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Even when you're planningan escape, you've still gotta go to work--and at Dreamland, tonight is no different.
I push through the velvet curtain of a private room, the weight of a silver tray balanced in my palm. Tonight, I've been ordered to work as a server for one of the VIP's that occasionally come to the club, though I don't recognize any of the people here. There's a couple, alpha and omega, wearing fancy clothes...an alpha who looks like a politician with them.
One in a dark green hooded cloak thing with tattoos all over his face and fingers, who keeps watching me like he's hungry.
They talk amongst themselves like I'm not even here, other than the one in the cloak, as I serve them drinks. The room oozes opulence, plush crimson seats hugging a dark mahogany table. Glasses clink, ice against crystal. My heels sink into the carpet,each step calculated, as I circle the table pouring drinks with a steady hand.
I step outside and steel myself against the security guards outside--no one I recognize, here with the VIPs.
"Hey, sweetheart, why don't you pour some of that sweetness over here?" The voice grates from the doorway, where two alphas lean, arms crossed, eyes like hungry wolves.
"Busy," I shoot back, not missing a beat or a drop.
"Too good for us, huh? That's some fancy service for a dive like Dreamland."
Their laughter is a harsh echo in the hallway.
I glance at them from the corner of my eye, noting the gleam of their holstered guns, the sleek cut of Kevlar beneath tailored jackets. Expensive toys for big boys playing a deadly game. These aren't your garden-variety thugs; they reek of money.
Whoever is in that room, ignoring me and talking shop...they're more important than the normalvery important people.
I step toward the drink cart outside of the room and busy myself grabbing new stock, napkins, glasses. I'm used to men looking at me, but here in this isolated hallway, I feel vulnerable in a way I don't like.
"Careful, doll. You might find yourself serving more than drinks to men like us," one purrs, stepping closer.
My skin prickles with awareness, heart thudding a warning.Danger.But I've danced this dance before, know how to twirl away from their reach. "Sorry, the only thing I'm serving tonight is alcohol."
"Feisty. We like that, don't we?"
He turns to his comrade, a smirk slicing across his face.
"Indeed. Pity we're working." The other alpha's gaze lingers too long, his smile too sharp.
"Such a pity," I echo, my voice flat as I turn back to the VIPs, leaving the alphas to their cold comfort outside.
I keep moving, keep smiling, but inside, my thoughts race. They're different from the hired muscle that usually skulks around these places. Cleaner. Deadlier. And if they're guarding this meeting, then something big is going down—something I need to keep my eye on.
It could give me leverage...and I'm always looking for leverage in a world where I have nothing. As I move back inside, I tuck every detail into the corners of my mind, ready to be pieced together later. Because in Pacific City, knowledge is survival—and I plan to live a very long time.
The room feels like a furnace, the tension thick enough to choke on. I slip between shadows, tray in hand, eyes sharp for every hitch of breath, every twitch of muscle under expensive suits. These people aren't just high rollers—they're the ones who make the dice roll in their favor.
"I'm glad you could make it, Mr. Irving," the man in the fancy suit's voice is smooth, like a blade sliding across silk, and I can't help but shiver as I step forward to pour more wine into his glass. The omega with him--his mate, I guess--sits next to him, her gaze calculating and cold, an ice queen amid the heat. "I presume travel from Solstice Bay can get a bit tricky for the likes of us these days."
"Wouldn't miss it," the politician says with a grin. "Things are better on the west coast...and now that we're about to rewrite the rules of this city, it'll be the best it's ever been."
I move along the table, pouring drinks, listening, but not too obviously. It's a dance I've perfected—be invisible yet invaluable, seen but not noticed.
I'm near the door when I catch a snippet of conversation that halts me mid-step.
"Great Mutation...engineered for compliance...no one could stand against us..."
The politicians words slither through the air, venomous and heavy with implication. My hands tremble, nearly sloshing watered down booze out of the used glasses.
That phrase—Great Mutation—it's a shadow hanging over the city, a whisper of something terrible on the horizon. It's the thing that changed humanity forever, almost half a decade ago. It made us all into alphas, betas, omegas, enhanced our instincts, our sexuality, our impulses.
It put people like me into situations like this.
Trapped.
