Page 78 of The Feral Alpha

“You didn’t say that! So now we’re—fi... finsies?” George wrinkled his nose.

“Fiancés,” Olson said, his grey eyes gleaming. “I’m gonna tell my dads!”

“Oh, gods,” Mom muttered. “I better text them first.”

She’d better! George was going to have a husband.

21

REX TAKES CARE OF OLSON

Olson wasn’t sure what day or week it was when he woke up. Time had blurred into a mess of fatigue and nausea, of going to the Wine Shack and barely staying upright.

Rex had been doing most of the heavy lifting.

How he’d acquired pickles and crackers, Olson didn’t know. All he knew was Rex staying in bed with him, helping him sit up, making him drink water or ginger ale. He’d brought Olson to the bathroom to wash up, he’d carried Olson to the toilet when he needed to throw up.

A number of times, Rex had sat with Olson in the shower, both of them on the floor, Olson drowsy in his lap as Rex soaped him up and washed the suds off, and then dried him with a towel.

And now the fatigue was finally easing off.

Olson scrubbed his sleep-crusted eyes, pushing himself upright. Next to him, Rex had his arm curved protectively around Olson’s waist, his face peaceful as he slept.

The moment Olson tried to ease Rex’s arm off, his eyelids fluttered.

“Olllsonnnn?” Rex mumbled, tightening his grip.

“Hey. I need to pee.”

Rex snuffled. He made himself wake up immediately, scooping Olson into his arms.

“Rex. Rex!” Olson patted his arm. “It’s okay. Put me down. I can get there myself.”

Rex squinted at him, his eyes red from exhaustion. Olson’s heart squeezed.

“Why are you so tired? No, don’t answer that. How much sleep did you get while I’ve been...” Olson waved at the pillow.

Rex shrugged. “I sleep.”

“Not enough.” Olson pouted. He pointed at Rex’s pillow. “Go back to sleep. I can make it to the bathroom.”

Rex watched as Olson got to his feet and wobbled his way to the bedroom door. And he climbed out of bed to follow close behind, so close that Olson felt the heat of his alpha against his back.

In the bathroom, Rex helped him down onto the toilet; sitting was less tiring than standing. Then he helped Olson back into bed, and Olson snuggled up against him, burying his face into Rex’s shoulder. Rex rumbled, giving a sleepy smile.

It was nice like this, just the two of them snuggled up in bed, Rex’s scent all around him.

“I find,” Rex said quietly.

“What did you find?”

When Olson looked up, Rex reached for something on the nightstand.

It was a white ring, made from an old, rusted twist-tie.

Olson’s heart missed a beat.

Rex took Olson’s hand. He tried to fit the ring on Olson’s ring finger, but it was sized for a child and too small. So he slipped it onto Olson’s pinky finger instead, where it got stuck at the second joint.

---