Tamed by the She-Wolf

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Tamed by the She-Wolf Page 13

by Kristal Hollis


  “Only in my dreams.”

  “Lincoln!” Sierra waved madly across the room.

  “See? You have a new best friend.”

  “I hope so.” Lincoln’s hand trailed down Angeline’s arm and brushed her fingers. Reluctance filled his eyes. Still, he obeyed the birthday girl’s summons, treating her like the princess he’d professed her to be.

  An undeniable fondness welled inside Angeline.

  “He really knows how to handle kids.” Madelyn walked over to Angeline. “Not what I expected from a Dogman.”

  Nor what Angeline had presumed, either. A Dogman’s likelihood of stealing her heart rivaled a snowball’s chance of surviving the gas fireplace in Lincoln’s apartment that she coveted. But if she wasn’t careful, a man who played games with children, made them laugh and gave them his undivided attention just might beat the odds.

  * * *

  Angeline’s scent filled the truck. Each breath, her essence, invaded Lincoln’s senses, drawing him deeper into a life he coveted but could not yet claim.

  “You’re really good with kids,” she said, gazing out the window.

  “I’ve had a lot of experience. During my down time on deployment, I gave out treats and played games with any kids I found.”

  “That’s so sweet.” Angeline laid her hand on his thigh. Suddenly, he didn’t need the heat blowing out of the air vents.

  “It’s actually pretty sad.” The gravity of what many of the kids faced had a profound effect on Lincoln. “Their world was falling apart. I just wanted to give them something that resembled a normal childhood. At least, what I thought might be normal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m an only child and my parents never gave me treats or played games with me. For them, life is a competition. They placed a lot of pressure on me to be the best.”

  “So you never got to be a kid.” Angeline’s tone mirrored the heaviness he felt when remembering his childhood.

  “I guess not.”

  “My mom died when I was six.” She stared straight ahead. Her hands clenched in her lap. “My dad chopped off my hair, threw out my dolls and dresses, and I had to wear my brothers’ hand-me-downs. He also sold our piano even though I begged him to keep it. Mom had been teaching me to play. She loved music. I do, too.”

  “He didn’t want any reminders of her?”

  “He didn’t want me to be weak.” Angeline anchored her arms over her chest, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her green sweater. “A mugger killed my mother. She was human and my Dad thought if she’d been Wahya, she would’ve scented the danger and would’ve had a better chance of defending herself. So he became a drill sergeant instead of simply being our father.”

  “He didn’t want to lose you, too.” Lincoln couldn’t imagine the depths of a father’s fear. Dayax wasn’t his son, yet sometimes the uncertainty of the wolfling’s safety and well-being nearly ate him up inside.

  “I worry that my brothers will become like him.”

  Angeline looked at Lincoln. “So I make sure their kids get plenty of fun time with me.”

  Slowing to stop at the red light, Lincoln squeezed her hand. “Your nieces and nephews are lucky to have you in their lives.”

  “You were great with them. Tonight and when we went sledding.” She offered him a small smile. “I’m lucky to have you as a neighbor.”

  “Really?” He snickered. “When I arrived, you weren’t exactly thrilled.”

  “I only saw you as a Dogman, then.” She hesitated. “In college, I had a bad experience with one.”

  “Did he hurt you?” If he did, Lincoln would go to his grave without revealing Tanner Phillip’s last words.

  “No, no. We were really good together.” Angeline’s voice cracked.

  The sadness that suddenly enveloped her hurt Lincoln’s heart.

  “He simply chose to be a Dogman,” she continued, “rather than become my mate.”

  “Angeline—”

  “Don’t.” She waved off further discussion. “Ancient history.”

  The light turned green and Lincoln continued driving. Amicable silence filled the space between them. Though he sensed no real tension from Angeline, she appeared lost in her thoughts.

  Lincoln teetered with the decision to tell Angeline the truth about her Dogman. But what would the man’s final words of longing and regret do to her? Rip out her heart all over again?

  Lincoln wouldn’t do that to her.

  She’d called the relationship ancient history. Maybe Lincoln shouldn’t resurrect ghosts while dealing with his own present demons.

  Dayax remained unaccounted for and it could be another week or more before Lincoln returned to Munich to take the readiness test for active duty. He missed the wolfling terribly. Lila had warned him about becoming emotionally attached to the young orphan, but Dayax had burrowed into Lincoln’s heart and he simply couldn’t rest until the wolfling was safe.

  Once he’d located and retrieved Dayax, Lincoln had no idea what would happen next. Brice had suggested that Lincoln adopt the orphan wolfling. After all, once the mission was completed, Lincoln would no longer be a Dogman.

  Having been a soldier for the last fifteen years, he would have a hard enough time learning to cope long-term in the civilized world. Unmated and with no place to call home, how could he even think of raising a young boy?

  Still, the time spent with Angeline and her family had brought his longing for family sharply into focus. Angeline had a natural ability in handling the kids. She listened. She supported him. And she responsibly indulged their needs to simply be kids. She would be great with Dayax, too.

  But Lincoln had no business making that leap. Not even in his dreams.

  “It’s still early,” Angeline said as he parked. “Do you have plans with Damien?”

  “No.” Although Lincoln had been the team leader, he and Damien weren’t exactly friends. They had different ideas of fun and had very little in common. “Why?”

  “I need to burn off the calories from those cupcakes.” Angeline opened the passenger door, climbed out and waited for him at the front of the truck.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “It’s a beautiful night.” The sinking sun tinged the cloudless sky with streaks of red and orange. Although the temperatures had warmed to the midsixties, it would come down a few degrees after nightfall.

  “There is a nice trail in the woods behind the apartments,” she continued. “Care to join me?”

  She-wolves didn’t run with just any male. The moments of nudity and the vulnerability of the smaller female wolf in the presence of a larger, more dominant male required a lot of respect and a great deal of trust.

  “I’d love to,” Lincoln said.

  Their fur would keep them warm once they shifted, but their human forms would be subjected to the chill while they stripped down. The thought of seeing Angeline naked again caused his breathing to go wonky.

  Following her into the woods behind the apartment building might not be the smartest decision, but Lincoln did it all the same.

  She led him to a thick patch of evergreen bushes that provided some privacy in case someone looked out of an apartment window. Turning his back to her, Lincoln tried to concentrate on something other than the zipper sliding down her boots and the rustle of her jeans.

  Leaning against a tree, Lincoln removed the boot and sock from his good leg. Despite the lack of new snow, the ground felt ice-cold against his bared foot. His sweatshirt and T-shirt came off together. He shoved his jeans down his legs to his ankles and stepped out of them.

  No breeze wafted through the trees. Still, the crisp, chilled air nipped his bare skin. He sat on the ground, his buttocks clenching in protest at the cold, hard earth. Carefully, he removed the prosthetic and wrapped his clothes around the artificial limb to
protect it. Then he peeled off the protective sleeve covering his stump.

  Completely naked, he maneuvered into an on-all-fours position. Well, except for him, it was on-all-three since he no longer had his left knee.

  He looked over at Angeline. Crouched in a ready position, she gave him a soft smile.

  “Ready?”

  “I’ll give you a head start.”

  “What?”

  “You wanted a run, so run!” He growled the last word as he shifted.

  Angeline didn’t shift quite as quickly, so Lincoln watched her transform. Though the process took only a second, he glimpsed the soft, silvery glow engulfing her body before she turned into a beautiful wolf. Her fur remained the same rich auburn as her hair, and her eyes were just as strikingly blue. She had a tuft of white beneath her chin and down her slender neck, and white cuffs around her paws that looked like socks.

  Without hesitation, she launched from her perch and disappeared into the woods.

  Mine!

  The declaration drummed in his mind.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it in Angeline’s presence. Nor did he expect it would be the last.

  He’d connected with the real woman as easily as he had fallen for her photograph. But until he came clean about the past that linked them together, they couldn’t be anything more than friends.

  Lincoln also decided not to tell Angeline about his reinstatement to active duty. She’d said not knowing Tanner’s whereabouts or whether he was safe had been the worst kind of torture. Lincoln wouldn’t put her through the turmoil again.

  Once he returned from Somalia, then and only then would he tell her everything.

  Chapter 15

  Heart pounding, Angeline bounded down the mile-long trail. Her paws barely touched the cold, hard ground before propelling her forward again.

  Dogmen were competitive by nature and conditioning. Winning was held in the highest regard. If racing against a fully able-bodied Dogman, she would lose without a substantial head start. Lincoln, with only three legs, had still given her the lead. Any other she-wolf might’ve foolishly believed the race would be easily won.

  Angeline doubled her efforts. Though she couldn’t hear Lincoln coming, she sensed him closing the distance.

  Her instinct had become highly attuned to Lincoln’s presence. And her thoughts often either dwelled on moments they had shared or obsessed about when she would see him again.

  There were a lot of reasons as to why they often sought out each other’s company. Only one frightened her—the possibility that they were true mates.

  She had loved Tanner with all of her being and his rejection had nearly broken her. Never had she imagined the possibility of wanting to bond so intimately with another again.

  With Tristan, Angeline had felt a kinship to him closer than the one she had with her brothers. He had actually understood her and encouraged her to nurture the things important to her.

  Lincoln also seemed to sense the layers no one else saw in her. She hadn’t told him about her secret career as a songwriter yet, but she wanted him to know.

  Ever since Tristan had claimed a mate, Angeline had scaled back the more personal aspects of their friendship. That had left a big, gaping hole in her life. One that in a very short time, Lincoln had filled.

  Except with him, her feelings had quickly spread beyond the plateau of platonic friendship to become more emotionally intimate than she had anticipated.

  Now she had to figure out what to do about it.

  Following the well-worn path, she cut sharply to the left. The chilly air ruffled through her fur, invigorating her senses. Lincoln’s scent grew stronger. Anticipation tightened her stomach as she wondered when and where he’d finally catch her.

  Angeline glimpsed movement between the thickets of trees ahead, but Lincoln’s scent remained behind her. Ordinarily someone else running the woods at the same time wouldn’t have bothered Angeline. Tonight, however, she wanted an exclusive run with Lincoln and an interloper would spoil the moment.

  “Angeline, stop!” Lincoln’s calm command echoed through her mind.

  Immediately, she halted. Although she didn’t detect any alarm in his telepathic communication, Angeline doubted he would use a ploy to win a race.

  “Don’t move.”

  Standing absolutely still, she felt the sudden rush of Lincoln’s essence pour into her. Strong, masculine, protective. A second later his sleek, powerful, sable-color wolf form soared over her. He landed about five feet in front of her, his front legs absorbing the impact of the landing before he touched down his hind right foot.

  Magnificent, she mused silently. Even missing a leg, Lincoln’s wolf form commanded respect.

  His soft chuckle tickled her mind. “Thanks, Angel.”

  Uh-oh. She needed to keep a better handle on her thoughts. “What’s going on?”

  “We’ve got company.”

  About fifty feet ahead, a large brindle-colored wolf emerged from the shadows and blocked their path. Angeline didn’t immediately recognize the male wolfan, which meant he didn’t belong to the Walker’s Run pack.

  The unknown wolf trotted toward them, and she sensed a subtle tension creeping into Lincoln’s body.

  “What are you doing here, Damien?”

  “Same as you. Getting fresh air and exercise.”

  Damien stopped in front of Lincoln. The moonlight cast grotesque shadows on Damien’s face, distorting and exaggerating the appearance of the jagged scar down his cheek.

  “Angeline?” The look he gave her made the skin beneath her fur crawl. “You are absolutely stunning.”

  Angeline didn’t reply with the customary “thank you” since his compliment gave her an icky feeling that she wanted to wash off.

  Lincoln sidestepped, blocking Damien’s view of her.

  “Why don’t we go out and get a drink?” Damien continued to stare.

  “I’ll pass.” Working three nights a week at Taylor’s Roadhouse, Angeline didn’t want to spend her time off hanging out in a bar.

  “Rain check,” Lincoln confirmed.

  “Any suggestions on what I can do tonight? I’ve had a royally boring day.” There might’ve been an undertone of resentment in Damien’s response, but since Angeline didn’t know the man, she dismissed the thought.

  “Maico is pretty tame on Sundays.” And every other day, mostly.

  “I should’ve stayed in Miami.” Damien shook his head. “I’m gonna die of boredom here.”

  “I told you that I had plans with Angeline today.” Lincoln’s matter-of-fact tone held no sympathy for Damien’s little pity party. “Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to some of the sentinels. I’m sure they can plug you into all the exciting things Maico has to offer.”

  “Tomorrow it is, then.” Damien bumped past Lincoln.

  Not wanting Damien to do the same with her and spread his scent along her fur, Angeline stepped aside to let him pass. He continued on his way at a leisurely trot.

  “I feel a little bad for him.” Angeline stepped next to Lincoln. “He came to see you and I’ve been hogging your attention.”

  “Do not feel bad. I prefer your company to his.” Lincoln’s gaze remained fixed on the path behind them. “I’m not sure why Damien came to see me.”

  “Obviously, to spend time with you.” A brisk wind sifted through Angeline’s fur.

  “We weren’t close.”

  “Maybe the explosion changed things.”

  Both Lincoln and Damien had been injured and lost a colleague, although Lincoln likely felt the loss more sharply.

  He turned his muzzle toward Angeline, and the hard look in his eyes softened. “It certainly did.”

  Her heart fluttered and a flood of awareness caused her to shiver.

  “Cold?” Cautiously, he stepped closer
and lowered his snout.

  “Maybe.” Angeline leaned in, encouraging Lincoln to nuzzle her.

  His heat wrapped around her, sheltering her from the chill, and the gentle way he scented her made Angeline feel cherished. Burying her snout in the thick fur of his neck, she slowly and deeply inhaled his clean, woodsy scent, drawing part of him inside her with each breath. She missed this closeness, the ethereal connectedness of two souls merging.

  Before Lincoln, Angeline considered herself a smart woman. The inability to race back to her apartment and lock Lincoln out for good suggested a significant problem with her common sense.

  “We should head back.” Lincoln’s thoughts nudged her mind.

  He was right, of course, which made a little piece of her heart inexplicably sad.

  “I’ll race you,” she told him and then darted down the path toward the apartment building.

  No longer sensing him behind her, Angeline looked back to see Lincoln headed in the opposite direction.

  Boy, had she misread his signals.

  Setting her sights ahead, Angeline bolted home.

  * * *

  “You look awful.” Standing in the kitchen, squinty-eyed and sporting dark shadows beneath his lashes, Damien lifted one of the two large coffees from the cardboard drink holder in Lincoln’s hand.

  “Seen a mirror lately?” Lincoln dropped the bag filled with breakfast sandwiches and pastries onto the counter, popped the lid off his foam cup and swallowed a large gulp of dark, rich coffee.

  After the night he’d had, one cup would not be enough. Too bad he’d canceled the order for Angeline’s coffee. A late riser, she probably wouldn’t have been happy if he woke her, especially after he’d intentionally ditched her.

  Plucking an egg, cheese and bacon croissant from the bag, Damien straddled the kitchen bar stool. “I take it things didn’t go well with your angel after I left.”

  Damien was not wrong.

  Instead of accompanying Angeline home, Lincoln had chosen to finish his run alone. And he’d sensed the awful moment when Angeline had slammed the door on their growing closeness.

 

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