Stronger than Truth

by Dakila Reed

  Contents

  About the Book

  Copyright Page

  Stronger than (series)

  Title Page

  Title Page 2

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  About the Author

  Other Books

  Acknowledgments

  Notes

  Regem Wayne lost his fated omega early from the hands of brutality. Determined, he vows to use his strength and expertise in protecting and saving omegas in dire need of help.

  Sent to Sierra Via, a nonmember of the Allied Districts, omegas here are still bound to the twisted mentality that they are nothing but sex slaves and properties. Undercover as a security personnel for The Prey Ground, the largest sex brothel in the district, the last thing Wayne's expecting from his mission is to come face to face with a heartless, evil omega wearing a beautiful face.

  Liam— a rare male omega and The Prey Ground's manager— is the devil in disguise, torturing and humiliating his fellow omegas with menace no known omega has ever possessed.

  As Wayne gets into the mission, he hopes to see a glimpse of good and humanity in Liam, any proof that the man is just a pawn in this terrible game.

  But as time slips by, Wayne sees the chances are slim. He’s already seeing the evil truth.

  Or is there more to it that Wayne is missing?

  STRONGER THAN TRUTH

  (Stronger than #2)

  Copyright © Dakila Reed (October 2017)

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brand names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real events, places, persons and locales, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  * * * *

  Cover images:

  - Pixabay | Leandro de Carvalho -

  - LoboStudio.Hamburg -

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only.

  Cover font:

  Tangerine-Toshi Omagari | Tenderness-Dot Colon | Raleway-Pablo Impallari

  Cover design by Dakila Reed

  STRONGER THAN (series)

  Stronger than Fate #1

  Stronger than Truth #2

  Stronger than Perfection #3 (coming soon)

  ~

  Each book in this series can be read as a standalone.

  STRONGER

  THAN

  TRUTH

  Larri’s eyes were like the midnight blue. His lips hid the sun, his smiles always more radiant than sunshine. His voice was always bouncy, quirky. Like everything around him was so fascinating he couldn’t wait to share it with Regem.

  There were so many things Larri had planned to do. So many things Regem had wanted for them to do together. But there was Larri. Instead of their comfortable bed, smelling of mild berries, aftershaves, and their scents, Larri was there on a ceramic slab. His eyes would never open again. He would never smile again. He would never speak again.

  Regem stood there frozen. His heart was there on the slab. What the hell was he supposed to do next?

  His mind was reeling of so many things they turned blank and dark. His chest was aching. He was drowning. Yet even his tears refused to fall.

  A week ago he was in a small Asian country saving omegas from slavery. He extracted five minor female omegas from their ‘guardian’ while at the same moment, thousands and thousands of miles his own omega was being raped, murdered and left like nothing but a discarded rag.

  He dragged himself off the wall. It was as though he was dragging a boulder with each ankle. Every so little step he tried to make towards that gleaming, unfeeling slab was painful. He’d jumped into the middle of riots. Faced senseless rogues in secluded areas of the world. He’d seen most of the worst the world had to offer. Yet he’d never felt this kind of fear. Rippling, crippling, suffocating fear as he got closer and nearer to Larri— his friend, lover. His fated omega.

  Regem wandered his gaze into his fated’s face. And he couldn’t believe that this was real.

  “Larri?” he said, barely a whisper. He waited. He waited and waited and only the silence was his deafening response. “Larri…” He gritted his teeth. He looked up the clinical ceilings, not knowing what to pray. He took another step. And another. “How are we supposed to grow old together when you’re there?” he gently accused.

  He lifted a hand, hesitantly tracing the man’s cheek, the man’s once soft now pale chapped lips. His fated was so cold. Unmoving. Not breathing. He was very dead. That thought engraving, imprinting itself in Regem’s head had him growing weak. He gripped the sides of the slab, anchoring himself. He drew in deep breaths, air, anything. Until his knees gave out and a voiceless sob escaped Regem’s lips.

  He’d saved so many many lives. Yet he wasn’t there to protect the man who was his world. Such was the irony, so twisted, so sick that Regem was beginning to question his choices. Him being an agent of the Special Rescue force of the Allied Districts, even him as elite of the Shadow Corps… they suddenly all looked for nothing.

  “You can’t save all lives all the time,” Larri had told him once. “It’s just how it is.”

  “I’d give anything to get you back. I’d do anything to save you,” Regem groaned, misery coursing through him. “I can’t do this anymore…”

  “But you’re good at saving people. You’re made for it. I’m proud of what you do…”

  “It’s a frozen hell alright…”

  Regem Wayne blew out a puff of breath. It misted against the thick glass windows of the AD Bullet Train which he wiped lazily with his calloused palm. He then again stared and glared at the white hell from a distance. Who would have thought that such pristine and glittering whiteness of those snow covered ranges served as the cover for crimson blood and helpless tears? He frowned, removed his gaze from the outside and moved to look at his phone. He thumbed in his password, followed by his finger print and quickly scanned his last exchange with his faceless informant.

  The name on the screen only said ‘Sweetie’, in case some curious and nosy persons were making it their business to check who he was mailing with. Not that he had to worry about any pair of eyes at all since the train was practically empty. Except him and a couple sleeping about five meters away from him and a group of snoring youngsters even further, Wayne had the entire row for himself.

  He’d been building his cover for this assignment for nearly a year. With his application as security and muscle ten months ago, all the background checks he made to be water tight with his organization’s help, and with his final interview via video call, the last thing he needed to do was to haul himself into Sierra Via’s largest and most powerful brothel; The Prey Ground. It was the last yet the beginning of what he knew was going to be a grueling, sickening, and mentally exhausting assignment.

  From: Sweetie

  To: King

  Congrats in your acceptance to the company Honey~!!! Now we’re working together, although it’s shitty you’re in a different department. *Rips* Did you hear that? That’s my heart breaking! Miss you so much!

  Sorry f
or going off topic. Anyway, we could very well celebrate together but my job is keeping me here. Boss is an ass-wipe as usual.

  I don’t need to warn you about cheating behind my back darling, do I? Anyway, beware of Liam. While I have faith in your control with your huge alpha dick, Liam is a grade A slut. He’s the official bitch of my boss and runs almost everything omega-concerned.

  I attached a stolen photo of Liam in this message and I ask you not to be shocked. Don’t believe in his shell because he redefines asshole.

  I love you baby. Keep safe. Work hard. XD

  -Your Sweetie

  The message was as quirky and disgusting as usual. But it did the trick for them so he wasn’t complaining. The whole message could be summed up as all caps lock in red stating that Liam, a male omega, was the establishment’s manager too and has really really good brains in his skull. And while his informant had told him not to be shocked at the attachment photo, the first time he saw said manager’s face, he did a double take. Maybe a photo sent wrong. But Sweetie was a meticulous informant. There was just no way the man would send a random picture of a male. Not that there was anything random in the photo.

  Liam Bridges was a thirty-year-old male omega. A lean pale man, with bloody red lips, and a pair of intense eyes the color of premium seasoned whiskey. Rich, cunning amber. Even in the photo with a couple of hulking men trailing behind, it appeared that Liam was considerably taller than most male omegas. Even the fact that here was another male omega was becoming a little of nature’s fucked way for a coincidence. Male omegas were supposed to be rare so why the hell was he being thrown into more than one in just a year? First Skye, then Reece, now this sick in the head Liam.

  Wayne scowled at the photo, irritated at how the wind was actually being tame around the man’s jet black hair when the entire men behind him was being all ruffled. He even hated it more that the man’s intelligence showed through his eyes, glinting out of the snapshot. In the photo, Liam was smiling so sweetly at something. Like he was about to laugh but was trying hard not to.

  How a man who was very close to the hypnotic sculptures Wayne had seen back in Rome could be the manager of such a hideous business was almost unbelievable. Wayne knew not to judge by appearance but for an omega to cause grief over other hundreds of his kind was unheard of. Part of his alpha instincts wished Liam was just a pawn to this. That he was just being forced and that he was just also another victim. Preliminary evidences though showed a chance next to none.

  Wayne scrolled further down, his budding concerns and the familiar unease he had with his informant never easing. He’d been in contact with this man for the last ten months. Yet, the only thing he knew about Sweetie was the man’s profile picture. Two boiled eggs with a jumbo cheese hotdog in between laid on a white platter. The cheese oozing out of the tip as it was being stabbed by a fork. Clearly, this guy had some really twisted sense of perverse humor. Professionally though, he was supposed to be one of the hundreds of guards around The Prey Ground. A man who apparently found his conscience and wormed his way in and began working together with Allied Districts’ Shadow Corps— the division in the organization working for a noble cause, its executions more often than not in questionable shades of gray.

  Sweetie had a sudden change of heart? And risk his life in the middle of very closed-in, very fucked up core of the sin district? Too many holes there, no pun intended. Skye’s energetic little friends in the nursery could weave a more believable story. It was always why even when he trusted his informant, part of Wayne’s mind always held on to the possibility that Sweetie was actually a ploy of the enemy.

  He could be suspicious all he wants but the truth of the matter was, Sweetie was their only connection inside Sierra Via’s hellish walls. If not for this faceless, reckless informant, Wayne doubted his application would even be approved.

  PS

  Let’s have a couples’ something. No t-shirts. That’s too clichéd. Something intimate maybe? Hmm… anything with a sun. Muah!

  Wayne exited his email and expelled a long breath. God he needed a smoke or two packs. Time and time and again, the Allied Districts had tried all possible routes into breaking down Sierra Via’s structure. Banning exports and imports were a few of the extremes. To the heartache of many, the organization even tried as to manipulate electricity and fuel supply to weaken the district. It had been promising since Sierra Via was located in the northern— practically at the edge— of the continent. Situated at an extreme high altitude point, nights were also the official day and the sun a mere visitor. The place was almost winter all year round. No wonder those very few who had the guts to escape either died from being shot, or from frost bite and hypothermia in this wilderness of snow.

  To everyone’s mortification, Sierra Via stood strong, unfettered by the many forces trying to bring them down with their drugs, prostitution and whatever sick dealings going on inside their district. The AD higher ups, much to their denial and disappointment, had finally accepted that there was a huge possibility that Sierra Via, specifically The Prey Ground, had a backer within the Allied Districts organization. That was why the Shadow Corps even got involved now. Thus, Wayne being assigned the abominable place to spy.

  He allowed himself a little smirk, remembering the ‘muah’ at the end of the message. The quirkiness used to make him cringe at the beginning. But now, reading between those flirtatious lines had become interesting.

  “He was laying the ally sign or something, that’s for sure,” Wayne mumbled under his breath. It took him a while to find something ‘intimate’ synonymous to ‘discreet’ and just resorted to having his right outer ear lobe pierced with a small, silver Celtic sun stud.

  Wayne was about tucking his phone away when it pinged again. He peered at the message, played the video attachment and found himself grinning one more time. It was from Skye.

  The clip was shitty at its best, shaky and grainy. The subject of the video was a familiar truck that he could well remember to be sexy and sleek. The same truck was now covered in hideous neon colors of smiling faces, flowers and hearts. There was a snickering coming from the videographer, obviously Skye, and the familiar low growl of the owner of the truck, Rustom Vera.

  “Great! How do I drive this around the district?” Rustom’s hiss became louder and clearer. “God is that supposed to be rain drops? It looks freaking soggy noodles to me.”

  “Aww it’s cute!” Skye chortled. “They even made you little cupids!”

  The video clip ended abruptly and below was a message that warmed Wayne’s heart. Might as well. He needed all the warming he could get before fully emerging himself with his undercover.

  Caption: What do you think of Rustom’s major truck makeover? One of the kids in the nursery did the honors. LoL. Anyway, leaving without a word seriously? Owning that ‘loner vibe’ to its roots? We’re not going to ask you questions you know that. Just put it in your skull you’re welcome to visit us anytime. Be safe.

  He tucked his phone back into the pocket of his coat, sighing. He could feel the familiar pull of Sierra Nadre and the people he’d met there from his short stay. Even after the morbid past of his fated mate Larri murdered in Sierra Nadre’s soil, the place— the people, made him feel at home no other place had. Even without the reminder from Skye, the mate of Sierra Nadre’s Supreme Alpha Rustom Vera, he was already thinking of coming back. Maybe put his domicile there even.

  It was amazing, even to Wayne, how Rustom Vera chose his long time best friend Skye over his supposed fated mate Reece Alkia. If Wayne hadn’t been into their claiming ceremony a couple of months back, he would probably never believe it. After all, fated mates were elusive, they didn’t happen to everyone. To the many although most of them kept their mouths shut, Rustom’s decision was pure idiocy. But Vera chose what— who he wanted and it was obvious he was a happy man. Just one strong proof that shifters, humans, all beings alike have the power to choose and act over what was thrown at them by life.

  �
�Reaching Sierra Fonte border. The last stop of AD Bullet,” the grainy female’s voice said from installed speakers. “Please be sure to check your valuables and pass. Again, approaching the last stop, Sierra Fonte.”

  Wayne squared his shoulders, grabbed his black duffel bag resting between his legs, stood and headed for the train’s sliding doors. He scowled at his vague darkened reflection. His hair was still a wild mess. He had his dark shoulder-length hair trimmed above his collar for this mission. Yet there they were, already past the collar, curling along the edges. His eyes even to him looked steely. There were more hard lines around his mouth and forehead. His angular jaws were sharper, his bulk broader. Going mission after mission did that to everyone.

  He clicked his tongue and impatiently began tapping his foot against the rubberized flooring. The concept of shifter districts was fairly old given the establishment of the idea a number of decades ago. It wasn’t even far from the human city hierarchies. Districts have multiple packs with their own leaders. Pack members submit to their alphas. Pack alphas submit to the district alpha known as Supreme Alpha or SA. It was a political, economical, and territorial measures best for everyone. And all members of the Allied Districts believe in the equality between all. However, districts like Sierra Via still exist.

  Sierra Via’s animosity and refusal with the Allied Districts had left it secluded. Even the AD Bullet only reached the end borders of Sierra Fonte and he had to wrestle the price range of a beat-up truck which was his companion for the next five days of driving.

  The doors dragged open, allowing him to step into the deserted station. Away from the protective and comfortable heaters, he was met by a chilling damp air. He shivered despite his heavy black coat. If here was already this cold, he could already expect Sierra Via to be freezing. He hated the place of his assignment more and more.