âDayax!â
Having shifted into his wolf form under cover of night, Lincoln Adams eased farther into the dilapidated two-story building, shot-up and abandoned long before he and his team had arrived in Taifa, a war-torn village in southern Somalia and home to the Yeeyi pack.
Wahyas, an ancient species of wolf shifters who were caught in the middle of escalating human conflicts, faced a greater likelihood of unintentional exposure. To minimize the risk, the Woelfesenat, the secretive international wolf council, developed elite Special Forces teams called Dogmen. Their primary function: safeguarding Wahyas in harmâs way while aiding human allies in their worldwide peacekeeping endeavors.
Since their arrival in Taifa six months ago, Lincolnâs Dogman team had been providing support to UN forces defending the area against militant insurgents and administering humanitarian aid.
Dayax, an orphaned wolfling whoâd made himself somewhat of a daily pest at their base of operation, had disappeared from his village during the guerillasâ morning raid.
Tonight, Lincolnâs mission, though not officially sanctioned, nonetheless fell within the scope of his sworn duties. Still, heâd chosen to conduct the search and rescue alone.
Sensing movement behind him, Lincoln spun around, baring his teeth, and issued a low, threatening growl. Five dark, stealthy figures covertly closed in on the building.
Damn ass-wipes.
Affection flooded his wolfan body while he watched his team, in their human forms, fall into position as they had done on countless missions. Handgun drawn, Lila Raycen quietly and quickly entered the building, snapped a quick look around and then gave a hand signal to her teammates. Her gaze sweeping the street, she whispered, âSorry, Capân. All for one and all that jazz.â