Page 91 of The Feral Alpha
“It’s a secret!”
They kept walking, cars rumbling by, the clouds drifting in front of the moon.
“Remember our first kiss?” George asked. “We were twelve and in the washroom during science class. You’d somehow gotten hand soap all over your face.”
“And somehow I was so alluring that you had to kiss me,” Olson said dryly.
“It was a terrible kiss.” George laughed. “I missed your mouth and got soap in *my mouth.”
Olson grinned. “You weren’t supposed to just stick your tongue out.”
“That’s what people do in the movies!”
“It is* not.”
”Well, it’s not, but twelve-year-old me didn’t know that.” George squeezed Olson’s hand. “I’m glad I got to find out with you what a real kiss is supposed to be like.”
Olson blushed.
“I’m glad you’re my first everything,” George continued. “First kiss, first love, first—well. I only know this much about our bodies because of you.”
When he said things like that, Olson felt a little silly for wanting a big old proposal.
The proposal didn’t really matter. What mattered was George’s love, bright and happy like he was.
“Here—” George tugged Olson into the mouth of an alley. They’d been ambling along, and George wanted to let the other pedestrians pass. He turned to Olson and reached into his pocket, his breath hitching. “So I still really suck at proposals. I had this whole thing planned, but when all’s said and done...”
He pulled something out of his pocket. It was a ring, glinting and simple with an inlaid turquoise stripe running down the middle.
It was nothing like the twist-tie ring, and Olson’s heart missed several beats.
“There’s no huge gem on it ‘cuz I’m thinking this could be your wedding ring, not your engagement ring,” George said quietly, his cheeks flushed. “Sorry I wasn’t completely honest about where all my earnings went.”
“George, I—” Olson choked up, his eyes growing wet. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah?” George smiled, lifting Olson’s hand.
With utmost care, he slipped the ring on. It fit perfectly. Olson had a thought about what their wedding day would be like, how it’d feel when George put the ring on his finger in front of all their friends and family.
A shape materialized from the shadows before either of them noticed it. By the time they did, a man had gripped Olson’s arm, tugging him roughly away from George.
Olson struggled. “Let me go!”
But the man—an alpha—was stronger. Olson stumbled after him, his heart lodging in his throat.
“Let him go,” George growled, lunging forward. The man kicked him in the gut and sent him stumbling back.
“Hand over your phones, wallets, and the ring,” the man said. “Or you’ll regret it.”
He yanked so hard on Olson’s arm that Olson cried out in pain. George regained his footing and hurried after them. “Let him go!”
“Start handing things over.” The man stopped when the shadows were dark and ominous around them.
There was a flash of something—a pointed knife, long and sharp and deadly.
“No,” Olson cried.
George’s eyes were wide. “Release him, or else.”