Tyler Locke Novels & Stories

Without physical evidence, his celebrity status was the only weapon heavy enough to shift the public tide. ‘Our top forward got rejected? Sending strength! You still have the whole pack, Tyler!’ ‘Collins doesn’t like weak alphas? Then why turn Tyler down?’ ‘Tyler is skating out to protect him! Ban anyone who speaks ill of Collins from this forum!’ ‘The footage is so dark, it looks like it was captured on a cheap surveillance unit. If it’s really Collins, why hasn't the blackmailer released the HD file?’ While the forums argued, Isabella yanked on Tyler’s jersey. “Uncle Tyler, what tape? Show me right now!”

Tyler moved immediately, and he grabbed the front of the guy’s shirt and slammed him back into the metal lockers hard enough that the sound cracked through the whole room. Lockers rattled, and someone yelled, but Tyler didn't stop. Tyler’s forearm pressed across the guy’s throat, and his teeth were bared in a snarl that didn’t sound human anymore. “Who gave you the right to touch the woman who belongs to me?” Tyler growled. “Any time you look at her for longer than a second, I will make sure you eat through a straw for a month.” The other player’s face had gone red, and he tried to push back, but Tyler was stronger and fully in the grip of the wolf.

He had a penchant for sneaking into places, and hearing the right things at the right time. Meanwhile T-Rex was a refugee player that had trained in basic police work in both his old and new life. It was originally his goal to become a highly-paid bodyguard for the wealthy. But he found that he had a real head for numbers, and ended up investigating financial crime instead. He was also in his late 20s, and was a beast of a man - tall, extremely muscular, and square-jawed. He looked like he could break people by accident. Locke was a former detective, and he had a whole rack of skills they needed, from surveillance to deductive logic. He was in his late 40s, and had graying blond hair. He was

he answered in a small voice that didn't sound like him at all. Confused about what he was aiming at, I asked, "What?" Tyler spun around so fast I didn't see it coming until I was trapped between him and the locker—my back pressed against the cool metal. He put his hand on the blue lockers on each side of my face; anger and pain filled his face. "He was going to rape you." His voice was barely a whisper, but I could hear him loud and clear. Finally, he looked up and his eyes locked with mine. "I can not let anything happen to you."