that left him—or where it left Dorian.

With one last glance out the window, Rhys pushed off the wall and headed down the hallway. He didn't know what came next. He wasn't even sure how he felt about it. But one thing was certain: the game had changed. And now, whether he liked it or not, Dorian had become something more than just a target for his amusement.

Rhys didn't know what he wanted from the Alpha anymore, but he was starting to realize that maybe—just maybe—he wanted to figure it out.