Page 49 of Primal Bond

You left them behind. They might not want you back.

He struck again, the sound of his fist slicing through the air a reminder of how far he’d drifted. Each punch was a question he didn’t have the answer to.

With a final, powerful kick, Zanik ended his practice, sweat dripping down his brow. The bridge fell silent, the weight of his thoughts hanging heavy in the air. He leaned against the wall, staring out at the stars, lost in the uncertainty of it all.

Kelara stepped into the bridge, her sharp gaze landing on Zanik. The air felt thick with unspoken tension. He stood near the controls, sweat glistening on his golden skin, muscles tense.

She eyed him, taking in his state. “The system menu giving you trouble?”

Zanik scowled. “Just running through the motions.”

“Uh-huh.” Kelara leaned against the doorway, her posture casual but her eyes keen. “You look like you’ve been wrestling a grelak.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, brushing off the concern. He didn’t need her prying into his state of mind. “What’s the status on tomorrow's route?”

She straightened, shifting into business mode. “We’re clear for the next drop, but Rivek’s men are still sniffing around. I suggest we adjust our usual path. Maybe take a detour.”

Zanik nodded, his mind drifting as they went over their options, calculating the risks of every move. This wasn't a life for people who played things by ear. If you didn't respect the danger that lurked in every transaction, it would swallow you whole.

Kelara was good at it. "The military are about to shift their focus to the east of the subsector, and Kalypso Station's orbit is about to move a quarter-turn around their planet," she pointed out. "I don't think that intel is out there yet, so that space is likely going to be empty. We're best to run through it."

"Sometimes I think you were born for this."

"Then give me a greater revenue split."

"How much do you want?"

"Hmm… 'All of it' sounds pretty good to me. Let's start at one hundred percent and work up from there."

It was a joke she'd made before, making no attempts to hide her ambition and love of the game. Normally, Zanik liked to see it. Now, though, it struck a little too close to his swirling thoughts.

Zanik narrowed his eyes. "What would you do if I ever decided to give up the game?"

Kelara narrowed her own in response, matching him, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Take over your role, of course. Become the powerful loner, brooding alone in mybridge." She paused, her smirk widening. "Maybe even find a weird little alien mate of my own."

Zanik's brow furrowed. "I don't brood," he muttered.

Kelara laughed, not unkindly. "Sure you don't, boss. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll need to ready the dock." She turned and left, her bootsteps echoing down the corridor.

She was a livewire. Zanik needed his men to be sharp, savvy, and confident enough to speak their minds.

Sometimes, that could be a curse.

He shook his head, turning back to the navigation console. He stared at the plotted route on the screen, his finger hovering over the controls.

The route they'd chosen was good. The safest outcome.

But there was something else he needed. He knew that now.

With a deep breath, he added a single destination to the route: an old safe drop location.

It's not a commitment,he told himself.Just a possibility.

A chance to see if there was still a place for him in that world.

Chapter twenty-two

The Ironclad pulled up to the space station, its viewscreens revealing the sight before it.