Page 30 of Property of Mako
“We’ve got a rat,” I finally murmured.
Crypt Keeper stopped pacing. “Yeah. Question is—whose scent’s gonna be on the trap when we spring it back?”
My jaw flexed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we start with every brother in our chapter that wasn’t there today. Nobody gets a free pass.”
When Dexter finally looked up, Bugsy was breathing easier, but his skin was still pale under his tattoos. “He’s stable,” Dexter announced. “But keep him out of fights for a while.”
I nodded once, then glanced at Lyra. She was quiet, leaning against the doorframe, trying to make herself invisible. But her eyes were sharp, following every word.
That protective burn in my chest flared again—the bond, tugging like a damn chain. I didn’t want her here. Not anymore. Not after today. The thought of something happening to her ignited a rage deep in my chest, the likes of which I hadn’t experienced since the day my sister died. But the thought of sending her off alone made my skin crawl.
My brothers were all watching me. I could feel their eyes boring into me. They weren’t saying it, but they knew I was hanging onto my sanity by a thin, thin thread.
“Come on,” I said, jerking my head toward the door. “We need to take care of your horses before we’re gone for a few days.”
She didn’t argue, just fell into step beside me.
The ride to her place was short, but the air between us was heavy. At the barn, she moved with practiced ease, feeding and watering while I checked the stalls. The animals settled quickly—probably sensing her calm, even if I knew it was a mask.
When we were done, she pulled out her phone and called her friend Abby.
“Hey, can you look after the horses for a few days? Yeah, all feed’s in the tack room, and—no, I’ll explain later.”
When Abby showed up, she was all blonde hair, denim jacket, and narrowed eyes. Her gaze flicked over me—black T-shirt, cut, motorcycle boots—and lingered like she was cataloging every potential felony.
“This your… friend?” she asked Lyra, voice loaded.
Lyra hesitated. “He’s… helping me.”
Abby’s gaze didn’t soften, but she nodded. “Horses’ll be fine. You just—stay safe.”
I caught the unspoken especially from him in her tone but didn’t bother responding. Let her think whatever she wanted. My priority was Lyra.
After an extremely long hug between the two women, we rolled out of there without looking back. The bond was humming now, a steady thrum under my skin, my body keyed to her every movement on the seat behind me.
By the time we hit the clubhouse, my control was barely hanging on.
She didn’t make it any easier. One look at me in that dim hallway outside my room, and it was like the world narrowed down to her pulse and the scent of her skin.
We moved into my room. No words. Just the slam of the door, the heat of her mouth, the scrape of her nails down my back.
And I gave in.
I’d told myself this had already gone too far. That she was trouble I couldn’t afford. But with her in my arms, that vow meant nothing.
She wasn’t just a woman I’d crossed a line with.
She was my mate.
And that meant I was already lost.
Through the wild and unfettered kiss, we tugged at each other’s clothes. Blindly, I tapped my cut around until it caught on the hook by the door. My T-shirt went to the floor. Her hoodie followed. We got as far as me shoving her pants down and unfastening mine before I spun her around and her hands hit the door.
My greedy hands grabbed her hips and jerked her ass toward my hard cock. One hand pressed on her back, encouraging her to bend over. Then I teased the tip of my cock through her pussy lips.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” I muttered as I watched the end of my shaft disappear into her tight sheath.
“Oh God, yes. Like that,” she encouraged as I went deeper with each stroke.
