Chapter 91 – Ivan POV
It's like Pandora's box has been opened.
Ever since Zander and I crossed that line, he's been insatiable. I so much as look at him the wrong way, and he's undoing his belt like a man possessed.
In fact, I love it. I crave it. I crave him.
Of course, it's not like I'm innocent in this either. Sometimes, I tease him on purpose. Run my hand down his arm when he's focused. Stretch unnecessarily in the kitchen when he's trying to cook. I've caught him staring every single time.
My makeup artists have practically declared war on me over the marks on my neck and chest. They mutter things like "again?" while dabbing concealer over the bruises Zander leaves. But that's their job, and I'm not giving up my sex life just because they're tired of covering up evidence of it.
Not happening.
I stretch under the covers, groaning slightly. My body is sore—in the good way. My thighs ache, my back is tender, and I'm almost sure I pulled something last night. We may have gone a little overboard.
Okay, a lot overboard. But I'm not complaining.
Today is technically a day off. No shoots. No meetings. No mandatory social events. I have every right to lie in bed, scroll my phone, and rot.
So that's exactly what I do.
I check my notifications and see a buzz of chatter about Harry and Mason. There's a photo from some event—the two of them standing side-by-side, smiling like a toothpaste ad.
They look good together. Ridiculously good.
I grin to myself. Mason owes me big time. In the original story, Harry ended up with Dorian—something about redemption arcs and the transformative power of love. But honestly? No one deserves to be a project.
No one deserves to suffer through someone else's emotional growth when there are already perfectly functional, available people like Mason out there.
I snort and toss my phone to the side.
Dorian still thinks Harry is his. Still acts like he has him wrapped around his finger. I can't wait for him to be blindsided. Just imagining his expression when he finds out Harry's been smiling at another alpha makes me feel giddy.
I do my best villainous snicker.
Then I groan. My lower back protests. My neck creaks. Yep. We really went hard last night.
Time for a shower.
Dragging myself out of bed is harder than expected. I shuffle into the bathroom and flip on the lights. Steam curls around the edges of the mirror from where Zander must've used it earlier.
And of course, his toothbrush is here.
So is his facewash. And shaving cream. And the cologne he only wears for business meetings.
In the shower rack? His special shampoo. His conditioner. A spare razor.
There's even a fresh towel folded just the way he likes it. Not to mention the shirt tossed over the door handle. One of his expensive, wrinkle-resistant ones.
I blink slowly.
In terms of subtlety, Zander Vale is severely lacking.
He's moved in.
Or at least… half-moved in. Stealthily. Quietly. One item at a time.
I smile.
I won't say anything. I won't ruin the illusion. I want to see how long it takes him to realize.
To realize this place—my place—already smells like him. That he leaves a trail of himself wherever he goes. That every part of my daily routine has adapted to make space for his.
And I don't mind it.
Not one bit.
I step into the shower and let the warm water hit my skin. Muscles relax. The aches fade. My mind wanders.
There's a weird peace to all this. A strange quiet in the chaos of my usual life.
I didn't think I'd ever get here.
To feel this… safe.
To wake up knowing someone might be in the kitchen humming while making coffee.
To see two toothbrushes.
To know that the person I love is coming back tonight, probably bringing a stupidly overpriced dessert I didn't ask for, and kiss me like he's starved.
I smile again, water dripping down my face.
Maybe I'm losing it. Maybe I've lost it.
But if this is madness, I don't want to be sane.