The icy fingers of the crisp, Wednesday morning air pinched Lincoln’s face. Standing near the edge of the ledge at Walker’s Pointe, he gazed over the Walker’s Run territory and down at the sleepy little town of Maico below. Calm, serene. Peaceful.
After all of the violence he’d seen and been required to do, Lincoln never expected to experience those feelings again. Yet, here he was, in the most idyllic place he would ever set his paw upon, daydreaming about accepting Brice’s invitation to make Maico, the gentle town in the heart of the Walker’s Run territory, his home.
But what would Lincoln do if he stayed?
A career soldier accustomed to watching tanks rolling past instead of ordinary trucks and cars and motorcycles, he lacked any useful civilian skills.
“This is my favorite place.” Brice stepped beside Lincoln.
“I can see why.” Lincoln deeply inhaled fresh, crisp mountain air. “It feels...”
“Like home?”
“Surreal. I’m not used to all this tranquility.”
“It’s not hard to adapt to Walker’s Run. This place settles in your blood and roots in your soul. Makes it difficult for some wolfans to leave.”
“I’m not here to settle down.” Lincoln stuffed his hands into the pockets of the thick jacket he’d received in the shipment of clothes from headquarters.
“When we met in Romania, I saw the same restlessness and longing in your eyes that I had felt before returning home. Even then, you were growing tired of the Program. There’s nothing wrong with wanting out.”
“I don’t want out.” Not yet.
The news today from Colonel Llewellyn did not deviate from the script he’d given Lincoln every time he’d called. No one had seen or heard from Dayax, and his body had not been found.
This time, though, the Colonel had spoken the grim truth that the boy might never be found, alive or dead. Lincoln still had to try. “I can’t help Dayax if I’m not a Dogman.”
“My friends in the Woelfesenat agree.”
Lincoln’s entire body switched to running on silent mode. The breath stilled in his lungs. The steady thump of his heart quieted to a whisper. Even his thoughts paused as he watched and waited for Brice to continue.
“A new Dogman team will soon join the human forces in Taifa. When they deploy, so will you. Your only mission will be to find Dayax and the other missing children.”
The tiny hairs at the base of Lincoln’s neck began to rise. “I sense a but coming.”
“You have to pass the readiness evaluation.”
“Damn!” The test was a three-week assault of a recruit’s senses, strength and willingness to die for the Program.
“Since you’re already a Dogman, I convinced them to simply put you through the final physical obstacle course.”
“Fair enough.” As a weight lifted from Lincoln’s shoulders, cold determination settled in his gut. Weeks of rehab had kept him physically fit, but he needed more practice shifting. No longer could he simply shuck off his clothes and go wolf. Now he had to carefully remove his leg or risk disintegrating the state-of-the-art prosthetic prototype the Program had entrusted to him.
“I bargained with the Woelfesenat to grant you one last mission, Linc. But I couldn’t stop your mandatory medical retirement. Whether or not you come home with Dayax, your career as a Dogman will be over.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done.” He was more than humbled by it, actually. Lincoln had seen the impact of Brice’s hard-hitting negotiating skills in Romania. Brokering peace in the midst of pure, unadulterated hatred required more than talent. One needed divine favor.
Something Brice seemed to have in spades and wasn’t stingy in dispensing.
“After you find him, what then?”
“Hadn’t really thought much further than that.”
“You need to, for yourself and Dayax.”
Lincoln returned his gaze to the tranquil community below.
Home. The word pulsed through his mind.
Perhaps his pain medication had skewed his senses. Southwest Texas had been his home. And the Big Bend pack had always buzzed with activity and competition to be the best.
There was nothing inherently wrong with that mind-set. It had propelled his mother forward in her career as a Texas Ranger and had kept his father alive as an undercover DEA agent. It had also formed the foundation of Lincoln’s career. Unfortunately, no one could stay at the top forever. And his topple had caused his best friend her life.
“If the Woelfesenat allows me to bring Dayax to the States, would someone in Walker’s Run be interested in fostering him?” Lincoln would be able to keep tabs on the boy if he was adopted into Brice’s pack.
“What about yourself?”
“I’m not father material,” Lincoln said. Dayax deserved so much more than a washed-up Dogman for a father.
“Are you sure about that?”
It was the one thing Lincoln had utter confidence in.
Angeline paused beside the babbling river, careful not to get her paws wet. A slight breeze ruffled her fur. The thick coat locked in her body heat against the cold night. A near full moon shimmered in the dark, velvety expanse of the sky.
There was a time when she’d eagerly anticipated the coming of a full moon. She never had to worry about finding a sex partner, full moon or otherwise. Usually she hooked up with a customer from the restaurant for a bit of fun.
A few years ago she’d picked the wrong man and narrowly avoided an unimaginable predicament. Still, the near miss caused her stomach to turn whenever she remembered the incident. Since then she’d toned down her flirtations and vowed never to have casual sex with a man she didn’t know and trust.
That had become a complication in and of itself. Wolfan males could become possessive, especially of a female sex partner. However, some had managed to forge successful full moon partnerships. The caveat was that the male and female did not engage socially nor did they have human style sex. Their full moon rendezvous and romps were always in wolf form, thereby eliminating the development of emotional attachments.
Angeline had yet to find such a partner.
It would probably help if she actually started looking for one. Her throat grew tight. Lowering her head, Angeline stretched her neck to lap the water. The icy wetness dislodged the lump of regret and sloshed it all the way down into the pit of her stomach.
She had a good life. Maybe not the one she once wanted, but good nevertheless.
Backing away from the stream, she padded along the path worn by many sleepless nights. Though they had experienced trouble in the recent past, the Walker’s Run territory was generally safe. Sentinels were never more than a howl away, especially inside the wolf sanctuary. But Angeline preferred to stick to the woods behind her home. Easy access to a quiet place to shift and run at a moment’s notice was one reason some unmated Wahyas resided at the Chatuge View Apartments.
Without any thought to time, Angeline meandered along the winding trail, trying to sort out the mixed feelings Lincoln’s arrival had caused.
For the period they had dated, not once had Tanner mentioned his interest in the Program. When he’d broken the news, Tanner had even admitted that, deep in his soul, he believed Angeline to be his true mate. But he wanted to be a Dogman more than he wanted her love.
Lincoln had also left behind everything he’d known and loved to live the life Tanner had coveted. Facing mandatory retirement, Lincoln was forced to watch his dreams slip through his fingers. Sometimes in his eyes Angeline caught a glimpse of the horrified sadness of seeing all he’d sacrificed for being so easily dismissed.
He seemed more disappointed than angry, which surprised her. She’d always imagined Dogmen to be selfish, arrogant adrenaline junkies.
Lincoln displayed none of those traits. It would be better for her if he had. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so drawn to him if he’d acted like a pigheaded jerk.
Making the turn toward the apartments, Angeline lifted her nose. Lincoln’s scent drifted on the currents. Sensing no advancement in her general direction, she presumed that he must be sitting on his balcony. He would see her coming home, and might even consider that it would be a good idea for them to run the woods together. It wouldn’t be. Other than being neighborly, she should have no interest in the Dogman.
Her body disagreed. A solid mountain of muscles, Lincoln was as sexy as a wolfan male could be. With a full moon coming, she was tempted to give in to its aphrodisiac effects with him.
Even in her wolf form, Angeline’s lips warmed and tingled. She’d had her fair share of kisses, but none had stayed with her the way Lincoln’s kiss had.
The leisurely stroll quickly turned into a fast trot. Despite her mind’s stern attempt to slow the pace, her paws maintained a steady rhythm. Only when she caught a flicker of movement through the bushes ahead did her canter ease to a stop.
Lincoln removed the long, slender tote slung across his shoulder, peeled off the cover and opened the folding chair. Slipping off his untied boots, he yanked the sweatshirt over his head and dropped it on the ground. The silvery shimmer of moonlight glanced off his sculpted chest. He shook off the cold and unzipped his pants, sliding them from his hips and allowing them to puddle at his bare feet. Or rather, actual bare foot and one artificial.
Protruding from a nest of dark hair, his long cock bounced free and easy. Angeline’s mouth watered for the salty, masculine taste of him. She could blame the lustful desire on the nearing full moon, but the accusation would be a lie.
Despite his career choice, she wanted him, even though she wished otherwise.
Careful to stay downwind, she watched him ease into the chair and begin the laborious process of removing his leg. His movements were slow and methodical, and it hurt her heart to understand that he would never be able to simply shuck his clothes and run free. Not if he wanted a leg to stand on when he returned.
With one hand, he lifted his thigh and carefully worked off the prosthetic cup. Each time he grimaced, Angeline did, too.
He laid the artificial limb on top of his clothes. Lincoln’s naturally bronzed skin appeared several shades darker that the flesh-colored stocking covering his stump. Carefully, he began the tedious process of removing the protective sleeve.
A new ache rose in her heart at the independence he’d lost and sacrificed.
She wanted to go to him, to help so the task wouldn’t be so difficult. Instead, she remained perfectly still. He’d resented her assistance with the groceries. How much more upset would he be if she tried to help him now?
The leg and sleeve wrapped in his clothes and stowed beneath the chair, Lincoln eased out of the chair and onto the ground. Balancing his weight on one knee and both hands, he shifted.
His wolf, black with glints of gold dust on the tips of his fur, looked as magnificent as the man. He took a few wobbly steps, but then his stride grew more confident. He lifted his snout and scented the air. Since she stayed downwind, he didn’t pinpoint her current location but he quickly picked up her scent trail when she’d started her run. He stared in the direction she’d gone, then darted down the same path.
There could’ve been any number of reasons as to why he’d chosen to track Angeline. But that he did made her happier than it ever should have.