Primal Bond (Warlords of Vasz #4)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen

F inn's bare feet touched the cold, grimy metal floor of the space station as he stepped off the shuttle. The sensation jolted him back to the present, away from the memory of Zanik's lap, the heat of his body, and the undeniable tension crackling between them.

But Zanik still touched him. Zanik's hand rested on his shoulder, a show of ownership that fit their roles but made Finn's skin tingle in ways he didn't want to examine too closely.

As they walked, the station's oppressive atmosphere closed in on them. This place wasn't like the other station that Finn had seen through the camera. It was a place of shadows and whispered deals, where only the desperate or the dangerous dared to tread.

Finn couldn't help but think how well Zanik fit in here, with his commanding presence and icy stare. The Borraq looked every bit the ruthless smuggler lord he was supposed to be, while Finn played the part of the compliant pleasure slave, collar glinting under the harsh lights.

"Keep up," Zanik's voice rumbled, low and authoritative.

Finn's mind flashed back to the shuttle, the way he'd felt Zanik's muscles tense under his touch, the way his own heart had raced. He'd been playing a game, teasing Zanik, testing the waters.

But beneath his bravado, there was a part of him that had wanted — needed — to see if Zanik would lose control.

And Zanik had wanted him. Finn had seen it in his eyes, felt it in the way his body had reacted.

But now wasn't the time for those thoughts. They had a mission, and Rivek was somewhere in this wretched hive. Finn kept his head down, trying to project an air of subservience.

Easier said than done, for a guy like him.

They moved through the crowded corridors, Zanik's grip firm on Finn's shoulder, guiding him through the throng. Finn couldn't help but notice the way other Borraq eyed him, some with curiosity, others with open grins. He suppressed a shudder.

We're just here for a purpose. Get in, kill Rivek, get out. That's all. Eyes on the prize, Finn.

You can do this.

His heart hammered in his chest as they approached a pair of burly Borraq standing silently in front of a door — bouncers. Their eyes swept over Zanik first, taking in his commanding presence, the air of authority that clung to him like a second skin.

Then those eyes flicked to Finn. He felt the gaze slide over him, assessing, judging. Finn suppressed a shiver, standing as still as he could manage under the scrutiny.

"Name?" one bouncer grunted.

"You know me," came the curt reply. Zanik's voice held the kind of confidence that didn't need to be questioned.

The bouncer's eyes narrowed, but Zanik had the right entry ticket to this depraved club standing right beside him: a good little pet human, all prettied up and ready to show off. A slow nod followed, and the bouncers stepped aside, allowing them entry.

As they passed, Zanik's hand moved to Finn's back, a touch between the shoulder blades that looked to an outsider like a possessive gesture.

But Finn knew better. The warmth of Zanik's hand seeped through his thin clothing, a subtle reassurance that Zanik was there with him.

For a moment, Finn let himself lean back against the touch, if only slightly.

Maybe Zanik wasn't just another Rivek, another Urlek. Maybe, despite everything, there really was something different here.

But he couldn't afford to dwell on that now. Finn followed Zanik into the club.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lights, dimmed to set the mood. Then Finn's eyes swept across the club, taking in the scene with a mix of disgust and barely contained rage.

The place was a bizarre blend of luxury and decay, like someone had tried to slap a coat of gold paint on a rusted-out hull. Plush red curtains hung from the walls, but they couldn't quite hide the exposed pipes and wiring behind them. Crystal lights cast a soft glow over the room, their light glinting off the industrial metal tables and chairs scattered around, arranged into booths.

At the tables sat Borraq, all muscle and sharp angles, lounging like kings on their thrones as they talked, drank, and guffawed with each other. And next to each of them...

Finn's stomach churned. Humans. Some were perched on their masters' laps, others kneeled at their feet. All of them wore expressions that ranged from blank submission to forced smiles.

But Finn didn't have time to look at the humans. His eyes darted from Borraq face to Borraq face, searching for Rivek. Where is that bastard…?

His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. He'd been so sure Rivek would be here. This was supposed to be his chance, dammit! His chance to make that son of a bitch pay for everything he'd done.

A server, a Borraq with small horns, led them to an empty table. Finn barely registered the movement, too focused on scanning the room. Each step felt like an eternity, each new face he saw that wasn't Rivek's another disappointment.

As they walked, Finn's anger built, a hot, seething mass in his chest. He committed every detail to memory: the layout of the room, the faces of the Borraq, the vacant stares of their slaves.

He'd find a way to save them. He'd burn this whole fucking place to the ground if he had to.

As they reached their table, Finn's control was slipping. He wanted to scream, to demand where Rivek was hiding. He wanted to tear this place apart until he found him. The leash around his neck felt like it was choking him, a constant reminder of his helplessness.

Zanik settled into the chair with an air of nonchalance, but Finn could feel the tension coiling beneath that calm facade. The server approached again, bowing slightly as he placed a drink on the table in front of Zanik.

Zanik's eyes locked onto Finn’s, the command clear. “Sit,” Zanik gestured to the space by his feet, sharp and demeaning.

Their master-slave roles were just disguises, but that didn't stop rage from flaring in Finn’s chest at the order, hot and bright. But then, a flicker of realization. Sitting down low by Zanik's boots would hide his face from any prying eyes.

And right now, fighting but the urge to scream, Finn needed that.

Zanik was trying to protect him, to keep his fury and frustration from blowing their cover. Finn swallowed his pride and lowered himself to the floor, feeling the cool metal against his bare shins.

From his position, he could see the entirety of the club without anyone paying him much attention. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of Rivek, but the bastard really wasn’t there.

He risked a whisper, voice barely audible over the murmur of conversation and clinking glasses. “He's not here.”

Zanik leaned down, his hand moving to Finn’s chest, fingers pinching at his nipple in a mock gesture of dominance. The contact gave him an opening to lean in and whisper to Finn in a way that no-one would have questioned. Still, the touch was unexpected, sending a jolt through Finn.

“We wait," Zanik murmured, low enough to only reach Finn's ears. "See what we can find out. Be patient — we’re hunters now.”

Hunters . Finn latched onto the word, repeating it like a mantra in his mind. He was a hunter. He was here to take down Rivek, to tear apart this whole twisted operation. The anger simmered, but he forced it to cool, forced himself to think like a predator lying in wait.

Pretending to be obedient, he let his eyes wander the club. He memorized the entrances and exits, noting where the guards stood, where potential weapons might be hidden. Every detail became part of his mental map.

The act of observation, of planning, eased the tension in his muscles. He imagined the hunt, the thrill of tracking down prey, the satisfaction of a successful strike. It was just him and Zanik, two hunters in a den of vipers. The thought steadied him, made the role he played more bearable.

Finn forced his face to stay blank, to project the image of a docile, well-trained slave.

They’d find what they needed. They’d make their move when the time was right.

Then Rivek would pay —

Finn's attention snapped back to the present, his nerves jangling with alarm.

A Borraq was approaching their table.