Stronger than Truth

by Dakila Reed

  Liam glared hard into the alpha's vengeful eyes before stepping right into the woman's space.

  "I don't deserve this..." she whimpered, pushing herself upright. "I don't—"

  "Lady," Liam snorted. "In The Prey Ground what you deserve doesn't matter."

  He gracefully bent and gently took hold of the woman's jaws, coercing her frightened eyes to meet his unreadable ones. For a moment he looked like he really did care. His gaze was soft. His expression was even sorrowful. "Haven't you learned your lesson already?"

  The two omegas looked eye to eye. And whatever took place, the woman began to cry. Liam’s question was met by silence and the woman’s heart-rending sob. Liam sighed again. He let his fingers brush by the woman’s wet cheek. Wayne almost believed it. He almost fell for that gentleness. The male omega then grabbed the woman's delicate jaws tighter this time, sending her already wide eyes widening even more. "You're the one making it harder for yourself. You understand why I need to do this right?"

  "I do..." she choked. “I'm wrong... I'm so sorry!"

  Liam straightened. Softly he said, “Too late.” Liam kicked her on the stomach, hard. She toppled over, her chains dragging across the cold floors. With disgust on his face, he abruptly turned to the guard who looked much pacified now that the woman was already broken thoroughly apart. More than pain, Liam's gentle and deceiving kindness was much sharper, more painful. Long lasting than any fleshly wound.

  "If something like this happens again inform me right away. It's not up to you how to set these idiots straight. Do you understand me?"

  The guard opened his mouth, looked back at the woman dry-heaving at the corner. He curtly nodded.

  Liam moved out of the room, cursing and hissing. Wayne followed stiffly. He wanted to wring Liam's neck with his bare hands.

  * * * *

  By one in the afternoon, Wayne was exhausted. Not only was he emotionally suffering from the sickening condition and hierarchy structure in The Prey Ground, the very presence of Liam Bridges was making it harder to breathe. It was taking every last inch of his control before he lost it and end up blowing his cover without gaining anything. Watching those helpless omegas, selling themselves against their will was torture enough. But another omega who was supposed to be emphatic, sensitive to the pain of others, more so his kind, was even more tormenting.

  Wayne kicked his bag under the bed and tossed his useless phone on the crisp white mattress. Why was he even trying to check for signal when he knew the signal jammers around this blasted district were very strong? How the heck was ‘Sweetie’ able to send those heavily veiled and cryptic messages? Aside from some internal emailing system that The Prey Ground was using, all other connections, even petty sites wouldn’t load. How was that informant able to reach out to the outside when this place was as closed in as a massive coffin?

  He ran a hand over his face. He’d always wondered about it but now it was getting real. ‘Sweetie’ was probably a bit higher in the spectrum. He was in the upper level of this brothel’s hierarchy free enough to break into the entire system and send an occasional message without being traced. Since getting inside though, connection between him and his informant had ceased.

  Not getting close to anything still, he glared at his empty food tray and sighed. He’d eaten his lunch more from necessity. He’d long lost his appetite inside this mansion’s walls.

  * * * *

  Every hour, every single dragging minute of it Wayne forced himself to look away. Liam had slapped one young woman, sent other three to their quarters without supper, and threatened the female twins to get paddled thrice the minutes they took being late for a client. Wayne thought it couldn’t get any worse. Why did he think that?

  Both Liam and Wayne were supposed to head back to the third floor after Liam had finished his mental checklist. They passed by a large open hall, filled with obnoxious laughter and not so subtle dirty digs. Female omegas in gray dresses that have seen better days were busy moving about like busy ant slaves. In their arms were trays of food, or buckets of beer. Long tables were occupied by men, those who just got off and replaced by the evening rotation. One table closest against the wall had five men busy with their food. Or maybe not so much. Their eyes have shifted, focused at a brunette. Her face was lined with age, her skin unhealthy and pale. She must have been no more than forty and walked herself like she was seventy. She was carrying a stainless tray with a plateful of white rice and some kind of meatball to the men’s direction. Wayne clenched his fists and continued following Liam.

  Something shattered into thousand pieces. Wayne glanced over his shoulder. The tray was on the floor. And the steaming newly cooked rice was all over one guard’s lap. The guard who wore the same sneer like everybody else stared, glared hard at his thighs. His profile was obscured by the woman’s panicked pacing. Unsure, she knelt, grabbed the tray with shaking hands and picked the meatballs one by one.

  Everyone saw it coming. The guard’s huge hand scooped the woman by the neck. Almost off the floor she choked, whispering a hundred ‘sorry’ to unhearing ears. The man’s light blue eyes glinted red. He was going to kill her.

  Eerily, Liam’s steps against the elegant marble floors made the entire hall dart to his direction. Every other female omega looked down, resuming their task of serving around the now expectant hall. And every alpha present was regarding Liam with appreciative glances, mixed with distrust, and that obvious sneer.

  “Don’t butt in here Sir,” the man started, his eyes gleaming darkly. “Look at what this fuck did to me.”

  Liam still had that stone cold face, darting his eyes from the wasted rice, broken plate, and meatballs from under seats.

  “No…” the woman croaked. She was as white as a sheet now, her forehead damp with sweat. “He— he groped me.”

  Liam’s silence intensified the large ticking clock and the cackling fireplace at the end of the hall. He looked around, as if he was about dying from boredom. He spied a lone meatball close to the foot of the table and quickly picked it up with his slim fingers. He raised it and brought it into light, like those who were expecting precious jewels jabbed in ugly marred stones.

  “You do know that meats in Sierra Via are expensive, right?” Liam began to no one in particular. He just squished and pressed the meatball until it lost its shape. He did so as though nothing had been more fascinating. After some time, Liam then cocked his head to the side, his eyes questioning. “Why are you still holding her like that? Don’t you see you’re choking her?”

  Said woman looked at Liam hopefully.

  “Release her Marcus. I need her to clean this mess up.”

  The guard spitefully released the woman’s collar. She staggered and held on to Liam’s shoulder for balance. Liam turned to the woman sweetly, helped her stand properly. He even straightened the woman’s dress. Once done with all the stupid kind rituals that Wayne could all see so clearly, Liam raised the meatball he just picked from the floor and used it to pry the woman’s mouth open. Her eyes filled with tears as she allowed the invasion.

  “Clean all this mess up.”

  Wayne wasn’t so surprised.

  * * * *

  Right after the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind Wayne, he stalked the object of his fury down into the man’s private quarters. He bypassed the warmth the huge fireplace extended inside the salon. The elegance and the art of history in those cream wallpapers, the wooden furniture, its plush rugs and seats, all was lost to Wayne.

  He watched Liam throw himself into a warm honey-colored leather classic couch. The man tossed his black dress shoes in the middle of the room, released two buttons of his shirt, closed his eyes and sighed. It sounded tired and relieved altogether.

  Wayne stood there. He stood with a made huge four-poster bed to his left and an intimidating ten-foot wide painting of wolves in war to his right. Another part of history when districts were not yet established, shifters were more barbaric. Even now in some places— obviously Sierra
Via— shifters remained as stuck up in its past. They craved for that twisted glory to come back. Wayne paused and brought his gaze back at Liam. In the dim, the man glowed. With great difficulty, Wayne forced his eyes away from those long lashes, fanning down Liam’s cheeks. The more he tried to look away, the stronger was the pull of those high cheekbones, those lush lips. He stood like an idiot and all he could see in front of him was that momentary flash of tiredness, weakness from Liam. He almost forgot why he was so angry. He had to remind himself he had no business noticing how those bare feet looked raw and swollen.

  “Are you just going to stand there forever or what?” Liam asked, eyes still closed. “This is one of the very few rooms which have no ears. So shoot.”

  Briefly, Wayne looked up, as if he could gather strength from the intricate ceilings. He then took a step forward. Steadying his fists itching to break and mangle. “Why? Why are you like that?”

  Liam opened an eye. He closed it again. “What that? Since you look like you want to be my best friend, why don’t you be more specific?”

  Running a hand over his face, Wayne took a few steps back and let himself fall into the chair across. “Why?”

  The other man crossed his legs, his mouth twisting in a rueful smile. “You shouldn’t be here if you can’t stomach The Prey Ground.”

  Wayne laughed. It sounded like a cry. “I can stomach everything alright. What I can’t stand is you.”

  The smile on Liam’s face faded. Something clouded his eyes before pinning Wayne back with his gaze. “Are you sure you’re at the right job? Should I ask Gordon to double check your resume? You don’t sound like you belong here.”

  “What?” Wayne almost barked incredulously. “Compassion is not in your vocabulary?”

  Liam narrowed his eyes. Wayne could hear the cogs in the man’s brain spinning rapidly. Why the hell was he exposing so much of himself anyway? He’d always been collected, sensible in places where he found himself stuck. So why again was he this irritable, affected? In front of this heartless being no less?

  “I can assume many guesses why someone like you is here,” Liam drawled. “But because you’re nice to look at, I won’t tell anyone. Yet.”

  Wayne lost the pun, or even the hint of flirting in those few words. He just eyed Liam, absorbing all the little things getting under his skin.

  “Maybe you should tell someone,” Wayne hissed. “Because I’m close enough to killing you.”

  Liam burst out laughing.

  “You should know more than anyone what they’re feeling so why are you—”

  “Merciful?” Liam let his feet fall to the red fine carpet, highlighting more of his distracting pale bare feet. “Why am I so kind?”

  Wayne gaped. Was this guy for real?

  The man straightened on his seat, both his hands resting on the rolled arms of the chair. His eyes although cautious was hinting merriment. “Your secret is safe with me. AD rat.”

  Wayne eyed the man quietly.

  “I won’t tattle you. You might be useful sometime so there’s that.”

  For some demented reason, Wayne didn’t even try to deny being sent by the AD. Liam could be pulling his leg over, was just being bored or whatever. But as Wayne full on stared at Liam Bridges, he could see the man as manipulative, heartless, evil in all its sense. Everything but a liar. Where he got that Wayne hadn’t got a clue. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “Let’s clear this out then,” he said, his voice low. “Who are you working for?”

  Liam blinked at him. Those amber eyes grilled him with a look as though Wayne had just asked the stupidest question of the year. Liam’s mouth pulled at the corners. “Isn’t it obvious I’m working for The Prey Ground? I’m the manager.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Do I?”

  Wayne continued reading Liam. But he came up blank.

  “Let’s just say…” Liam mirrored Wayne’s position. “If you’re working for the AD, I’m working for myself.”

  The omega turned away. He faced the window to his side, watching the slow and steady fall of snow speed up. The darkness outside seemed blacker than black. “Call it what you want.” He smiled back at Wayne. “It’s a form of cruel mercy.”

  * * * *

  That night, Wayne on his bed laid thinking. He ransacked what he’d gathered so far and stared into his dim ceiling. The short list carved through air.

  He hadn’t got a clue where or who ‘Sweetie’ was. His informant was just there, dangerously leaning into both sides of either ally or enemy. No one was mentioning The Prey Ground’s owner. And Liam was the only omega with considerable freedom than the rest. And while Liam was cruel with omegas, he was neither being trusted by the guards and other employees.

  Wayne stretched, resting his arms underneath his head. He stared harder at the ceiling until he could already see the swirling indistinct blotches take form. Liam.

  When he got to his bed it was ten-oh-nine. Now as he took another glance at the wall clock, its hands barely visible in the muted light, it said two-fifteen. Sleep was still a foreign thing. He laid there thinking over and over.

  He glared hard at the ceiling, compiling what he’d seen so far. He replayed everything that had gotten him all riled up. Every single moment, every goddamn second of what he’d witnessed since meeting Liam Bridges in person. All the man did was to inflict pain and humiliation to harmless females. And if he wasn’t busy torturing some hapless omega, he was parading his authority right into the other alphas’ faces. If anything, Liam was the perfect example of a man lost and obsessed with his control. His manager position was an entitlement. Liam was just an arrogant sick asshole. But all these observations Wayne made were seen through eyes heavily veiled by his surprise and anger. As he laid there on the bed thinking, he had to concede he only saw the disgusting surface and he wasn’t seeing things in all angles. But what?

  Wayne abruptly sat. He pushed himself against the wall, eyes training at his rough hand he’d rested on his left knee. He raised his hand in the dim. He opened and closed it. His fingers were thick and long. His palms roughened by almost countless fights and near-death encounters. He knew he was strong. So was any other alpha by nature compared to the rest.

  The image of the woman in shackles flashed by Wayne’s mind. The guard had been so close to hitting her with his massive fist. Liam had stepped in time though not to protect the woman. In the end Liam had kicked her himself. The first time he saw Liam, he was hitting another omega with a whip. The woman’s back had been an abstract of blacks, blues and reds. Had one of the guards did the whipping, just one stroke and that woman would have lost consciousness. And maybe not wake up again from serious spine damage. A muscle in Wayne’s jaws began to tick. The last one for that night was the server who almost got herself choked to death. And Liam had changed it by a twisted kind of humiliation instead.

  “It’s a form of cruel mercy.”

  Wayne’s eyes glinted in the dark. Liam was going to be a dangerous enigma.

  It was quiet. It didn’t mean that it was peaceful. Very far from it.

  Another day was starting again. Dark, the sky had been a bit generous to show glimpses of stars here and there. Eight in the morning looked eight in the evening. Somewhere outside, footsteps against snow was somehow relaxing. Oddly soothing. The Prey Ground was considerably serene, tranquil. Almost like a home for a quiet, amiable noble family. But it was because all the older female omegas— those who were considered too old to be servicing sexually— were slithering into concealed narrow hallways two feet wide as they made their way to different areas to carry out their tasks. Guards were everywhere though nowhere the eyes could see.

  Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. He was waiting for Liam outside a room made of glass walls. This portion of the East Wing resembled most the typical cosmopolitan offices he’d seen all over the world. Liam was sitting at the end of a long oval table. His face as impassive as a
statue’s as he listened to reports. His amber eyes twitched at the slightest, something about he probably found unacceptable. Wayne didn’t need to be inside to know that this meeting was always this strained. Like everyone just wanted to get this over with fast.

  After the last man around the table had finished speaking, Liam nodded, not very discreetly yawning in front of everyone before nodding again. He pushed his swivel chair back, his mouth moving fast. He appeared to be monotonously spitting out orders to the rest of the group. Once in a while one would nod, some would ask a question. The meeting appeared like any other meeting Wayne couldn’t stand. He looked away. He was staring harder and longer into Liam’s mouth more than needed.

  After another fifteen minutes, the morning meeting finally ended. Liam was already walking back into the hall preserved in time. The guy didn’t even bother calling him. Wayne half-jogged, catching up with The Prey Ground’s manager. He then slowed down once he met the standard three paces from Liam. The man’s back as usual was straight, his steps confident. Above all else, he looked… flawless. In the simplest white dress shirt and black slacks, paired with his burgundy-hued leather shoes, it shouldn’t have been so appealing. Yet Wayne was there, his eyes dangerously darting lower and lower from the man’s thick mop of black hair down to the man’s spine.

  Liam suddenly glanced over his shoulder. “Enjoying the view?”

  Wayne just grinned. Liam shook his head before entering the deep-red double doors before him.

  Once inside, Liam’s displeasure was obvious in his eyes. The man scanned the hall with pursed lips. There were a number of women on their knees busy scrubbing and polishing the marble floors. A few of those women were wiping little tables scattered around the wide space. Except from the bit of shy light from the chandeliers above their heads, the hall was cast in a darkness that was both precarious and challenging.