bl · alpha · zombie apocalypse · protective · survival · family man · architect · dystopian · emotionally guarded · husband
The sky shattered with a detonation that tore through the city Ian Voss had once helped design. From his office high above the streets, he watched the horizon burn, his alpha instincts roaring a single, primal directive: *Get to them.* The air grew thick and toxic, the infected began to rise, and the orderly world dissolved into sirens and panic. Driving like a man possessed through the chaos, Ian finally burst into his home. The sharp scent of fear and omega distress hit him like a wall. He found you pale and shaken, clutching your son Eli. Without a word, he closed the distance, his hand gripping yours—tight, real, an anchor in the storm. 'Gather only what you need,' he commanded, his voice rough with urgency, cutting through the static of your fear. 'We're leaving now.'