Page 13 of Property of Mako (Kings of Anarchy MC: Louisiana #1)

Smoke in the Ranks

Mako

I’ve fought in more ambushes than I can count, but that one? That one was too perfect. Too well-timed.

Bugsy was still on the table when I leaned against the wall in the clubhouse infirmary, arms crossed tight over my chest. Dexter’s hands were moving with inhuman precision, blue light flickering across Bugsy’s wounds as he muttered in the ancient tongue his kind used when tapping into their power.

Crypt Keeper paced, the wolf still too close to the surface for comfort. Spook stood silent in the corner, eyes like black glass, watching everything.

I couldn’t shake the fury clawing at my ribs. Someone had tipped the Covenant off. Someone who knew exactly where we’d be and when.

“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.

The humming I’d noticed earlier had increased to a steady vibration that connected the two of us in a way I’d never known. Never having a mate, this was all uncharted territory for me. After nearly nine hundred years, I was actually experiencing something new. I was blown away.

Sex was something vampires craved nearly as much as blood. It was part of our lustful nature. Yet after hundreds of years, it tended to lose some of its appeal. It became a way to relieve tension or feel good, but there were little to no feelings involved. For some, they lost interest completely.

I’d become one of the latter.

Yet now I couldn’t imagine not fucking her every damn day. Maybe two or three times a day.

“That feels so good,” she panted.

“Fuck yes, it does,” I agreed. “You like me fucking this pussy?”

“Yes!” she cried out as I thrust faster.

“Whose pussy is this?” I demanded as I clutched her curls in one hand and turned her head so she could look at me. My movement arched her back in the sexiest way.

“Yours!” she breathed as I pounded into her waiting heat. The astonishment in her pretty eyes told me that she hadn’t expected to so readily state that. She had no idea how powerful a mating bond could be, though.

“That’s right, baby girl. Every inch of you is mine now. You understand that?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“That’s my good girl,” I crooned before I leaned forward to kiss her pillowy lips. Then I released her hair, and her head fell forward as I gripped the curve of her hips and drove into her tight cunt with determined precision.

My incisors ached as they descended in the natural response to being with my mate. If she were a vampire, we would bite each other during copulation, amplifying the sensation. With her being human, I didn’t dare.

Sex with one’s bonded mate was reported to be inexplicable. I now believed those rumors.

When her orgasm crashed over her and she screamed out my name, I let myself go, and I poured into her. It was so powerful, I was afraid I’d left bruises on her pale flesh from my fingertips.

Then I carried her spent body to my bed where, once she’d recovered a bit, we did it all over again.

As she dozed in my arms, I prayed I could keep her safe. Because after today, I knew that with her being a human, we were playing a very dangerous game.