#tom garrow

“No.”

Marie smiled at him,the smile that said it was cute that he thought his opinion would dissuade herwhen what she knew was right and what he thought he knew was wrong.

“Marie, we don’t need to deliberately go around pissing onthe old packs,” Tom tried again, wishing that his wife wasn’t quite soself-assured as an Alpha. Their pack was relatively small and in a newlocation; they didn’t have the clout to go around treading on the tails of theold traditional packs.

“Yes,” Marie stated, patting his hand and turning her headback to the ring. Tom sighed and did the same, giving up on their conversation,or what had passed for it. The defending champion was a burly werewolf, builtsolid and tall. He had more than a few tattoos, emphasizing his scars ratherthan concealing them. He paced, partially shifted, waiting for the challenger.

The challenger was a stocky man, shorter than the otherwerewolf in the ring, but looking utterly at ease. It was hard for Tom topicture the man as the heir to one of the most prestigious packs, what with theman dressed in a pair of simple linen pants and nothing else. He startedstretching, ignoring the menacing growl the defender issued.

“Bell hasn’t rung yet, chap. Count your lucky stars.” Thechallenger looked up as he balanced on one foot, stretching his hamstrings.“You won’t be able to in a minute.”

The announcer was talking over the noisy crowd, but Tom’sattention was on the man that Marie wanted to get into their pack. Tom couldn’tunderstand why; Charleston had a pack already, was set to be an alpha—there wasno reason to join their pack at a lower rank.

“He’s all but been disowned,” Marie murmured softly, justfor him. Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Golden boy down there?” he asked, gesturing to the manwhose hands were manicured, his hair glossy and well-groomed, especially for afight.

“Charleston,” Marie emphasized his name, giving her husbanda scathing glance, not pleased with his ill-natured ribbing, “is gay.”

“So?” Tom asked, shrugging.

“So, his parents are a little too traditional. They want pups, fathered by him. He won’t do it.”

“Ah.” Tom felt guilt swell as he rethought his words. “Neverliked the closed-minded attitude of some of the older packs,” he said by way oftacit agreement. “But why is he here?” Their home was a far cry from the lightsof Paris and the mansion Tom just knew that Charleston had to grow up in.

“Why not? An ocean between him and his parents, theopportunity to go to a good school where they don’t own half the faculty… takeyour pick. Besides, his parents won’t have any right to approach him if his newalpha says he’s off-limits,” Marie said, flashing her teeth.

In the ring, the referee gave the count-down. Tom edged tothe front of his seat. Charleston hadn’t shifted, bouncing lightly on the ballsof his feet. Not shifting for a fight showed arrogance or confidence—or both.

The other wolf lunged, form shifting to something morehalf-wolf, half-human; large and furry with hands tipped with lethal claws anda maw of sharp teeth.

Then the wolf doubled over, Charleston snapping out asidekick as he dodged the sloppy move. The wolf rounded, and Charleston was tooclose to get another kick off. Tom winced as the man was taken down to thefloor, teeth snapping at his throat.

A moment later the half-shifted wolf was tossed violentlyinto the fencing, Charleston staggering upright, the fresh blood on his chestconcealing the wounds that were already knitting closed.

“Not bad,” he said, rolling his shoulders. A shiver crossedhis back, his form lengthening, his nails growing larger. “But it’s time to endthis.”

Tom wasn’t a fan of the sport. Two werewolves fighting eachother for the pleasure of the crowd held no appeal to him. But watchingCharleston, he felt a grudging respect for the other man. Most of the wolves hehad seen who liked cage-fighting were coarse and rough, angry and inelegant,utilizing the beast with no regard for finesse or style.

Charleston showed off his breeding, in the smooth way hecontrolled his shift, in the liquid movements that spoke of absolute comfort inhis skin. No turned werewolf could ever be as comfortable as one born, and hewas proof of just how comfortable one could be.

The other werewolf in the cage slashed and snarled, tryingto use brute force against the smaller werewolf but Charleston was having noneof it. He redirected the lunges, infuriating his opponent by not standingstill.

The defender was out-classed, and completely oblivious toit. Tom found himself on the edge of his seat when Marie laughed softly next tohim.

“I told you he was something, didn’t I?” she asked, and whenTom glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, she was watching him and notCharleston. Reluctantly, he found himself grinning back.

“I should have known better than to question your judgement,alpha,” he said, reaching over andgrabbing his wife’s hand, running his thumb over her wedding ring.

Her eyes flashed, and she leaned over to his ear. “Careful,love. I bite, and I still need to recruit our new enforcer.”

A roar from the crowd had Tom’s attention returning to thecage, where a bloodied Charleston stood over the prone figure of his opponent.

The French wolf accepted a towel and water bottle from thereferee as the door was opened, dumping the water over his bare chest andscrubbing at the worst of the blood clots. He was fully healed from the minorinjuries he had sustained.

Charleston seemed completely disinterested in the adorationof the crowd, brushing through them and heading to the locker room. Marie stoodup, tugging Tom up with her. “Let’s go, before he leaves,” she said.

The crowd was loud and obnoxious, but they knew an alphawhen they saw one, and most of them made room for Marie as she strolled throughthem. A few were too arrogant, but a show of teeth and a none-too-subtle growlfrom Tom had them re-evaluating their decision.

The locker-room stank of blood and wet wolf. Tom wrinkledhis nose, but Marie didn’t even flinch, striding around one corner to whereCharleston was in the process of showering off the sweat and blood thewaterbottle bath had missed.

“Charleston Sawyer?” she asked. Tom noticed that she usedhis new last name rather than his family name,

The man glanced up, his dark mane of hair plasteredhaphazardly to his face. “Leave me be,” he growled as he ran a hand through thescruff on his face, ensuring that there were no bits of gore hiding.

“My name is Marie Garrow,” Marie started, extending herhand, completely at ease with Charleston’s nudity.

“Don’t care,” Charleston said, turning his back and rinsingoff his hair. Tom could see a few scars gathered at the base of his neck,hidden from view during the fight. Someone was not fond of bending his neck.

“I’m not interested in siring pups. You and your mate canfuck off. Tell my parents it’s nice that they’re getting creative—your mate’snot bad—but I still don’t want pups and I don’t sleep with women. Don’t findthem attractive, don’t care for threesomes with them.”

Tom’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at his wife who wastrying to stifle a laugh, clearly amused at the idea of Tom being theequivalent of jail-bait for the gay wolf.

“I don’t particularly care to share my wife, nor do I likemen. Dicks don’t really do it for me,” Tom said after Marie remained silent fora few beats.

Charleston paused, turning back around, turning light grayeyes on Tom, disbelief etched into his expression. “So my parents didn’t sendyou here?” he asked, hands falling to his side. The water continued to sluiceover his chest, turning red as it ran down his hard body.

“Of course not,” Marie said, sniffing lightly. “I am alphaof the pack residing in Jericho. I do not heel at the command of anyone,” sheadded, leaning back against the half-wall surrounding the shower.

“My pack is relatively small—“ Charleston’s eyes narrowed,but she gave him her alpha look and he let he continue—“and I find myself inthe need for a good enforcer. I’ve seen you fight, I know your reputation.”

Charleston busied himself getting more soap from thedispenser on the wall, buying himself time to digest her words.

“No strings, Charleston. You can be with whoever you want,do whatever job—so long as it’s within the law—you want. No pups. No paradingaround for ‘suitable’ mates. I don’t run my pack like that. All I ask is thatyou, as enforcer, defend the pack. When someone breaks the rules, you help mecarry out justice. When challenged, you fight beside me, not just for me, butfor your pack, your own rights.”

Charleston shut the water off and stared at the wall for afew moments. “When an offer sounds too good to be true, it usually is,” hecommented, turning around and walking past Marie.

Tom stood in his way, and for a moment the two locked eyes,silently challenging each other. After a moment Tom stepped aside; he wasn’tlooking for a fight, and he had made his point.

“Tom, my husband, is my beta. This isn’t some isolated alphalooking to create a dictatorship by bringing in a brute to keep the peace,”Marie called out, not moving from her position.

Charleston grunted. “I expect that’s exactly what that kindof alpha would say,” he said, over the slamming of his locker. He came backaround, dressed in running shoes, a loose pair of sweats and a tight blacktank-top.

Marie turned to face him, resting her elbow on the wall. “Thencome see. As alpha, I grant you permission to come and go within my territorywithout advance notification as you please, and grant you this privilege indefinitely,without any conditions.” She ran a claw over her palm, letting a line of bloodwell up. “So I swear by the moon and on my blood, with my beta as witness.”

Tom wasn’t thrilled by Marie’s oath, but he dutifullyrecited his part. “I, Tom Garrow, do witness this oath and swear to uphold it.”He moved to Marie, collecting her blood on his index finger and swiping it overhis eyes, feeling the tingle of the wild magic as he did so.

Charleston hefted a duffle-bag onto one shoulder, fixingsomber eyes on the pair.

“We’ll see,” he finally said. Marie clenched her palm, herhealing abilities not as strong as Charleston’s.

“We leave for Jericho in the morning and we’re staying atthe Ramada. If you want a ride, find us there,” she said, inclining her head ina show of respect.

Charleston shifted, his gaze darting between them and the door.Marie gave him a sympathetic smile, and gestured for Tom to go.  Ignoring his instincts that told Tom not toturn his back on a threat like Charleston, the beta proceeded his alpha throughthe locker room exit.

“Do you really think he’ll come?” Tom asked quietly as theymade their way to the parking lot.

“Would I have offered if I didn’t?” Marie asked, tossing himthe keys as she pulled out her phone.