Stronger than Truth

by Dakila Reed

  Liam approached a lady who had made eye contact. She quickly dropped her gaze and resumed wiping a table. As both Liam and Wayne approached, it was obvious she just wanted to shrink away. Had she been at a different situation though, she would be a lovely lady. She looked like she loved her flowers, her cleaning apron had little daisies that the others didn’t have.

  “Why is this hall not ready yet?”

  “Uh…” she looked around, as if seeking help from her other co-workers. She licked her lips nervously and carefully lifted her gaze up at Liam. “They sent us here to clean.”

  “That’s all?” Liam asked with venom.

  “Yes Sir. That’s the only direction.”

  Liam chuckled. He then left the woman and headed down deeper into the hall were a cluster of alphas were. “The fucker.”

  As Wayne followed Liam, it occurred to him that this hall probably was one of those ‘viewing’ halls. Each hall followed a certain sort of theme, depending on the day. Wayne wasn’t sure what the theme for this hall was. But if ‘empty’ was the subject, then this hall was rocking.

  At the far end of the hall, three circular stages were present. Each had a pole reaching up to the high ceilings. There were silks and other crumpled fabrics at the base. The stage to the farthest left was occupied. One man was perched at the side, arms crossed and was actually watching Liam. He appeared to be really waiting, expecting for the man to approach. Four others were standing by. They’d been talking about something which halted when Liam walked into their circle.

  “Idling around as usual Dalton?”

  The man perched on the stage cocked his head to the side. Thin veils of smoke oozed from a cigarette at the corner of his lips. His lips stretched in a wide smile. The man was wearing a suit the same as the first ones Liam had a meeting with that morning. But this man with straining muscles and dangerous smile all sent Wayne’s warning signals firing in his head. Dalton was tall and huge.

  “Liam,” Dalton jovially started, never even throwing Wayne a glance. “Why do you look like someone pissed in your coffee?”

  “Maybe someone did,” Liam replied with narrowed eyes. “Why’s there no progress here in this hall?”

  “Why?” Dalton darted to his ‘friends’ before stepping closer to Liam. “I don’t know. Aren’t we just supposed to tell those idiots to clean?”

  “Didn’t I mail you the checklist? This viewing hall should have been set up by now.”

  Dalton slowly took the cigarette off his lips, blew the puff of smoke at Liam’s direction and sighed. “Really? Forgot. My email doesn’t like taking orders from some omega as usual.”

  Alpha guards at the corners lounging snickered. Their sneers making the other female omegas in their tasks tremble in their roots. The air of anxiety in the hall was thickening. So was the menace. Yet, Liam just stood there like it was nothing.

  “You know… not my fault,” Dalton added with a leer. “Omega orders go into oblivion.”

  Wayne thought how fucking childish.

  Liam rolled his eyes as he slipped his hands in his trousers. “I’ve been hearing that since I’ve been assigned as the new manager two years ago. Can’t you come up with something new? Or your alpha brain all is just made up of nicotine smoke like a fucking balloon? Empty as hell?”

  “What?”

  Liam snorted. “No wonder you got replaced by some omega.”

  The alpha lunged forward and Wayne almost jumped to get in between. There was menace in Dalton’s eyes. Just when Wayne thought the man would grab and attack Liam, Dalton instead stopped a foot away, leaned down and glared. His body was rigid and dangerously taut.

  “Remember the boss won’t always favor you. Once you fall over from your high horse, I’ll gladly take your ass,” the man hissed, his eyes glinting angry lust. “I’ll pry and break you inch by inch and show you your position. I’ll show you where you fucking truly belong and that’s beneath me. Beneath me with your legs spread wide open.”

  The laughter exploded from one corner of the hall. The omega workers continued silently scrubbing the floors until it gleamed in the dark. Meanwhile Wayne was just a millisecond away from losing his own shit. The Prey Ground just never ceases to surprise him in every way. Just as he thought he’d seen its worst, one new ugly aspect would jump for show. Like this asshole.

  But Liam just stared at the sneering alpha. His left brow in a seductive arch.

  “Wow. I always knew you’re aiming for the non-existent fantasy department of The Prey Ground, Dalton,” Liam said in a manner as though he was talking to an imbecile. “I’ve got some news for you. Until that day comes, your balls are mine. Check your mail and get this fucking hall ready.”

  As Wayne fell in step with Liam, he cleared his throat. The man walked as usual with that certain dignified stance. From behind, Wayne could hear Dalton swearing his way all the way to the depths of his humiliation. Again, he cleared his throat. It was so hard not to grin.

  * * * *

  Wayne wasn’t expecting it. Not this anger. Not this fury. Not this intent to harm. One moment some wealthy pudgy human was nicely asking for directions. The next was the man’s stubby, diamond-heavy fingers lingering and tracing Liam’s waist before dipping lower. Wayne’s eyes shot red. With a white wash of hot fury, he lunged forward and captured the man’s forearm. He pulled and twisted it behind the man’s back before pushing him hard against the walls. The stranger whimpered. And suddenly the wealthy man’s security detail surrounded them like flies on a huge piece of shit.

  It took a long while for Wayne to realize Liam had been calling him. “Release Mr Fivado, now.” With a dead calm, Liam stepped into the circle of the wealthy man’s security, his expression grim at Wayne. “Do I have to repeat it Ford?”

  With a mind numb from short-circuiting, Wayne let the stranger go. He stood there unsure of what just happened until a resounding sharp hit jarred him back to reality. Liam had slapped him with the back of his hand. Wayne’s left cheek was on fire. It hurt like a whiny bitch. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his stinging cheek, his gaze dragging back to Liam.

  Liam, after shaking his head at Wayne from displeasure, swiftly ran to the wealthy human’s aid. Fivado was cradling his arm and Liam showed an expression of utter concern that Fivado’s focus was solely on him. Nothing else.

  “Are you hurt? Shall I call for help?” Liam murmured as he traced his fingertips into the man’s probably bruised arm. Liam threw Wayne who was still too stunned another displeased glare. “I apologize for the rough treatment of my guard Mr Fivado. He’s my new dog and I’ve yet to train him.”

  The human stole a glance at Wayne looking half terrified. He should be. But he looked back at Liam’s concerned face and he was just back to cloud fifty maybe.

  “I’m fine,” the man replied, eyes never pulling away from Liam’s.

  Liam smiled apologetically. He brushed the man’s arm some more with heavy lidded gaze. It was a come hither look that made Wayne’s hackles crawl.

  “Do you want me to accompany you to the Velvet Viewing room?”

  Mr Fivado shook his head and gathered his composure back. He stood straight, smiled amiably and took Liam’s hand in his. “I appreciate the offer but I think I remember the way now.”

  Liam nodded and turned to Wayne sharply. “Apologize.”

  “What?”

  “You’re having hearing problems twice now Ford? I said apologize.”

  For a moment, there was indeed a sharp ringing inside Wayne’s ears. A pounding in his skull that was more fury at Liam now than to Fivado. Apologize? To a pig like that? Nevertheless, ignoring the hot wave coursing inside his gut, Wayne put his hands behind his back, spread his legs a bit farther apart and bowed shortly. “I’m sorry Sir.”

  Fivado wasn’t even paying him attention. He brushed Liam’s hand some more before releasing. And then the humans were gone.

  Without saying anything, Liam turned and walked swiftly to the opposite direction. Way
ne followed as usual like the perpetual shadow. The pain across his cheek was still thrumming. It was hot, tingling and below was an itch overlapping with the pulsing of his veins. Damn the guy slaps like a mob boss. No one, not even his late fated mate Larri had slapped him this way. Omegas weren’t known for being violent to begin with, they were the calmer ones. He would have found it funny under different circumstances. But right now, Wayne was in deep anger himself. He wasn’t even sure why.

  “You do not treat clients like that,” Liam gritted after Wayne had closed the doors behind them.

  Wayne worked his jaws and huffed. “He was touching you.”

  “So?”

  “What’s the point of having a guard then?”

  To Wayne’s yet another surprise, Liam grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. Liam was practically vibrating with fury, his breath hot and harsh against Wayne’s mouth.

  “That man is a wealthy regular VIP client of The Prey Ground. He’s asking for directions. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Asking for directions while eye fucking you?”

  “In case you forgot,” Liam hissed. “I am a commodity here too. My name is at the top of the list. It’s natural for those idiots to act that way. Your job as my guard is to stay back. Stay until I tell you to do something.”

  “Like a dog as you said,” Wayne growled. “Here I was beginning to respect you for your ground. Now I see while the others are selling themselves against their will, you seem to love it.”

  Liam stilled.

  “So this is how you got this position? By actively selling yourself?”

  “Yes. I sucked dicks and used my hole to get into this position. Do you have a problem with that?” Liam growled in return. “Listen closely AD rat. I do not need your respect. You’re my dog here. You’re my hand’s extension. If you don’t want getting exposed, or ending up like your predecessor, move when I tell you, halt when I say so.”

  “Do you want me to bark as well?”

  Liam stepped back, his eyes still boring into Wayne’s. For some reason he looked… tired.

  “I know you’re a smart man Rey Ford or whatever your name is,” Liam said condescendingly. “If you want to survive here, wear your darkest. This is not as simple as barging into the tower, slaying your dragons and claiming your victory.”

  His smoke mingled with the mist. The icy secretive fog ahead of him obscured the forests of pines, the quiet streets, and huge expanses of this mind boggling place. Wayne had his back resting by the brick walls. His arms crossed, he gave the dark sky an unappreciative glance before puffing another round of thick smoke all around him. It had been two days since that Fivado incident. And two days Wayne had been temporarily assigned this boring as hell task of standing by the East Wing main exit guarding nothing.

  It wasn’t even the fact that Wayne had been sent away. It was that instead of Liam telling it to his face, it was Gordon— the skinhead, built like a tank Chief Security— who grunted that this was ‘light punishment for attacking a VIP’. If Liam wanted him to die of boredom, the man was succeeding. Wayne shook his head, almost overcome by the want to gnaw and swallow his own burning cigarette. Granted, he did attack the VIP pig, he only did it because the bastard had been feeling Liam up. In Wayne’s mind, he had somehow programmed himself that he wouldn’t do a thing unless someone laid a hand on the manager. All he wanted was to somehow protect the guy. Yeah. Why protect him anyway? He could act like he wanted to shield Liam from all this shit but the truth was, he wasn’t fucking acting. He had wholeheartedly felt anger, a simmering want to defend Liam no matter how disagreeable the man was.

  Wayne took his cigarette off his mouth and smashed the butt against the thigh of a naked marble figure of a man on both sides of the door. The statue looked like it was screaming with its wide open mouth and its palms up, wrists tied in front of him, begging for something. The hands were full of cigarette butts. Half of those were Wayne’s.

  For a few more minutes, he allowed himself to be blank. He inhaled a lungful of damp cold air as if somehow it would clean, clear the confusing thoughts inside his brain. The doors beside Wayne creaked ominously open. It spat Gordon.

  Through the corners of his eyes, Wayne watched the man take on the other side of the door, produced his own cigarette, lit it with the efficiency of a heavy smoker and then sighed away.

  “You’re back to your original post. You’re expected within ten minutes.”

  Wayne snorted. “He misses his dog now?”

  “You don’t like him?”

  “Does anybody like him?”

  “Point.” Gordon took a long drag of smoke before exhaling again. “Though you don’t have to like him to guard him.”

  Despite this being the longest he heard from Gordon— apart from the man’s usual grunts— Wayne chose not to respond. He allowed himself to kill a few more minutes by inhaling more damp air mixed with cigarette smoke before trying to shake away the snow from underneath his boots. He tugged his lapels— similar to the dark coat Gordon was wearing— and reached for the steel wolf head handle.

  “Where am I expected?” he began, running his hand over his eyes that had accumulated a bit of frost.

  “South Wing exit.”

  Wayne just nodded, pushed the double doors open and went inside.

  * * * *

  The South Wing had mostly been off-limits to everyone for reasons Wayne had yet to learn. The usual luxurious muted lighting fixtures cast his shadows moving along the hallways. His large shadow was visible in front, then would slide past and stand behind his back each gilded light he passed. It was like his shadow was trying to break free from him. He didn’t like the South Wing more than he liked the previous sections of this maze. It looked less complicated in front. Yet after getting acclimated with it in person himself, the whole structure appeared to be a cross in bird’s eye view.

  Wayne grimaced finding the comparison fitting. Crosses had always been a symbol of cruelty among shifters since the beginning of time. Crucifixion of captured shifters by humans. Shifters crucifying fellow shifters to show higher reign. The practice had finally stopped. Though each and every one still have invisible crosses to carry.

  The distinct, commanding staccato of Liam’s brogue boots faintly echoed into the quiet walls. Wayne rolled his eyes. It could be anyone’s brogue boots. But it was that rhythm in it, brisk then slow, slow then brisk that had been imprinted in Wayne’s trained ears.

  They met and both stopped in front of the massive South Wing exit— equally intimidating as the rest with the wolf head handles and deep carvings against the oak doors. The sight of Liam this closer made Wayne pause. Contrary to the man’s usual white dress shirt and trousers, today the man was in a white turtle neck over dark-blue shearing-lined leather coat. This was by far the most ‘relaxed’ he’d seen Liam.

  “We’re going for a leisurely stroll?”

  “No. I’m still working.”

  “Huh…”

  Wayne grabbed the wolf head handle and dragged the door open. This was one of the things that boggled Wayne. Heavy doors that weren’t exactly locked. Exits that most often than not were left unguarded. Was it just The Prey Ground’s certainty that no one would try to escape? Or was this the establishment daring one to try? Liam brushed by Wayne first, the man’s hair softly being welcomed and caressed by the chilly breeze. It was right at that exact moment the wind chose a different direction, whipping Wayne’s face full of that raw scent of cinnamon after a strong rain. He tried not to inhale it. But was too late. It had warmed up within his chest, coursing through his veins and he was surprised to hear a voice inside his head. More.

  Wayne slammed the door shut with more force than he intended and followed Liam. It was then that he truly saw where they were headed. Dark it may be, but the gleam of piled snow gave off an eerie cast of pale-bluish light. The South Wing exit was directly connected to a wide bridge made of red bricks at a closer inspection. Mostly were hidden by the
accumulated snow.

  Over Liam’s head Wayne could see a smaller structure by the end of the bridge. They walked in silence with the soft whispers of the cold breeze into their ears, the crunching of the soles of their shoes into the snow. Below, the stream lay frozen.

  After a long stretch of time, both him and Liam finally stood before a miniature version of The Prey Ground’s building. The massive doors opened with a loud groan, revealing two alpha guards with faces as cold as the ice. The men closed the door behind them and led Liam into what seemed like the reception area. It looked funny enough being manned by an expressionless man— a beta in a prim suit and eyeglasses that were perpetually falling off the bridge of his nose. The man acknowledged Liam’s presence with a slight nod.

  Liam and the man behind the tall counter talked in hushed voices. Wayne took the time to absorb the place. It looked and felt different altogether. Same design, same intimidating walls and ceilings, yet… different.

  “Also,” the man added while pushing his glasses back. “Darwin wants to talk to you.”

  “I’ll see him.”

  “He’s in the usual.”

  Liam nodded and walked deeper into the halls. Wayne’s skin was beginning to crawl. Somewhere, somehow, he knew he wouldn’t like whatever he’d end up seeing. After passing by a large and dim open space, they made a left turn where another huge oak door blocked their entrance. Liam grabbed the handles and pushed it open easily. The air nearly suffocated and punched Wayne backwards where he stood. Walls were painted pastel yellow. Walls that were heavily padded and insulated, no sound or scent escaped its perimeter. The tiny muted laughter, the sound of bare feet padding into the marble floors, whines. Oh God. Scent that of sweet innocence. This entire hall was filled with it. Liam pushed what seemed like a smaller door and it gave way to a smaller room.