Page 61 of Primal Bond
As the hand played out, Zanik felt a familiar coldness settle over him. He was the ruthless smuggler lord again, caring fornothing but the win. And win he did, revealing a stunning combination that left Rivek sputtering.
"That was just a chance hand," Rivek spat as Zanik raked in the pot.
Zanik allowed himself a predatory grin. "Keep telling yourself that."
The tension in the room thickened with every passing moment, the air crackling with anticipation as Zanik and Rivek locked horns over the table, dealing and playing round after round.
Soon, Rivek’s eyes gleamed with a predatory satisfaction as he laid down his hand of cards. “Looks like that luck of yours is now on my side, Zanik,” he drawled, leaning back with an air of smugness.
Zanik’s fingers tightened around his cards, his jaw clenching. Each card Rivek revealed chipped away at his resolve, and he could sense the shift in the room’s energy.
“Feeling the pressure?” Rivek taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You should have known better than to challenge me.”
Zanik’s mind raced, analyzing the situation from every angle. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, a cacophony of voices betting on his downfall. He didn't dare look at Finn.
Zanik couldn’t afford to lose now, not when so much was at stake.
Rivek’s next move was bold, almost reckless.
And it paid off. Rivek raked in the current pot, his grin widening. “Looks like your luck’s run out, Zanik. Maybe it’s time to fold.”
Zanik's confidence wavered for just a moment, the mask of indifference slipping. "Never."
Rivek’s eyes narrowed, sensing weakness like a predator sensing prey. “I expected more from the great Zanik," hemocked, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Seems like you’re not as formidable as they say.”
Zanik forced himself to take a deep breath, his mind a storm of thoughts. He had to stay focused, had to find a way to turn the tide. The cards in his hand felt heavy, like lead weights pulling him down.
All he needed was time.
Kelara, where are you…?
In the next hand, Rivek looked down at the cards on the table. He grinned. "It doesn't look like you have any good moves left, Zanik."
Damn. He was right. Zanik didn't. There was no way out of this hand — any option he took would give the victory to Rivek.
But there was something else happening. In the very peripheries of his vision, Zanik could see the club's staff beginning to rush towards each other, brows furrowed, whispering under their breaths. A new edginess had come over them, and their smooth customer service was evaporating, leaving them looking unsure of what to do next.
Zanik grinned. The cards on the table didn't mean anything any more.
“Remember one thing, Rivek,” Zanik said, his voice low and steady, cutting through the noise. He leaned forward, meeting Rivek’s gaze with a fierce intensity. “It doesn't matter how bad the scene looks — I make my own moves.”
Zanik watched as confusion flickered across Rivek's face. The smug grin that had been plastered there moments ago faltered, replaced by a look of uncertainty. Zanik's own grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
Suddenly, the station's PA system crackled to life, a harsh voice booming through the speakers.
"Attention! This is the military. We have the station surrounded. Put down your weapons immediately and surrender!"
The room erupted into chaos. Borraq leapt from their seats, drinks spilling and tables overturning. Panicked shouts and curses filled the air as everyone scrambled for escape routes.
Rivek's eyes widened in shock. "What the—"
Before he could finish, the lights cut out, plunging the entire club into darkness. Zanik's heart raced, adrenaline surging through his veins.
Perfect timing, Kelara.
Zanik's hand went to the hilt of his blade, feeling its familiar weight. He was ready.
Now,he thought,it's time to end this once and for all.