Primal Bond (Warlords of Vasz #4)

15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen

A s soon as they stepped inside the shuttle, Finn spun around to face Zanik. “Why did you pull us out so early?” he snapped, voice shaking with pent-up frustration. “I could have stayed. You didn’t have to make that call.”

“You were losing it, Finn," Zanik growled. "Breathing fast, trembling. I wasn’t going to let you fall apart.”

Finn’s chest heaved as he struggled to contain his frustration. “I could have handled it,” he spat, fists clenching at his sides. “I'm not some delicate flower! I was fine!” His voice rose, tinged with a mixture of rage and desperation. “We needed to be there—”

Zanik’s patience snapped. He yanked the leash hard, forcing Finn to stumble forward until their faces were inches apart. “Enough!” Zanik’s growl reverberated through the shuttle. “You’re more scared of admitting your own weakness than you are of Rivek.”

Finn’s breath caught in his throat. His initial instinct was to fight back, to deny it, but the raw truth in Zanik’s words hit him like a physical blow. “I’m not weak,” he whispered, but his voice lacked conviction.

His knees buckled, and he sank against Zanik’s chest, the tears he had been holding back finally breaking free.

“I’m not weak,” he repeated, his voice barely audible. His body trembled with the effort to hold onto the last shreds of his defiance, but they slipped away like sand through his fingers. He buried his face against Zanik’s chest, and then the first sob wrenched its way out of him.

Zanik’s grip on the leash loosened, and he pulled Finn into his arms, holding him close. Finn felt the Borraq’s muscular arms wrap around him, offering an unexpected comfort.

Zanik lay down in the pilot’s seat, Finn’s body stretched out on top of Zanik’s. The warmth of Zanik’s chest against Finn's cheek, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, grounded Finn in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Slowly, Finn’s breathing evened out, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked up at Zanik, their faces still close, and managed a weak smile. “You suck at comforting people,” he said, his voice hoarse from crying.

Zanik’s lips twitched, a rare hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I know,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.

Finn snorted softly, the tension between them easing. For a moment, he allowed himself to relax, to find solace in Zanik’s presence. Despite the chaos and pain, there was a flicker of something new, something important.

But for now, he simply let himself be held.

Finn looked up at Zanik, his one strange ally in this chaotic universe. Despite everything, Zanik had been the only one to offer him comfort. In the dim light of the shuttle's cockpit, Zanik's sharp angles softened, his cold stare seemed less intimidating. His muscular build, the way his horns cast shadows over his face, all combined to create a figure that was both protective and formidable.

Finn’s heart pounded in his chest, a confusing mix of fear, longing, and defiance. Without fully thinking it through, he lurched forward to kiss Zanik.

Zanik’s hands shot up, holding Finn still. “What are you doing?”

“You suck at being romantic, too,” Finn managed to say, his lips curving into a small, mischievous smile.

Zanik looked half astounded, half offended, which made Finn laugh — a short, genuine laugh that broke the tension. But Zanik didn’t shove him away. Instead, he seemed to be grappling with something internally, his grip on Finn loosening.

Slowly, Finn leaned up and kissed Zanik. Their lips met tentatively, the kiss soft and exploring. Finn’s heart raced, and he could feel Zanik’s heartbeat matching his own. For a moment, it was just the two of them, suspended in time, sharing something fragile and real.

Zanik let him kiss for a heartbeat, then pulled back warningly. “You don’t need to do this,” he said, his voice strained.

Finn shook his head. “It’s not… it's not payback, or anything like that,” he insisted. “I want to — and I know you do, too.”

Zanik’s expression wavered, his eyes searching Finn’s face. Whatever he found there seemed to convince him. He leaned down, kissing Finn, his arms wrapping protectively around him.

Finn melted into the kiss, his body pressing against Zanik’s solid form. When was the last time anyone held him like this, using their strength to hold him instead of harming him?

His mind reeled with the realization — Never. It had never happened before.

He had never known this kind of safety.

The sensation of Zanik’s solid form beneath him, the way their bodies fit together, sent a thrill through Finn. He lost himself in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted, being connected.

Their kisses deepened, tongues exploring each other’s mouths with a growing urgency. Finn felt Zanik’s body reacting, a hardness pressing against his thigh. Finn hesitated, his past experiences making him wary.

He checked his own reactions, half-expecting the old fear and disgust to rise up.

But it didn’t.

Instead, a spark of something else flared inside him — desire.

He found it hot, thrilling even, to feel Zanik getting hard against him. His own body responded, his arousal building with each passing moment. Tentatively, Finn pressed down against Zanik, rubbing his growing erection against the Borraq’s hardnesses. The friction sent shivers down his spine, a delicious mix of pleasure and excitement.

Zanik’s reaction was immediate. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and his grip on Finn tightened. His hands roamed over Finn’s back, pulling him even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

The intensity of Zanik’s response set something inside Finn on fire. All that? For him? He wanted more — needed more.

Finn ground against Zanik, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that was both primal and intimate. Each movement, each touch, fueled the fire inside him. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t in a long time, maybe ever.

The past, the pain, the fear — it all faded into the background, leaving only the present, only this moment.

Finn’s mind raced, but his body knew what it wanted. He kissed Zanik with a fierce hunger, pouring all his pent-up emotions into the connection. Zanik’s hands gripped his hips, guiding their movements, encouraging him. The sensation of Zanik’s hardnesses pressing against him, the way their bodies fit together, was intoxicating.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Finn allowed himself to want.

He rocked his hips, grinding against Zanik, his breaths coming out in short, heated bursts. Zanik’s eyes shut tight, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest, as if he was barely holding back.

Holding back. That was more than Finn was used to. In his past, only good things were held from him: food, water, time to heal. But here, with Zanik, it meant control, consideration.

Finn’s heart ached with a confusing mix of gratitude and resentment. Why did he feel grateful for something so basic?

With a surge of determination, he slid off Zanik’s lap and dropped to his knees at the end of the pilot's seat, between Zanik’s spread thighs.

The instant his fingers reached for the waistband of Zanik’s pants, Zanik’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising gentleness. "No."