Page 6 of Reconditioning the Wolf

Sam nodded once. “We could go that route, and we still may.” With his attention back on the monitors, he muttered, “But Kontra and a few of us have been discussing other options.”

Madagascar wanted to ask what options, but Rueben growled, “Fuck. Who the hell are you contacting, Ishmael?” As he spoke, the bonded human stalked the few steps to Ishmael’s side.

Seeing what Rueben had noticed, Madagascar winced. Ishmael had his arms tucked between his knees and his chest, and he was focused on the device he was tapping on. Guilt filling him, he realized he should have been watching his mate.

Rueben reached down and swiped the device, causing Ishmael to cringe and lean away from the clearly annoyed man.

Cursing under his breath, Madagascar rushed to Ishmael’s side. Irritation mixed with his guilt, and he bit back his desire to snap at Rueben for scaring his mate. He knew the man wouldn’t really hurt Ishmael, and the fact that Ishmael was contacting someone was Madagascar’s own damn fault.

I should have been more attentive.

“You’re okay, Ish,” Madagascar reassured, resting his hand on his shoulder. “Rueben won’t hurt you. You just—”

Madagascar bit off his words when a blush filled Ishmael’s cheeks, and he peered at Madagascar from beneath his lashes. The man was just so damn... cute. He wanted to kneel next to him and kiss the heat from the man’s face, giving him a different reason to flush.

“Who was he contacting?” Sam asked.

“A Doctor Kaylie Meyer,” Rueben reported, his attention on the device. “He told her that there are people here with guns who took over the control room while he was cleaning.” Smirking, Rueben glanced Ishmael’s way. “You must type fast, man.” Then he held up the phone for Sam to see and stated, “She told him to keep quiet, listen to our conversations, and let her know if we mention anything odd.” With a wide grin and a scoff, Rueben finished, “Like creatures of myths.”

“Well, we can be sure that Kaylie knows about us.” Sam’s expression grew serious. “Is there an address listed in her contact info?”

After a few seconds of typing on the phone, Rueben shook his head. “Afraid not.”

“Give it here.” Lamar held up his hand. “I’ll see if I can trace the signal to where she is.”

Rueben handed over the phone as Ishmael issued a soft cry of dismay. The noise tore at Madagascar’s heart, and he wished there was some way he could soothe him. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind.

Perhaps also attracted by the noise, Sam focused on Ishmael. “It’s commendable that you warned one of the scientists of what’s happening here,” he stated softly, his tone almost kind. “It shows your loyalty.” Sam shook his head once as he rested his hand on Ishmael’s opposite shoulder. “I know you don’t understand right now, but you’ve given your loyalty to the wrong people.”

Ishmael glanced between them for a few seconds before lowering his gaze back to his knees.

Sam moved back toward the monitors, patting Madagascar’s upper back as he passed. “We have company coming,” he warned, pulling his gun from his holster. “Hmmm, a team of eight creeping toward us from the direction of the exit.”

“Maybe they were sent in response to Ish’s message,” Ryan proposed, slinging his rifle over his shoulder before drawing his own handgun.

“Could be, but I don’t feel like asking,” Sam told them. “If they fire, return it.”

Upon hearing that order, Madagascar noticed Ishmael press his forehead to his knees and a tremble worked through the man. He couldn’t resist placing his hand on his mate’s shoulder, hoping to comfort him. Ishmael tensed under his palm for a heartbeat before relaxing again, even going so far as to lean toward him a smidge.

Madagascar felt his bear rumble with pleasure in his mind, pleased with the connection.

“Ah, here comes Kontra’s team,” Lamar stated, pointing to a different monitor. “He’ll take care of them.”

Even with the door closed, the sound of gunfire mixed with roars and screams filtered to them. Madagascar heard Ishmael whimper again, confirming his belief that his mate might be huge, but he had a gentle soul. Needing to help Ishmael in some way, he lowered to one knee beside him.

Threading his fingers through Ishmael’s thick, black hair, Madagascar leaned close and murmured, “This wasn’t your fault.” When Ishmael’s black-eyed-gaze met Madagascar’s own, he saw the sadness within their depths as well as a healthy dose of disbelief. “Whoever sent those soldiers here is at fault,” he told his mate. “And unless they were sitting around in the bayou close by, there wasn’t enough time between your text and now for the doc to have sent them.”

“Mads is right, man,” Rueben assured, giving Ishmael a smile. “These guys were probably sent due to the alarm having been sounded.” His expression turned grave. “And I know you don’t understand right now, but we are at war.” After a second, Rueben added, “And we’re the good guys.”

Madagascar could scent Ishmael’s disbelief.

A knock sounded on the door.

“It’s Kontra,” Lamar announced.

Sam lifted his card to the reader. After the light turned green, he pulled the door open. The alpha stood in the doorway, naked as the day he was born, telling Madagascar that, at some point, he’d chosen to shift.

Kontra glanced around the room, his brow arching when he took in the two prisoners. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

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