Just Zander

Ivan's POV

The night air is crisp and cool, carrying the distant scent of salt and blooming night flowers. It's quiet, the only sounds coming from the gentle rustling of trees, the rhythmic crash of waves against the distant shore, and the soft crunch of our footsteps on the dirt path.

Dinner had been warm, lively, filled with teasing and laughter, and Jeremy had somehow wormed his way into my heart in a matter of hours. I still couldn't believe that this man—so full of warmth, humor, and life—was Zander's omega father.

And now, after all of that, Zander is dragging me along for a walk.

His hand is warm around mine, his grip steady yet uncharacteristically gentle, like he's still adjusting to the idea of simply holding hands in the open.

"A pig, huh?" I say suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

He groans. Loudly.

"The whole town will never let me live it down," he mutters, clearly suffering.

I grin.

"You were thirteen, huh?"

"I was tricked!" he defends, shooting me a glare filled with wounded pride. "I was a dumb kid who thought he could wrestle a pig. The thing was—" he grumbles, shaking his head, "—unnaturally strong. I maintain that something was wrong with that pig."

"Uh-huh." I laugh.

"Not you too," he groans, rubbing a hand down his face.

I don't even try to hide my amusement.

This is adorable.

We walk a little further before coming across an old fallen tree, its bark worn and smooth from time and weather.

Before I can react, Zander grabs me effortlessly, lifting me up as if I weigh nothing and placing me on the log before hoisting himself up beside me.

"A little warning would have been nice," I grumble.

He chuckles but doesn't apologize.

Instead, he stretches his legs out, leaning back slightly on his hands. I do the same, tilting my head up to the vast, star-strewn sky.

It's beautiful.

No city lights, no honking cars, no flashing billboards—just the unfiltered sky, vast and infinite, stretching in all directions.

I exhale slowly, taking it in.

"It's beautiful," I say, my voice softer than I intended.

Zander hums in agreement.

"Yeah."

"Could have given a guy a warning, though," I say, my voice teasing but genuine.

Zander chuckles, but he keeps his gaze fixed ahead, as if he's thinking about something far away.

"I'm sorry," he says finally. "It's just... kinda top secret."

I glance at him, raising a curious eyebrow.

"No one knows about this place," he continues. "All my employees, my family... they just know that once a year, sometimes every two years, I go off the grid. No one can reach me, no one can track me. As far as they know, I disappear."

I blink, letting his words sink in.

"And they don't try to find you?"

"They can't." His tone is matter-of-fact. "I make sure of that."

That... makes sense.

"It's safe here," Zander adds, glancing at me. "I couldn't risk them finding out about this place."

I look around, at the quiet town, at the peace that lingers in the air, and I understand.

This is the one place in the world where he can just exist.

"I haven't been around in a while," Zander admits, his voice softer than usual.

 "And I decided to bring you along. To introduce you to the only other most important person in my life."

I turn to look at him, but his gaze is still fixed ahead, as if he's afraid to see my reaction.

"You said you wanted to know me," he murmurs.

His fingers flex slightly against the bark of the fallen tree, as if he's restless, uncertain.

"I think this is the only place I remember being just Zander."

That makes my chest ache and simultaneously feel fuzzy.

I shift slightly, closing the small space between us, and rest my head against his shoulder.

Zander doesn't tense or pull away.