Page 58 of Primal Bond

Rivek’s eyes narrowed, his smile fading. “Careful, Zanik. Statements like that could get you in trouble.”

Zanik leaned in, his voice a low growl. “Trouble loves me, Rivek. Test me, and find out how much.”

Rivek chuckled, though it lacked humor. “I've had enough of your barking, dog. Go and play with your mutts, and leave me to my drink."

With a final, mocking smile, Rivek turned and yanked Asher’s chain. Asher stumbled to his feet, his movements sluggish and automatic. Rivek dragged Asher away to the other side of the club, not even glancing in Finn’s direction.

Finn forced himself to stay still, to maintain the facade. Inside, his blood boiled, a tempest of anger and helplessness raging within him.

Zanik returned, his expression carefully neutral. He scooped Finn up, pulling him into his lap. Finn felt Zanik’s breath against his neck, the pretense of a bite concealing their conversation.

“Should I just stab him right here?” Zanik’s voice was a low rumble, full of restrained violence.

Finn’s mind raced. “No,” he whispered urgently. “Who knows how many other Borraq here might join in. It'd be chaos. We couldn't get Asher away safely. We need to get him away from Rivek first.”

Zanik’s grip on his hips tightened slightly. “How?”

Finn’s thoughts spun, desperate for a solution. He couldn’t let Asher slip away again. But they needed a plan, something more than just brute force.

He looked up at Zanik, searching for any sign of a strategy. “We need a distraction. Something that’ll give us a chance to grab Asher and get away from Rivek.”

Zanik’s eyes were sharp. “A distraction...”

Finn nodded, determination hardening his resolve. "I have something in mind…" He swallowed. "But you're not going to like it."

Chapter twenty-six

Zanik leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming against the table. The air in the club was thick with anticipation. The earlier exchange between the rival smugglers had left everyone on edge, and Zanik could feel the eyes of other Borraq boring into him, waiting for the inevitable clash.

Rivek was across the room, surrounded by his sycophants, guzzling down another drink. Zanik watched him through half-lidded eyes, feigning drunkenness himself. It was a plan he and Finn had crafted. He needed to appear vulnerable, baiting Rivek into making the first move.

"You handle the cargo runs so efficiently, Zanik," a particularly obsequious Borraq said, leaning in closer than Zanik liked. "What’s your secret?"

Zanik's lip curled in disdain, but he kept his voice measured. "Discipline. Something most lack." His tone was as cold as the space outside.

The sycophant laughed, a grating sound that made Zanik's horns itch. "Indeed, indeed. Discipline is key. That's very insightful."

Zanik felt a flicker of amusement from Finn at his feet. The human's shoulders shook slightly, probably stifling a laugh at the absurd flattery. Zanik couldn’t blame him. The fawning was almost unbearable.

"Your slave looks well-behaved," another Borraq commented, eyeing Finn with interest.

Zanik's gaze sharpened. "He knows his place." The words came out harsher than intended, but it served the purpose. The other Borraq backed off, cowed by the implied threat.

Inside, Zanik’s thoughts churned. He loathed the pretense, the necessity of playing along with these sycophants. He'd never loved this. He didn't do what he did for attention or notoriety.

Each interaction felt like swallowing bile, but it was crucial. Every second he held their attention, he edged closer to the spark that would set his plan aflame.

He turned his attention back to the room, surveying the tense atmosphere. Rivek’s laughter boomed, drawing the attention of the club’s patrons.

It was almost time.

He leaned back further, letting his eyelids half-lid as if succumbing to inebriation. Inside, he was a coiled spring, ready to snap. The pieces were in place. All he needed now was the right moment to strike…

The sycophants around him continued their mindless chatter, oblivious to the storm brewing. A lanky Borraq with a penchant for empty compliments leaned closer. “You really know what you're doing, Zanik. Rivek’s just been lucky lately. It’s all luck. Without that, he’s nothing.”

The words cut through the chatter, and Zanik felt the tension ripple across the room. He kept his expression neutral, though he suppressed a smirk.

A Borraq from Rivek's entourage bristled at the comment. “Lucky? Rivek’s got true skill.”

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