His by Choice Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Angelique Voisen

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-420-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my readers, I hope you enjoy Butch and Walker’s story.

  HIS BY CHOICE

  Determined Mates, 3

  Angelique Voisen

  Copyright © 2017

  Prologue

  Six Months Ago

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Walker.”

  “Terry was the best.”

  “Call me if you need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on.”

  Meaningless words.

  Walker slumped in his seat, staring at the body of his dead mate across from him and wondered if he should feel angry or relieved. He was born an Omega wolf, which meant his parents and pack arranged his mating and marriage to Terry ever since he was a kid. Walker had never had a choice in the matter, never wondered how his life would be like if he had the ability to make his own decisions—until now.

  He rehashed the events of the last twenty-four hours in his head. Terry had been on a plane to a business meeting in Boston when his plane crashed, the accident so sudden, so unexpected that even a powerful shifter like Terry couldn’t heal from it. Since then, everything had fallen apart. Walker couldn’t comprehend the fact Terry just died although his wolf certainly felt the heat.

  As mates, his wolf was connected to Terry’s, although their marriage was one of business and convenience. His parents and pack had picked Terry, because of Terry’s ties to the Jade Mountain pack. What would happen to that alliance, Walker really didn’t give a damn.

  “Free,” he whispered to the now empty space.

  Cold seeped past his rented suit, his skin. The word sounded odd on his tongue, foreign. Omegas in his pack were valued when they were virgins, but he was no longer one, and in his two years of marriage to Terry, he’d never conceived a child. In other words, not only was he second-hand goods, he was also barren.

  Other Omegas in his pack who were raised to believe they had to rely on their stronger, dominant males would have despaired, but not Walker. He always disagreed with the beliefs of his backward pack, that claimed Omegas needed to be protected, kept safe, a prisoner in their own homes. Walker had always found ways to stretch his leash. After high school, he took up online courses, got a degree in graphic design and knew he could sustain himself on freelance work.

  He rose unsteadily to his feet and approached Terry’s coffin. It was closed, given there weren’t enough pieces of Terry to put back together. Walker laid a hand on the wood, which felt cool to the touch.

  His family and pack members thought he was shocked into silence, so they’d made all the funeral arrangements. Terry’s family helped. They gave him the standard condolences although Terry’s older brother Derek hadn’t been too subtle in hinting if Walker needed company, all Walker needed to do was give him a call.

  Derek and any other dominant males in the pack had given him the same hints, but he knew exactly what they wanted. An Omega like him, whose mate died, was of no use to the pack, and he didn’t plan on being anyone’s fuck toy, only good for hook-ups.

  Walker returned his attention to Terry’s coffin. “We made it work somehow,” he said, although he knew the dead probably didn’t give a damn about the living. While the chemistry between Terry and him had been nonexistent, they’d eventually become friends.

  Walker touched the mate mark on his neck, already fading fast. Because he couldn’t tell anyone else his plans, he talked to his dead husband.

  “I’ve decided,” he told Terry. “I’m leaving the pack. They’ll look for me at first, but they’ll stop eventually because it’ll be a waste of resources. I’m not worth anything to anyone anymore, but that’s a good thing. I think I want to move into a small town for a change. Be someone else.”

  He rubbed a tear that dribbled down his cheek, unsure why he was crying. Terry had been a decent husband in the end, although they’d had their share of fights. Loneliness twisted Walker’s insides, and like a dam burst open, hot tears continued to fall. Among his pack and family, he hadn’t shed a tear. Some even congratulated him for being strong while others looked at his lack of emotions with disapproval.

  The opinions of others no longer mattered, not in his new life. Silently, he bade farewell to Terry, unsure if he would see Terry again. He rubbed at his eyes and finally left, closing the door gently behind him.

  Werewolves mated for life, but that fact extended to couples who were badly in love with each other. He’d seen pairings like that in the pack before, how the remaining shifter soon followed after his or her half. That hadn’t been the case with him. Walker exited the funeral home and headed straight to the car park. He had one overnight bag, his wallet, phone, bank book and cards. That was all.

  Most of his belongings were back at the apartment Terry and he had shared, but he no longer needed them, not where he was going anyway. He opened up the GPS in his phone and randomly decided on a small town he could start his life in.

  “River West,” he said, pointing a finger at his screen.

  This chapter of his life was over, but the next chapter remained to be written.

  Chapter One

  There it was again, the incessant noisy drilling that didn’t do Butch Cassidy’s supernatural hearing any favors. However, Butch’s main gripe was the fact his new next-door neighbor seemed to have no clue on how to use a damn drill properly. He gritted his teeth.

  For fuck’s sake, Butch was Alpha of the River West pack and people expected civilized behavior from him. He should file a complaint to the landowner, but his next-door neighbor had ruffled his fur the moment the asshole moved in three days ago.

  A week had passed since full moon season, aka mating season for shifters, but Butch, his Beta, Leon, and other pack enforcers were still dealing with the outcome. Being horny during that period was fine, but some shifters were prone to being wild and destructive, too, so Butch had been having a couple of sleepless nights. As Alpha, it was his responsibility to account for property damages, appease the locals.

  God, sometimes being Alpha was a headache, but the pack was everything to him. Butch had inherited the title at fifteen, after making one painful decision that would haunt him for the rest of his life. That choice made him cross the line between pup to adulthood right away. Some of the older pack members didn’t trust the judgement of a teenager, so they’d left, but those that stuck, supported him throughout. As a result, Butch had forged bonds of steel between himself, his Beta, enforcers and other members.

  “Why do you have to drill on my only day off?” he grumbled.

  His fluffy white Pomeranian, Roxy, yipped at him, woken from her nap. Butch growled at the Pom. She responded by nipping at his ankles. Cursing, Butch scooped her up in his arm. Roxy had been a kind of gag gift from Leon, who aside from being his faithful Beta, was his annoying best friend.

  Leon, for some reason or another, had decided Butch needed some additional company at home since Butch refused to find a suitable mate. Butch wanted to return the dog, because no sensible Alpha owned a Pom. Werewolf Alphas deserved fierce, big dogs like maybe a husky or a German She
pherd. Why couldn’t Leon get him one of those?

  But Roxy had unknowingly wormed her tiny paws into his heart, and as a result, Butch decided she could stick around.

  Butch’s wolf hovered close to the surface, annoyed at the damn neighbor. Even Roxy quieted in his arms, and he stroked her fur until she snuggled next to his chest.

  “That’s it,” he muttered under his breath.

  It was time he introduced himself to his new neighbor, because this couldn’t go on forever. Butch had lived in this apartment since he was a kid. It was the first home his parents had owned. He had happy memories here, before things got shot to hell and everything else was colored with pain and suffering. Nonetheless, this crappy apartment was important to him, the only memento of his parents.

  Some of his pack members wondered why he never bothered to move out of his apartment. For one, it wasn’t in the best neighborhood in town, but he couldn’t be bothered to explain the place held sentimental value for him.

  His neighbor, on the other hand, Butch knew wouldn’t stay long. Most renters left within the span of a few weeks, at the most, two months once they realized this neighborhood wasn’t that ideal.

  “I swore I wouldn’t use the Alpha card, but I need my sleep,” he told Roxy. Her beady black eyes only held judgment. “You couldn’t sleep either with this noise.”

  She sank her teeth into his forearm, making him growl. The little dog was probably the only living thing who managed to leave so many marks on him. During his time as Alpha, Butch had efficiently and viciously disposed of any contenders who dared challenged him for his title. How could one dog be such a menace?

  He stalked out of the apartment, still carrying Roxy. Butch nearly bumped into elderly Mrs. Wilkins, his other next-door neighbor and who’d been his neighbor ever since his parents were alive. She was ancient, definitely a paranormal, a witch of some sort, although he never asked.

  “Morning, Butch. I heard you came in late last night,” she said.

  If Butch didn’t have werewolf hearing, he wouldn’t have caught her words with the noise.

  She wobbled over to him and patted Roxy, who happily rubbed her nose to her withered hand.

  “Traitor,” he said to his dog.

  “You look ready to rip someone a new one. The new tenant?” she asked.

  “Oh yeah. He doesn’t seem to understand the walls here are thin,” he replied, baring his teeth, surprised she patted his arm.

  “Be gentle with him. I sense old pain from him. Walker’s like a bird who’s lived in his cage all his life, spreading his wings for the first time, but unsure of where to go.”

  That perked his interest a little, making him shove his irritation back. “You’ve spoken to the guy? And his name is Walker?”

  She nodded sagely. “You better put a bandage on that bite. Remember my advice, Butch. Can you press the elevator button for me?”

  Butch did as she asked, bidding her a good day.

  “I’m making shortbread cookies later, so I’ll send some over. I know they’re your favorites,” she added, making him snarl.

  Mrs. Wilkins had a good heart, but sometimes Butch wondered if she still saw him as that young, hesitant pup, who was unsure of his role in life. Considering her words carefully, he walked to the unit next to his, raised his fist to the door, and knocked. No reaction. The drilling didn’t stop either, so, temper rising, he rapped his knuckles harder, until the drill stopped. Footsteps.

  Someone yanked the door opened a second later, Walker perhaps. Butch nearly lost his senses as the most tantalizing scent hit his nostrils. What Mrs. Wilkins failed to mention was the fact Walker was a gorgeous, young Omega wolf and his Alpha beast wanted nothing but to bite this little morsel of temptation and eat him all up.

  ****

  All Walker wanted was to hang up one damn picture. Instead, he’d ended up with several holes in his living room wall. Hah. Nice word to call it that when his single room apartment was pretty much like one square box. It didn’t matter though, because for the first time in his life, he could call this place his, crappy as it was.

  He paused from his drilling when he heard the knock on his front door. Walker turned the drill off. He didn’t know anyone in the building or in town yet, save for Mrs. Wilkins in 401. She’d knocked on his door, two nights ago, offering him chocolate cookies.

  As an Omega raised in a pack compound that disliked interference from outsiders, he’d been taught never to trust strangers, but seeing the smiling old woman warmed up his heart. He’d accepted her invitation to her home, heart gutted when he saw the pictures of her and her late husband on the living room shelf.

  They shared some kind of connection then, except he couldn’t comprehend losing someone he loved. Terry had been a friend, but she’d lost her soul mate. He wiped the sweat on his brow before answering the door.

  Mrs. Wilkins had even gone so far as to offer him a tour around town. Walker knew nuts about construction, or even DIY furniture. He might as well have a break. He opened the door, his Omega wolf prickling at his skin, warning him of danger.

  Too late. The hinges creaked, and instead of revealing an elderly woman with a bright smile, two hundred pounds of aggressive and dominant energy hit him full blast. Every muscle in Walker’s body froze at the massive titan standing inches from him.

  Another shifter, a werewolf, but Walker could only name one individual who could come close to that terrifying level of power—Vic, the Alpha in his former pack. Even then, Vic’s aura didn’t feel like this. Walked dared look up, unsure why he didn’t flee instantly at the first sign of danger.

  A rough but handsome face stared down at him, eyes the same shade as the Alpha’s hair, chocolate brown but with flecks of gold in them. This strange Alpha’s wolf looked right at him. That would have terrified any submissive Omega, but he swallowed instead. Faint scars trailed down the side of the man’s throat. Hints of black ink peeked from the Alpha’s t-shirt, stretched by steel-hard muscle.

  God. Was Walker in some kind of trouble?

  Then a bark broke the illusion, and something white and fluffy came from the man’s arms. A dog. No, a Pom with a bright pink collar. The tiny dog shattered the illusion of danger, and Walker killed the urge to reach out and stroke the cutie pie, because the Pom’s frightening owner wasn’t just staring at him.

  Walker had a feeling the Alpha was drinking every inch of him down. He blushed, and God Almighty, it should be a crime, the way this stranger looked at him. Still, his traitorous cock stirred in his jeans.

  It had been so long since he was attracted to another man. Hell, despite he and Terry agreeing to have an open relationship, he didn’t bother seeing anyone else. One night stands had hardly interested him, but for some reason, all he wanted to do was climb this big hunk of Alpha male.

  Jesus. What was wrong with him?

  “W-what do you want?” he managed to ask.

  The gorgeous behemoth smiled, baring teeth. At him. What the hell? The dominant wolves in his former pack didn’t hesitate to punish mouthy submissive members when they became defiant. Terry had been one rare decent wolf who didn’t mind Walker having opinions, and on more than one occasion, he’d used his mate as a shield from the others.

  This Alpha, though, didn’t resort to violence at all.

  “Your drilling is annoying the fuck out of me.” That deep voice nearly made him shudder, but he suppressed the reaction.

  When it came to big predators, showing fear was a mistake. He’d learned that early.

  “Well, couldn’t you get ear plugs or something?” he demanded, squeaking, nearly wetting his bladder when the Alpha shoved him aside and rudely invited himself in.

  “Hey!” he protested, but the stranger studied his space, finally walking to his wall full of holes.

  “What were you planning on doing?” the guy had the gall to ask.

  Didn’t this Alpha know how ridiculous he looked, holding onto his pink collared Pom, cradling it like a precious baby
? It was as if the Alpha couldn’t decide whether he should try to look harmless or menacing.

  “Excuse me, don’t you realize how rude you’re being?”

  Oh hell. Walker’s tongue would be the death of him, even Terry had said so.

  “Rude? I finally have a day off, and your drilling is ruining that.”

  “Look, dude,” he began, but the Alpha interrupted him again.

  “Butch, Alpha of the River West pack.”

  “You’re an Alpha, named Butch?” Walker ought to stop, revise his next words, because the River West pack was the dominant animal group in this territory.

  Hell, the wolves even made it a point to vet all newcomers who weren’t tourists. Walker had passed the test easily enough, although Abel, the werewolf enforcer who interviewed him, had raised his brows at the name of Walker’s former pack. The last thing Walker wanted was to be on the radar of the local wolf pack, and yet here he was, aggravating their Alpha.

  “Ha-ha,” Butch said dryly. “You can’t believe the number of times I’ve heard that joke.”

  “I don’t think anyone has the guts to joke around with you. Have you looked at yourself lately? You’re built like a goddamn tank.”

  That and the fact he recalled hearing rumors that Butch was no pushover, that this particular Alpha had been holding onto his rank and growing his pack for over fifteen years. Butch didn’t seem that old though. Did Butch become Alpha at a young age?

  Why was he so curious anyway?

  “I’m not sure whether to take that as an insult or compliment.” The Alpha then lowered his dog to the floor and lifted the drill, and Walker backed up. Oh God. What was he thinking, tangling with the Alpha of the River West pack?

  Chapter Two