Page 60 of Primal Bond

Across the table, Rivek's smirk widened, oozing confidence. "Ready to lose it all, Zanik?" he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Zanik matched it with his own cocky grin, though inside his stomach churned. "In your dreams," Zanik shot back, leaning forward. "I've got luck on my side tonight."

Luck, and connections.

Kelara. He'd taken a quick break from the club after Finn had shared his plan — his stupid, dangerous, risky plan. Zanik had gone back to his shuttle, pretending to check in on a shipment in progress. In a quick, hushed exchange over the comms, he'd given Kelara some very unusual instructions, getting her to set certain things in motion.

Now all he could do was hope that she delivered.

It felt strange, this reliance on others. Zanik had clawed his way to the top by trusting no one, relying solely on his own cunning and strength. Yet here he was, at the most crucial moment, blindly putting his faith in someone who could possibly stab him in the back and take everything from him.

Because if this failed... Zanik's eyes flicked briefly to Finn, taking in his tense posture, the worry barely hidden beneath his submissive facade.

He couldn't lose him.

Not now, not ever.

"Well?" Rivek's impatient voice cut through Zanik's thoughts. "Are we playing or not?"

Zanik met Rivek's gaze, steeling himself. "Let's do this," he growled, reaching for the deck of cards on the table.

Chapter twenty-seven

Zanik's eyes swept over the familiar cards of Horns and Blades, the high-stakes gambling game favored by Borraq warriors. The deck's worn edges spoke of countless hands played, fortunes won and lost.

He knew every nuance of the game, every subtle play that could make a player lose everything.

But so did Rivek.

The club's patrons crowded around their table, a sea of muscular bodies and gleaming horns. The air crackled with tension as two of the sector's most formidable forces prepared to clash.

Zanik's fingers twitched as he picked up his cards, his mind racing. Finn's life hung in the balance, along with Asher's. The weight of their trust pressed down on him, threatening to crush his composure.

"Nervous, Zanik?" Rivek sneered, his voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "Your hands are shaking."

A lie. Zanik smirked. "Just eager to take your credits, Rivek — and your slave."

As he laid down his first card, Zanik's thoughts strayed to Finn. The human's warmth, his defiant spirit, the way he'd wormed his way into Zanik's heart. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

"Your move, hotshot," Rivek taunted, tossing down a high-value card.

Zanik hesitated. There was a play he could make with that… but the risk was too great. If he matched Rivek's bet, he could lose Finn in an instant. He couldn't possibly take it. But without taking advantage of it, Rivek's next hand would be far harder to beat…

He'd never played a game of Horns and Blades this stressful before. The game was always so easy—

It hit Zanik. It was always so easy because he never cared about the outcome. He played risky, and that let him win big. Now, though, he was overthinking each move, wanting to play safe.

He'd never win that way. He had to play like the Zanik he'd spent years being, the cold-hearted killer who cared for no one.

With a deep breath, he buried his feelings for Finn, locking them away in the darkest corners of his mind.

"What's the matter, Rivek?" Zanik drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "Is this the way you start a round, playing like a mouse? What, are you afraid to up the ante?"

He tossed down a card, doubling Rivek's bet. The crowd hissed, sucking in breaths.

Rivek's eyes narrowed. "You're bluffing."

"Try me," Zanik growled, leaning forward. His heart raced, but his face remained an impassive mask.

---