Primal Bond (Warlords of Vasz #4)

10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten

Z anik stood in the cold, dimly lit hangar of the military outpost, his eyes sharp as he surveyed the exchange. The harsh fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow over the crate of smuggled weapons arrayed before him. Kelara stood at his side, her sharp horns catching the light, her expression unreadable but alert.

Across from them, General Terek, a grizzled veteran with a face etched by countless battles, examined the weapons. His golden skin had dulled with age, and his horns were scarred from years of combat, but Terek's gaze was still as sharp as a blade as he scrutinized every detail of the weaponry laid out before him.

"These are the best you've brought, Zanik," Terek said, his voice a low rumble that matched his imposing stature. He lifted a sleek plasma rifle, testing its weight and balance.

"I don’t deal in inferior goods, General," Zanik replied, his tone confident and unwavering. "Only the finest for those who know their worth."

Terek's eyes flicked to Zanik, a hint of grudging respect in his gaze. "You've always had an eye for quality. These will serve us well."

Kelara shifted slightly, her presence a silent reminder of the loyalty Zanik commanded. The angle of her horns carried a touch of pride at the praise.

Zanik had to fight a smirk. Kelara liked to act like she was only ever interested in the bottom line, but he could read the pride that she took in her work. When it came to underhanded dealings, she was a craftswoman.

Terek finished checking the delivery and nodded, his approval tacit but clear. "Thank you for your service to your planet. The frontlines need every advantage we can get. We're defending our homeworld out here."

There was a baited hook in those words. Terek had made his wishes clear in pervious encounters: he wanted more firepower, more armor, more tech, more everything .

But he didn't have the budget for it. The military's budget was stretched thin far before it reached all the way to this far side of the frontlines.

And if Terek couldn't pay for more — well, Zanik wasn't in the habit of charity.

Zanik simply answered the unvoiced demand with an unyielding smile. "Good to hear. Our arrangement remains discreet. No one outside this room will know where these came from."

"Discretion is key," Terek agreed, his expression hardening. "The higher-ups say they want us to be well-armed, but then they redirect our funding into their pockets instead." He snorted. "At the same time, they would have my horns if they knew I was dealing with... Well."

Zanik met Terek’s gaze evenly. "We're all just trying to survive in this war."

The General’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no malice in them. He knew how the game was played. He gave a curt nod, signaling the end of their conversation. "Take your payment and go."

Kelara moved forward to complete the transaction. Zanik turned, his mind already on his next move.

He stepped up into the Ironclad's cargo entrance, his boots making a muted thud against the metal floor. His mind buzzed with the satisfaction of a successful trade and the anticipation of their next move.

But then he saw it — a flicker of movement behind a crate.

Finn.

The human was peeking out at the deal, those large eyes wide with curiosity.

Alarm shot through Zanik. What in the hells was Finn doing?!

If anyone out there had seen him…

Zanik moved silently but urgently, crossing the distance in a heartbeat. His hand clamped around Finn's arm, yanking him away from the crate and deeper into the ship.

Finn yelped, more from surprise than pain. "Hey, I was just—"

"Shut up," Zanik hissed, his voice low but fierce.

He dragged Finn down the corridor, away from prying eyes and ears. Only when they reached the inner sanctum of the ship did Zanik release his grip, shoving Finn up against a wall.

Finn rubbed his arm, glaring. "I just wanted to see if anyone at the trade was one of Rivek's associates!"

Zanik’s fury flared, a fire stoked by fear. "That intel isn’t worth your life!" he snapped, his voice echoing off the metal walls. "If one of the military Borraq had spotted you, you'd be dead . Do you understand that?"

Finn’s eyes widened, but he didn’t back down. "I just thought—"

"Don’t think," Zanik cut him off, his voice a harsh growl. "Just follow my orders."

He could feel his pulse hammering in his temples, the adrenaline making his hands tremble slightly. He wasn't just angry — he was terrified.

A Borraq on the wrong side of the law might parade around a human slave or two, but most of their species wanted humans dead on sight. They were bitter enemies in this war that had claimed so many lives.

The thought of Finn being caught, being killed...

Finn met his gaze, unflinching. "I can help," he said, softer this time. "I know I can."

Zanik’s jaw clenched. He hated that Finn was right, that he was valuable. But more than that, he hated the vulnerability he felt in this moment.

He couldn’t afford to care, couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Not again.

Zanik stood close to Finn, his breath shallow and quick. The human’s scent hit him like a freight train — a mix of sweat, fear, and something inherently alluring. Humans always smelled good, but this... this was different.

This close, Finn's scent was intoxicating, calling to instincts Zanik had fought to keep buried for years. He could feel his blood run hotter, his Borraq instincts clawing their way to the surface.

"Follow my orders," Zanik repeated, his voice rough. "Or next time, I won't be there to save you."

Finn's eyes narrowed in defiance, clearly surprised by the intensity radiating off Zanik. "Why do you even care?"

Zanik’s mind raced. Why did he care? He should be focused on the mission, on keeping his crew safe, on outmaneuvering Rivek.

But standing here, pressed up against Finn, the human’s scent wrapping around him like a vice, Zanik found himself at a loss for words. He tried to suppress the primal urges, to ignore the way Finn’s presence stirred something deep and instinctual within him.

"Just want to keep me to yourself, huh?" Finn’s voice cut through his thoughts, laced with sarcasm and a hint of bitterness.

Zanik’s temper flared. "I don’t want you at all," he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

Finn’s eyes darkened, a mixture of hurt and anger flashing across his face. He shoved Zanik away, breaking the contact between them. "Could’ve fooled me," he muttered.

Zanik clenched his fists. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

The mission. Rivek.

Anything but the way Finn made his heart pound and his blood sing.

Zanik stalked off, leaving Finn and the charged atmosphere behind. His boots echoed in the metallic corridors of the Ironclad as he made his way to the shower block. It had been a grueling day of shipping weapons, each piece of artillery a reminder of the ongoing war and his own role in it.

The shower block was as utilitarian as the rest of the ship. Smooth, white hygiene amalgam lined the walls, pristine and smooth. The water dispensers were sleek, embedded into the ceiling, designed to fall like rainfall.

Zanik activated one of the showerheads, and hot water began to pour over his broad shoulders, running down his muscular frame. The heat seeped into his tense muscles, offering a momentary respite. He closed his eyes, letting the water wash away the grime and the stress of the day.

But instead of relaxing, Zanik found himself grinding his teeth. His mind, traitorous and relentless, wandered back to Finn.

The human’s scent, potent and inescapable, clung to his memory. Even through his defensive genetic modifications, the pheromones stirred something primal in him, something he struggled to keep buried. Finn's big, expressive eyes flashed in his mind, surprised that Zanik had shown any concern.

Zanik's body reacted against his will. His cocks hardened, a rush of heat that the shower’s warmth couldn’t account for. He growled low in his throat, a sound of frustration and reluctant desire.

He tried to ignore it, to focus on the water, the steam, anything but the way Finn had looked at him.

But it was no use. The tension coiled tight within him, demanding release.

Some battles were unwinnable.

With a resigned sigh, Zanik let his hand slide down his stomach, feeling the ridges of his muscles. He grasped one of his cocks, the touch sending a surge of heat through him. His other hand followed, wrapping around the second shaft.

His eyes slid shut as he began to move, trying to conjure a safe image. Something, anything, that wasn’t Finn.

He pictured an anonymous meeting, a faceless, nameless Borraq partner. Someone just there to blow off tension, to satisfy a basic need.

But as he imagined pressing up against them, the fantasy overlapped with memory — the memory of Finn's body pressed up against his, small and delicate, like it was made to fit within Zanik's arms.

His sharp teeth ground together as he tried to banish the image of Finn from his mind, but it was futile. The human's face, those defiant brown eyes, and that infuriatingly enticing scent… It filled his senses.

He imagined shoving Finn up against a wall, not in anger this time, but in a desperate, consuming need. The thought of tearing away the too-big Borraq clothes that Finn had borrowed made his pulse race. He pictured Finn’s lean, muscular body revealed beneath, skin flushed and warm, muscles taut with anticipation.

Zanik's breath hitched as he imagined Finn’s long legs wrapping around his waist, holding him close. He could almost feel the heat of Finn's body against his, the human’s skin slick with sweat and desire. His mind conjured the image of sliding into Finn’s tight, welcoming heat, the way Finn's body would arch and shudder with each thrust.

The thought of that smartass mouth, usually spitting defiant remarks, now groaning wide with pleasure… Zanik ground his teeth. He imagined the sounds Finn would make, the way his name might fall from Finn's lips in breathless, needy gasps.

His strokes became erratic, his mind lost in the fantasy of claiming Finn, of feeling the human writhe beneath him, desperate and wanting. He pictured the way Finn's body would tighten around him, the sheer intensity of the moment driving him closer to the edge…

With a guttural growl, Zanik's body tensed, his climax hitting him with the force of a supernova. His release spilled over his hands, the pleasure so intense it left him breathless. His mind was still caught in the fantasy, the imagined heat of Finn's body and the sounds of his pleasure echoing in his ears.

But over the sounds of the water and the rushing of his blood in his ears, Zanik heard a sound.

His eyes snapped open.

The door to the shower block, which was supposed to have been locked, clicked shut.

And he didn't have to think twice about who had been spying on him.

The hot water slid over him, washing away the evidence of his fantasy, but it couldn't cleanse what had just happened.

Zanik panted, trying to get his breath back. He clenched his fists, water dripping from his fingers like droplets of molten frustration.

Humans are trouble, he reminded himself.

This human is trouble.