Page 39 of The Feral Alpha

Rex’s gaze clouded over. He hugged Olson tighter. “Keep safe.”

But Rex was still learning to function as a man. How well could he keep Olson—or himself—safe?

11

THE ATTACK

Like Olson had suspected, Rex didn’t do well with the Wine Shack’s loud music.

Landon, a tall, thin omega, had come in to play some rock songs on the piano; the volume had been growing louder ever since the dinner crowd swelled.

Olson had gone out earlier to buy some earplugs, but Rex didn’t like those, either, fidgeting with the little foam things in his ear every so often.

When he managed to catch a break between mixing drinks, Olson pressed up close to Rex’s side, wrapping a comforting arm around his waist. He slowly eased out the earplug to speak into Rex’s ear. “Do you want to wait in my office instead? It’s quieter in there. Less people.”

Rex scowled. “No Olson.”

“I’m out here. You know where to find me.”

“Protect.”

“You’re uncomfortable, Rex. I don’t want you to put yourself through this.”

“Olson come.” Rex glanced in the direction of the office.

Olson sighed. “I can’t. This is my business and my job. I can’t just abandon it whenever I want.”

He wrapped his arms tight around Rex, rubbing his back. On impulse, Olson pulled out a notepad and a pen. “Here. Scribble whatever you like. But I’m going to show you how to write my name, and yours. See—”

He made sure Rex could see the way he moved the pen. “This is my name. O-L-S-O-N. And this is your name. R-E-X. Now, you try writing them, okay?”

Rex grudgingly nodded. Olson kissed his ear. Then he eased the earplug back in, patted Rex’s back, and slipped back behind the bar.

One of the bar regulars, Jerry, leered. He’d been watching Olson and Rex the whole time. “New fuck? Never seen you with an alpha before.”

Olson flashed a tight smile. Jerry had always been presumptuous. Arrogant, like he thought every omega would be fighting to get into his pants. “He’s my alpha,” Olson said, glancing at Rex and being quietly glad that he had his earplugs in.

He wasn’t ready to admit that to Rex yet.

“Bit young for you, don’t you think?” Jerry smirked. He flexed his muscles, but Olson just got a vague, oily sense of revulsion.

Jerry leaned over, looking at Rex’s notepad. “Is he... writing your name? Is he stupid or something?”

Anger bubbled hot through Olson’s chest. “Respect my customers, Jerry, or I’ll have Derek see you out.”

“He’s not even a customer. He’s just fucking his way through.”

Olson almost shattered a glass, he was gripping it so tight.

“He’s just like a child,” Jerry said, eyes glittering. “Do you have to dress him and put his shoes on, too?”

“Shut up. I’ve allowed you to be a customer for this long, but you’re trying my patience.”

“Maybe you should hire an alpha who can run the place better,” Jerry said. “Too many misfits around here.”

Olson growled.

He wasn’t sure when Rex had begun paying attention, but Rex was glowering now, staring at Jerry like he might rip open his throat. The pen snapped in his fist.

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