were the ones that tugged her heart strings.
Damn, she was too soft.
“I have a really busy day,” Angeline lied. She didn’t have to be at the restaurant until the afternoon. “See you around.”
Locking the door, she hoped her heart took notice. Lincoln was no different than Tanner. Dogmen lived for the Program. Nothing and no one else mattered. And she would never put herself through that turmoil ever again.
Lincoln stepped into the Walker’s Run Resort and shook off the cold. A large fireplace in the rustic seating area crackled with flames, and red roses and hearts decorated the main lobby. A Happy Valentine’s Day banner hung behind the guest services counter. Coming from a part of the world where conflict and violence had become commonplace, he found the commercialization of love off-putting.
Intentionally early for his meeting, Lincoln walked to a seating area near the fireplace and sat in a high-backed leather chair to watch everyone coming and going. Brice had invited him to meet the security team leaders and unofficially consult on the upgrade process of the pack’s well-being. He’d also given Lincoln access to the resort’s state-of-the-art gym, which he planned to use to continue his fitness training.
Two sentinels dressed as resort employees casually patrolled the lobby. Outside, Lincoln had noted at least three sentinels working valet and four handling bell service. Lincoln expected those numbers would increase, depending on the number of non-pack wolfans registered for rooms.
He turned his attention to the three offices with interior glass windows that faced the lobby. Two offices were dark, but the middle one had the blinds up and the light on. Cassie sat at a desk, her back straight and her fingers tapping on a computer keyboard.
Hands paused and she turned, looking directly at him.
He gave a slight nod as she waved.
A few minutes later, limping, Brice walked slowly out of the corridor. Cassie’s attention turned to him.
Brice gave her a wink, which broadened her smile. Nearly an entity in and of itself, the palpable love bouncing between them was a phenomenon Lincoln had never witnessed.
His parents loved each other and loved him, in their own way. But their mateship, and their family life, had been centered on being the best of the best. Life was a competition to win and affection merely distracted one from the ultimate end goal.
If Lincoln had remembered what his family had taught, he wouldn’t have allowed his emotions to lead him and his team into a trap. While in Walker’s Run, he needed to stay focused on his mission and not be led astray by indulging in errant emotions and human customs, or he would screw up his chance to get back on active duty and lose the only opportunity he had to find Dayax.
“Tristan’s office is on the third floor,” Brice said, approaching.
Lincoln matched Brice’s stride but remained a half step behind him. As progressive as some wolfan packs were, a natural pecking order remained. Brice, the Alpha-in-waiting and a direct descendant of the first Alpha of Walker’s Run, deserved his respect.
The Wahyas of Walker’s Run had done well in choosing an Alpha family who, through the generations, had remained committed to serving the pack rather than accumulating wealth and power.
Not that the Alpha family didn’t have both. The difference being that they shared the wealth and utilized the power for the benefit of the pack.
All able-bodied adult pack members were expected to work and contribute to the pack’s finances—a tithe of sorts to the Walker’s Run Co-operative that funded their health care, education, business start-ups and things for the pack’s overall enjoyment. The Co-op’s Family Park, for instance, included a baseball field, picnic pavilions and an entertainment stage. Unfortunately, the stage itself had been destroyed a few months back by a diversionary explosion in a domestic power struggle between a pack member and an outsider.
It might be easy for wolfan rogues to mistake the peace-loving Walker’s Run pack as being ripe for a takeover. However, Lincoln had seen enough of the world to recognize that wolfans and humans who fought to defend their families and their ideals could become the deadliest forces on the planet.
They stopped at the brass elevators rather than continuing to the wide, curved hardwood stairs.
“I can make it up the steps,” Lincoln said, trying to keep the strain from his voice. If he couldn’t convince Brice of his fitness, he’d have no chance swaying the medical review board.
“Be my guest,” Brice replied without censure. “But I can’t. Cold weather wreaks havoc on my bad leg. It’s a struggle to stand and walk today. Climbing the stairs will likely do me in.”
Ding! The doors slid open and Brice stepped inside the elevator. Lincoln joined him.
“I meant what I said last night before you left.” Brice held Lincoln’s gaze as the elevator began to climb. “Regardless of when you retire, I hope you’ll consider settling down in the Walker’s Run territory.”
“I appreciate the invitation,” Lincoln said. “It’s hard to look that far ahead when all I can think about is that scared wolfling waiting for me to keep my promise.” A new pack, a new home, a new family to keep him safe: That was what Lincoln had vowed to find for Dayax. Until Lincoln fulfilled that oath, he couldn’t begin to think of his own future.
The elevator doors opened. Instead of guest rooms, the third floor housed offices and conference rooms.
He followed Brice to an office with a large interior glass window looking into the corridor. No matter how civilized they became, wolfans didn’t like being boxed in.
The wolfan sitting behind the desk and the one leaning next to him with his palm flat on the desk blotter studying the computer screen looked up as he and Brice entered.
“Lincoln, this is Tristan Durrance, our chief sentinel.” Brice waved his hand toward the blond man behind the desk beginning to stand.
“Finally, a face to go with the voice.” Grinning, Tristan extended his hand in the customary greeting that Wahyas who worked closely with humans had adopted. “Sorry about the mix-up with the key.”
“No worries. Angeline got me oriented and I’ve settled in.” Lincoln pocketed the key Tristan handed to him.
“Great.” Tristan hiked his thumb toward the man beside him. “This is Reed Sumner, one of our lieutenants.”
Like Shane, Reed greeted him with an obligatory nod of acknowledgment rather than a handshake. After pleasantries were exchanged, they discussed the recent run-ins with illegal game poachers inside the pack’s protected forest and a series of unrelated attacks by revenge-seeking wolfans. In Lincoln’s experience, their concerns were generally consistent with what most first-world packs dealt with from time to time.
“It would be a great help if you ran through our security protocols and advised where and how to tighten our current measures,” Tristan said.
Reed cut his eyes at Lincoln.
He needed to be careful to avoid stepping on the lieutenant’s paws.
“Sounds like Reed has a good handle on things,” Lincoln told Tristan, then turned
