Chapter Seven
Henry
Another Gala. Well, I’m not complaining.
I never tire of them, no matter how many I attend.
There's something comforting about the familiar ambiance.
But tonight, my thoughts keep drifting back to the last time I was at one of these events and that moment with Leila on the balcony—the first time we spoke and how the night air had caught in her hair, making her even more beautiful.
I remember the way her eyes flickered when I told her to think about a union between us.
The memory brings a smile to my lips that lingers as I turn it over in my mind.
I glance over at Ares, still twirling my drink. He’s here without his family unit tonight, so he’s not smiling. I can tell he just wants to go back home.
The gala is more of a business affair this time. Ares and I, along with other leaders of the most powerful families in the city, have been invited to welcome a man named Ryan Wills back into our midst. The name carries a certain weight in these parts.
The Wills family was once one of the city’s most influential; their name was synonymous with power and prestige.
But that was years ago. Their influence in the city waned as their focus shifted elsewhere.
While most of us were content to consolidate our power here, the Wills decided to think bigger and go global.
They took their investments overseas, spreading their reach far beyond these city limits.
The man behind this ambitious expansion is Ryan Wills, and he’s earned quite the reputation.
In the business world, they say he has his finger in every pie imaginable.
From pharmaceuticals to engineering to weapons development, there’s hardly a sector where his influence doesn’t reach.
But it’s not just his business acumen that people talk about.
Ryan Wills was, or maybe still is, the most powerful Alpha, a status that carries its own weight.
Though I doubt he was as strong as Ares or me when he was our age, there’s no denying the respect he commands.
His return to the city has stirred up a mix of emotions.
On the business side, there’s excitement, a sense of opportunity that’s hard to ignore.
But there’s also caution, a wariness that comes with dealing with someone of his caliber.
Everyone wants a piece of what he has to offer and to forge a partnership that could elevate them to new heights.
Ares and I won’t let that opportunity slip by.
We’re here tonight to meet him and see for ourselves what kind of man Ryan Wills is.
“He’s heading this way,” Ares says, his voice low and steady.
I follow his eyes and spot Ryan Wills cutting through the crowd, a tall, burly figure with an air of quiet authority.
He moves with purpose, shaking hands and exchanging brief words with other guests as he makes his way toward us.
The respect he commands is palpable. People step aside for him without hesitation, their deference evident in every glance and gesture.
When he finally reaches us, his eyes lock onto Ares with a sharp intensity. “Ares Linds, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice carrying the air of someone accustomed to being listened to.
Ares returns his look without flinching, extending his hand. “As have I, Ryan Wills,” he replies smoothly. “On behalf of the Linds family, I’d like to welcome you back to the city.” Their handshake is firm, a silent exchange of power and respect.
I step forward, offering my own hand. “On behalf of the Fergusons, welcome back to the city,” I say, meeting Ryan’s eyes with a measured look. His grip is strong as he shakes my hand, a reminder that this man, despite the years and the distance, remains a force to be reckoned with.
Ryan’s attention quickly returns to Ares, the brief moment of formality between us slipping away as the air seems to calm. For an instant, it could be mistaken for a conversation between friends rather than powerhouses sizing each other up.
“I hear you’re the one responsible for closing the deal on the blocker formula,” Ryan says, his tone carrying a note of genuine admiration. There’s a flicker of something close to respect in his eyes.
“You’ve heard correctly,” Ares replies, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Quite impressive. Quite revolutionary as well,” Ryan continues, his voice steady and appreciative. “The formula is changing the game for a lot of people in different parts of the world.”
Ares nods, the smile now fully forming into a smirk that I recognize well.
It’s the look of someone who knows they’ve made a significant impact.
I find myself smirking, too. There’s a quiet satisfaction in knowing our work is making an impact far beyond this city—especially when I think about the sheer amount of time and effort it took to get here.
From Ares’ company refining the formula to my meticulous planning of its global distribution, everything has come together seamlessly. And I’ll admit, it feels damn good to hear it praised by someone like Ryan Wills.
“I look forward to working together,” Ryan says, his voice rich with intent. “Let’s see what else we can create.”
The words hang in the air, thick with possibility. My mind starts to race, eager to imagine what Ares, Ryan, and I could achieve together. The business ventures alone would be extraordinary. But before I can let my thoughts run too far, Ryan speaks again, pulling me back to the moment.
“Oh, and congratulations on your marriage,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, more personal now. “I’ve heard you’ve formed a family unit—and with a White Wolf, no less.”
“Thank you,” Ares replies, his smile widening.
The mention of his family and Cassie always brings a light to his eyes.
It’s a look I’ve seen often; it softens the sharp edges of his usual demeanor.
For a brief moment, my thoughts drift to Leila, and I feel a similar warmth.
Her name alone is enough to draw a smile from me.
Ryan nods with a thoughtful expression. “She’s the daughter of a good friend of mine,” he continues. “The Kayes are old friends. Perhaps your union with that family makes us friends as well.”
There’s an undertone to his words that suggests more than just polite acknowledgment. The implications of what he’s saying are clear. Alliances are being formed.
"Or perhaps even more than just friends? I intend to take Leila Kaye as my Omega. It appears we will have business and family bonds very soon."
His words fall like shattered glass, cutting through the air with a sharpness that leaves me reeling. For a moment, all I can hear is the sting of white noise ringing in my ears. My mouth goes dry, and my heart thuds in my chest as the shock slams into me.
I can’t hide it. I don’t even try. My eyes dart to Ares. I can see he’s taken aback, too, though not nearly as much as I am. His composure in this moment is far stronger than mine.
Ares is the first to recover, though his voice carries an edge of surprise. “Leila? I wasn’t aware that was even on the table.”
Ryan chuckles, a low, soft sound that’s more predatory than amused. “Why not? The Kayes have been good allies. Strengthening that bond through marriage is certainly a logical step.”
Ares's eyes shift toward me, a flicker of concern breaking through his otherwise composed demeanor. It’s a subtle look, but it’s one I’ve learned to recognize.
“What’s the matter?” Ryan asks, his attention shifting between Ares and me. “Surely you don’t have any objections? Ares, I’m sure you harbor no lingering interest in Leila. I heard you rejected her.”
Ares looks like he’s about to speak, but I beat him to it. “Actually,” I say in a steady voice, “I have an interest in her.”
It’s Ryan’s turn to be surprised, his eyes slightly narrowing as he studies me. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—surprise, amusement, and maybe even a hint of challenge. “Is that so?” he says, his tone almost teasing. “I guess that’s what she meant by ‘other prospects.’”
I can feel myself coil, the anger rising swiftly, hot and sharp. Did Leila tell him she had other prospects? Why does he seem amused by the idea that I am that prospect?
“Yes,” I say, my voice hardening as I stare directly at Ryan. For the first time, I take a moment to really size him up—his graying hair, the brawny physique, the casual air that cloaks him in a kind of dangerous ease. I assess the man standing between me and the woman I want.
“I’ve never really heard much about you—Ferguson,” he says, drawing out my last name with deliberate slowness, his hand caressing his temple as if the effort of recalling it is a strain. It’s a clear attempt at mind games, making it seem as though my first name isn’t even worth remembering.
“Henry,” I correct him, my voice firm. “Henry Ferguson.” I step forward as I speak, closing the space between us, refusing to let him diminish me.
Ryan’s eyes flicker with a mix of humor and surprise at my movement, a slight arch of his brow, he’s seemingly both amused and intrigued by my boldness. The air between us crackles with tension. Everything around us seems to fade, leaving only this moment.
“Well, Henry Ferguson, you must forgive me, as I said, I haven’t heard of you much,” Ryan says, his eyes sweeping over me with calculated indifference.
“In fact, whenever your name comes up, it’s usually in connection with Mr. Linds here.
” He glances briefly at Ares, then fixes his gaze back on me, the weight of his scrutiny heavy and unyielding.
“They say Henry is great at business, second only to Ares. They say you’re strong, second only to Ares.
” A slight snigger escapes his lips as he finishes with a mocking edge that cuts deep.
If his mind games are meant to rile me up, he’s succeeding.
The deliberate comparison and the dismissal in his tone are all designed to push me to the edge.
I meet his stare without backing away, a cold determination settling over me. “I can show you anything you need to know about me,” I say, my voice steady and sharp. “Let’s not rely on gossip.”
As I speak, I let my pores ease open, releasing my pheromones in a controlled surge, angling them directly at Ryan. I will not be underestimated. He needs to understand exactly who he’s dealing with.
I aim a controlled dose of my pheromones directly at Ryan.
I watch as they reach him, a signal of my strength and a warning that he’s dealing with someone formidable.
In most cases, this would be enough to overwhelm anyone, even without tapping into the full extent of my power. But Ryan is no ordinary person.
He inhales deeply, almost mockingly, as if daring my pheromones to affect him.
For a moment, it seems as though he’s immune, untouched by the power I’ve directed at him.
But then, I see it, the slight furrow of his brows, the twitch at the edge of his nose.
He’s feeling it, though he’s doing everything he can to keep his composure.
I increase the pressure, pushing harder, and I see the strain begin to show. Ryan’s calm exterior starts to crack. He can no longer afford to remain unguarded. I watch as he releases his own pheromones as a defensive shield that meets mine in the space between us.
I've never encountered a defensive shield like this before.
Ryan's pheromones form a barrier so impenetrable that it feels as though I'm pressing against a solid wall. What's more unsettling is that he doesn't seem to be exerting himself. This clearly isn’t even the full strength of his power. Normally, at this level of pressure, I would at least see some effect, some crack in the barrier. But with Ryan, there’s not a hint of strain or discomfort. I have to admit it; he’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever faced.
The realization must show on my face because I catch the smirk curling at the corners of his lips. He’s noticed the surprise in my eyes, the slight shift in my demeanor.
“You’re strong, Henry. I’ll give you that,” he says, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “But it’s still far too early to fight me.”
“Yes,” I admit, my tone steady, acknowledging the truth in his words. “But you’re at the peak of your powers, and I’m close. By the time I’m your age, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Now, it’s my turn to smirk. I can see the recognition in his eyes, the subtle shift in his expression as he registers the truth of what I’ve said.
He might have the upper hand today, but time has a way of altering the balance.
As I grow stronger with age, my peak will far surpass his. He knows it as well as I do.
"That may be,” Ryan admits, his voice carrying a grudging respect. “But not yet,” he finishes, his words direct and final.
I shut off the flow of pheromones, closing my pores and recognizing the futility of trying to break through Ryan’s solid barrier.
He does the same, withdrawing his pheromones, and for a moment, we simply stand there, staring at each other with unflinching eyes, straight-faced and silent.
The tension between us lingers, heavy and unresolved.
“Mr. Wills?” a voice cuts through the charged air. I turn to see an older man approaching, dressed in the refined manner of a butler. “Mr. Wills, some of the other guests would love an audience with you,” he says, his tone respectful as he draws closer.
Ryan glances at his watch, a casual gesture that belies the intensity of our exchange.
Then, he turns to Ares, who has been standing by quietly, a silent observer to our confrontation.
“I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other soon,” Ryan says, extending his hand to Ares. They exchange a firm handshake.
Ryan moves to walk past me and toward the butler waiting behind me.
Just before he does, he steps closer, leaning in until his breath brushes against my ear.
“And I’m sure we will be seeing a lot of each other, Henry Ferguson,” he whispers, the words laced with a promise and a challenge.
He pats me on the shoulder, a gesture that feels more like a claim than a comfort, before continuing on his way.
“Well, that was something,” Ares says, breaking the silence that lingers after Ryan’s departure.
“Yeah,” I reply, though my voice is distant, my eyes still fixed on the retreating figure of Ryan Wills.
It’s clear to me now. He’s formidable and a force that demands respect.
But if he intends to stand between me and the Omega I desire, it won’t matter how formidable he is.
I’ll meet that challenge with every ounce of ferocity I can muster.
There is no doubt. I won’t be deterred, and I won’t back down.
Ryan Wills may have shown his strength tonight, but he hasn’t seen the full measure of mine. Not yet.