"Sir?"
A waiter called from his side, but William didn't hear him. His gaze never left the woman on the stage. The singer was an enigma wrapped in light, so bright and bewildering that even the alpha's best methods of self-control were overwhelmed. Her long, platinum-white hair fell softly, like silver threads reflected in the light. Her eyes, with that intriguing heterochromia, were almost hypnotic. William realized that if he got too close, he might get lost in them, which, oddly, didn't displease him as much as it should have.
Somehow, the woman's energy overwhelmed him, in a way no other person had before. Her fragrance, as soft as jasmine but with a fresh hint of peach, enveloped him and unsettled him at the same time. The sensuality of the stage, the way her body moved to the beat of the music, filled him with a visceral sense of attraction he didn't even try to suppress.
"Sir?" The waiter, now a little closer, appeared in front of him, holding a bottle of Everclear 190 in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other. The man's presence seemed to fade completely under the weight of the alpha's gaze, but the sound of his voice broke him out of his trance.
William blinked, and for a moment, he had to breathe deeply before he could utter a word. The air felt heavy, almost dense, and he needed to calm his mind before it completely overflowed. Finally, he forced himself to look at the waiter, though his eyes were still trapped on Erika's figure.
"What's her name?" His voice wasn't angry, but something about it sounded dangerous as if a dragon were being barely contained.
The waiter didn't respond immediately, surprised by the question, clearly uncomfortable with the level of interest the alpha was showing in the singer. William watched him silently, letting the tension rise between them like a sword suspended over the waiter's neck.
"The singer on stage who seems to command the attention of the entire establishment?" The alpha's patience was quickly running out, and his tone was becoming more impatient and cutting. "(Is it so surprising that such an omega catches my attention?)" he thought to himself, almost annoyed by the others' disdain for the singer as if it were normal to ignore such beauty.
Finally, the waiter, clearly nervous, answered in a whisper:
"The lady's name is Erika Belion; she's the lead vocalist of the band Creed Sailys."
William repeated the name softly, as if savoring the syllables in his mouth, and as soon as he did, something in his chest tightened as if the sound of her name was resonating somewhere much deeper than mere curiosity.
"Is she a regular performer here?" he asked, now with an unsettling calm in his voice.
"She usually comes every Friday, but sometimes she shows up during the week," the waiter replied, still trembling slightly.
William didn't take his eyes off her. His mind was already beginning to formulate possible actions, to weave the scenario so he could get closer to the singer. All he needed was to know more, to be closer to this woman who, without saying a word, had begun to unleash a storm inside him.
"Do you know her?" His tone turned dangerously serious, with an implied threat that made the waiter freeze.
"Everyone around here knows Erika!" the waiter exclaimed, his eyes wide with fear, as if he'd made a terrible mistake mentioning the woman. "I mean... she's... a very nice woman who commands a lot of attention, despite repeatedly rejecting any invitations."
The waiter stepped back, obviously terrified by William's stare, but William didn't seem interested in his nervousness. The alpha repeated, "Do you know her personally?"
The waiter shrugged, unable to maintain eye contact. Unease grew on his face, and William regarded him with icy coldness.
"Get out of here... you're of no use to me."
With an imperious gesture, William dismissed him. There were no more words to be exchanged. The waiter left quickly, almost running, his face still pale.
William, once again alone with his thoughts and his growing desire to get closer to the singer, crossed his arms and leaned back, returning his full attention to Erika. His mind was torn between the business that had brought him there and the temptation that now consumed his thoughts.
The melodies continued to float in the air, and William, although aware of his companions, no longer paid attention to them. Work could wait. That woman on stage had stirred something deep within him, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
And then, as if by fate itself, the melody abruptly stopped. And with it, the atmosphere of the place changed abruptly.
The atmosphere in the bar had become increasingly heavy, but the final straw was the abrupt sound of the melody that suddenly ceased. The smell of peaches that filled the air became so intense it almost seemed as if you could touch it, a scent that William quickly identified with a single sigh. Erika's presence, so imposing and unattainable on the stage, suddenly became vulnerable before everyone's gaze. And as if on cue, a cruel murmur began to grow in the air.
"We've got something special tonight!"
"I bet the bitch's in heat!"
"She's crying! What an adorable puppy!"
"That's right, puppy! Don't hold back any sobs, use them all for the show!"
"I could train you so well, pup! You're a very pretty pup!"
Insults flooded the bar, and William didn't need to look at them to know what was happening. Attention shifted to the woman on stage, whose brilliance was beginning to fade due to the vileness of those present. It was at that instant that the alpha's fury exploded, but what came next wasn't a shout or an order. It was the silence of his body, the stillness of his movements, that made the entire room freeze. William didn't rise from his chair, but his eyes, those fiery red eyes, filled with a palpable intensity. He slowly clenched his fists as the atmosphere began to thicken. The energy around him shifted.
The glass in his hands creaked under the pressure of his fingers, cracking with a sound that shattered the calm in the room. The liquid spilled onto the table, but the focus was no longer on the glass. The air itself seemed to churn, charged with an inhuman pressure that could only come from an alpha of his caliber.
Then he did it. Without a single sudden movement, William allowed his pheromones to be released, spilling like a tsunami of authority throughout the space. The air was filled with his essence, a mixture of power, absolute control, and possession. The fragrance, warm and heavy, completely replaced the sweetness of the singer's peach.
It was a clear message, not only to those present but to all who could smell it. The atmosphere was now charged with a dominance that only the most astute knew how to interpret. Every soul in the room was reminded, with a forcefulness that left no room for doubt, that this omega on the stage was no longer just another artist.
She was his.
The crowd, still too stunned to react, began to lower their gaze, the submission palpable in their gestures, the sense of danger emanating from William penetrating their hearts. No one dared to challenge the message. No one moved a muscle, because they knew that, like them, everything that happened from now on fell under his shadow.
William simply wiped the glass residue from his hand with an almost mechanical gesture, as if nothing that had happened had affected him. And that was when he saw her again.
Erika.
She was barely standing on the stage. Her peach fragrance still mingled faintly with the air, struggling to resist the dominance of her own pheromones. But it was clear the omega was overwhelmed, emotionally and physically exhausted. Her small frame trembled, trying to compose herself, until two figures burst onto the stage urgently.
Alison and Emma.
The first, her face hardened with fury, wrapped Erika in a dark blanket that someone had handed them in midair. The second, smaller one, decisively grabbed the omega's arm by the wrist as she glared at the silenced audience with open hostility.
Not a word was spoken. Only the quick footsteps of both could be heard as they helped Erika off the stage. Alison didn't bother to hide her haste. Emma didn't even hide the threat burning in her eyes.
William followed them with his eyes. He didn't intervene. He didn't move.
But he didn't need to.
His gaze alone was enough. Steady, intense, fixed on Erika as if he were branding her with fire from a distance. He didn't take his eyes off her for a single second as she was escorted out of his sight, staggering like a flame about to go out.
Without saying a word, the black-haired man left some bills on the table, adjusted his sleeves, and, with the calmness of someone who knows he has already made his position clear, got up from the table, walking away calmly.
His companions, Xander and Bentral, followed him without question, knowing full well the implicit message that had just been delivered. Not another word was needed.
The crowd, fear still etched on their faces, watched as William and his two executioners retreated. But the effect of his presence had already been marked, like an invisible seal.
And although he said nothing, his posture spoke for itself.
Erika Belion could have been removed from the stage.
But she wasn't taken off his radar.
Nor off his decision.
And the last feeling that lingered in the air was the echo of a single truth, now even clearer to everyone present:
That omega already had an owner. And it would be better if no one dared to forget it.