Authors: Jane Perky
Raging Passions Books
Win an Alpha
© April 2016 by Jane Perky
All rights reserved:
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
Win an Alpha
The lucky winner of the Win-An-Alpha lottery is… lucky number 777.
Omega shifter Rhys is lonely and sick of ending up with arrogant werewolves who only want his purity and ability to carry pups. On a whim, Rhys buys a ticket to the lottery. He has a one in a million chance to win, but once the lots are drawn, Rhys has no other choice but to present himself to his mate.
Never in his wildest dreams did Rhys expect to howl for an Alpha who wants all of him—body, heart and soul. Is Romeo the man he’d been searching for all his life, the Alpha who’d complete him?
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Table of Contents
Win an Alpha
By Jane Perky
“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you, Rhys?” Alpha werewolf prick Joey Jensen asked.
To complete the effect of a reluctant heartbreaker, Joey reached over the table for Rhys’ hands. Going for the performance worthy of an Oscar, Rhys noticed with annoyance, but he knew better. Men like Joey only saw weaker Omegas like him as conquests and most of the shifters in town knew Rhys remained a virgin, despite reaching his twenty-second birthday two weeks ago.
“I get it. I hope you find The One’ for you,” Rhys couldn’t keep the bite out of his voice, but it didn’t matter.
Cocky bastards like Joey couldn’t tell the difference between sarcasm and genuine sympathy, given Joey thought of himself as God’s gift on earth. What possessed Rhys to go out with him in the first place anyway?
Wait. Rhys knew exactly why. All his life, someone made decisions for him. He’d grown up in his parents’ pack and everyone expected him to take a mate from the pack. Heck, his parents set him up with blind dates all his life, but all of them only wanted two things from Rhys—his virginity and ability to get pregnant. Never mind Rhys as a person. Oh no, these domineering shifters wanted to be the first in him and breed him. Period.
Happily-ever-after? Questionable. Sue Rhys, but he was a romantic through and through. Once Joey heard Rhys wouldn’t give up his purity to a stranger without being officially mated, Joey went straight for the exit route—no surprise there.
“All the best too, bud.”
Bud? Seriously? That was going to be Joey’s parting line?
Apparently it was. The lone werewolf rose from his seat, gave Rhys a clumsy kiss on the cheek, before heading out of the café. Rhys wasn’t surprised to see Joey flirting with the first young man he saw. Well, to be fair, Joey wasn’t the worst guy Rhys had been with. Larry, the last Alpha Rhys went out with, broke up with him through a text message.
Chivalry and manners no longer existed these days, apparently.
Seeing his phone vibrating and the name flashing on the screen, Rhys sighed. He debated picking the call up, but it was better to have this done and over with. “Hello, mom.”
“How did it go? Last I remember, Joey and you hit it off from the first date.”
That was before I learned Joey only wanted to be the first man to plow me in bed.
Rhys didn’t tell her that though. “It went badly. I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again. He was cheating on me with a werehare.”
Rhys felt a little bad for lying, but he was sick of being told there was something wrong with him for not wanting to settle.
“Frisky animals,” his mother muttered. “Forget Joey, Rhys. I found another match. You’ll really like this—”
“You don’t need to, mom,” Rhys interrupted. “I have another date coming up.”
“Really? With who?” Suspicion crept into her voice, but Rhys didn’t blame her. He knew his parents only wanted what was best for him—that included grandchildren, pups to fuss over, but they’d have to wait a little longer.
“You don’t know him. It’s a surprise, but I won’t tell you until I’m sure of him.”
“Alright then, love you, Rhys.”
Relieved she cut the call, Rhys sipped his tea—which had now gone cold. Joey liked hearing his damn voice far too much. Not wanting to spoil the rest of his morning, Rhys ordered a fresh pot of tea and grabbed the morning paper from the rack. He scanned through the news, wondering what he’d do next to explain the truth to his parents. Hard to tell them to stop interfering in his life, especially—
Rhys lost his train of thought when an ad leapt back at him from the page. He squinted at it, thinking it must be some kind of practical joke.
“All you lonely Omegas out there, are you tired of the constant heart breaks and disappointments in finding The One? Let chance be your guide,” Rhys read the ad out loud, feeling foolish.
What the hell was this? Someone’s idea of a practical joke?
Rhys read on.
“Buy a ticket to the Win-An-Alpha lottery and your name might just be drawn. Who knows, you might be the lucky lad or laddie to win a sexy hunk of a dreamboat Alpha mate!”
Realizing he muttered the words out loud, Rhys glanced at the café, but no one seemed to care. A quick Google search on his phone confirmed the Win-An-Alpha lottery wasn’t some kind of scam. According to the testimonials on the site, 99% of the winners were happy and on their way to having a family.
“What happened to the 1%?” Rhys mumbled.
According to the page, the next Alpha was Romeo Rivera. Was this guy using a pseudonym? Still, Rhys had to admit the guy in the photo was one gorgeous growly specimen of an Alpha. He couldn’t believe he scrolled all the way down to the rules. The winner had to submit to his Alpha within the next twenty-four hours or another winner would be chosen.
No ‘buts’ and changing minds, this lottery wasn’t for the faint of heart or cowards. All participants who bought a lottery ticket needed to sign a mating contract, ensuring no funny business ensued.
If I win, I’ll have no choice but to give my body and heart to a stranger, but what are my chances of winning… one in a million?
Rhys let out a nervous chuckle.
Lately, he’d been stressed out at work and in his personal life. Some harmless fun was exactly what he needed. Besides, according to the site, hundreds, heck, thousands of Omegas bought lottery tickets and Rhys had never won anything in life. Judging by his status—virgin, twenty-three and single, it wasn’t hard to see Lady Luck wasn’t on his side.
Impulse decision made, Rhys tucked the paper under his arm and headed out. Excited, Rhys got into his car and drove up to the nearest town that sold tickets.
“That’s a dollar fifty for one ticket and I’d need you to sign your name here, young man,” the elderly shifter at the ticket booth said.
“What? Really? I thought you guys were kidding.”
The old man gave Rhys such a severe and disapproving look Rhys started to feel like a chastised pup who knew no better.
“Let me tell you this, young Omega. We take the mating business very seriously here.”
“Well, me too, but life’s full of disappointments.” Rhys took the pen and signed his name with a flourish. The old man patted his hand, nodding, as if they came to some mutual understanding.
“I wish you all the best, young man.”
“Do you say that to all the Omegas you’ve sold tickets to?” Rhys couldn’t help but ask.
“Only to those who desperately want to find love.”
Him? Desperately looking for love? The old man must be mistaking him for something else.
Still, Rhys knew he wasn’t bad to look at. Rhys had blond hair, blue eyes and still maintained his lean form since his teens. He was the perpetual boy-next-door. Romeo Rivera was certainly easy on the eyes. Although Rhys could see hardness there, he liked a little cruelty and could tell from the tiny photo Romeo was the kind of man who could give Rhys what he wanted—no, needed.
He shivered, thinking of the strength in Romeo’s well-honed and muscled body. Could imagine the power in those arms as Romeo tugged Rhys close for a mind-numbing kiss and whisper the one word Rhys had been waiting to hear all his life.
Jesus. Rhys shouldn’t be this turned on from one picture of a guy he’d never ever meet anyway. Besides, fantasy never translated into real life no matter how many paranormal gay romance novels Rhys read.
Why did it feel like Rhys just signed his soul to the devil?
Well, it didn’t matter. In a few days, Rhys would forget all about this. In a week, they’d draw the lucky number and Rhys doubted it would be him. He had a fun laugh, forgot all about Joey and that was all that mattered.
Romeo was about to get on his bike and ride—to wherever his mood took him, when his phone beeped. Frowning, he opened the message and sucked in a breath, and let out a stream of creative curses.
Fuck, but he’d forgotten he’d entered that crazy lottery a month ago because he needed some fast cash for bike repairs. Romeo debated his options. At that point in time, it seemed like a good idea. Harmless, because Romeo didn’t mind sex, lots of casual sex.
He’d just tell the sponsors it didn’t work out. Skipping on the gig wasn’t an option, because Romeo knew the shifter organization that funded the lottery. While Romeo answered to no one and wasn’t interested in forming his own pack, he wouldn’t piss these assholes off. They held clout and there were certain battles Romeo couldn’t fight alone.
On cue, his phone rang.
“Congratulations, Mr. Rivera. In case you didn’t manage to catch the show last night, lucky number 777 is your mate,” the bubbly female voice on the other end said.
His younger self would tell the Win-An-Alpha organization to fuck off, but he had better sense than that now. Besides, Romeo entered his name in the lottery because he’d felt that tug of loneliness too. His wolf liked random fucks, but these days, they both started to feel the empty hole in their soul—the place a mate could fill right up.
“So how does this work? Does this woman or man come to me, or I go to him?”
“We have the honeymoon suite in the Grand Paws in Chicago ready,” the voice chirped.
He let out a whistle. Flea-bitten motels aside, Romeo had never stayed in any hotel with stars before, and the Grand Paws had five.
“We win a fancy honeymoon too?” Romeo asked. The honeymoon must be courtesy of Paws Corp.—an evil soul-sucking multi-national corporation, in Romeo’s opinion. They made everything, from laptops, phones to running fast-food joints and grocery chains.