The Mating Run by Leeka

Safe

So, here I am, watching Victor scratch his head in confusion, wondering out loud why his claiming bite didn’t work.

“Something’s not right.”

And honestly, I can’t help but laugh. It’s like watching a magician who messed up a trick, and now everyone is left wondering what went wrong. But in this case, the trick was supposed to be some mystical bond, and all I got was a painful reminder of my naivety.

He mutters something about it not working as expected, and Zeke, always the voice of reason, asks if Victor even bothered to read the pamphlet. I can’t contain my laughter at this point. The pamphlet, the one that probably no one reads until things go south.

Classic.

But then Zeke drops a bombshell. The trackers inside us aren’t just trackers- they’re pheromone inducers. And apparently, every single thing in the field was a pheromone inducer. I try to wrap my head around it.

I can’t decide whether to be relieved that there’s no mystical bond or irritated that Victor literally took a bite out of me. It’s absurd, and I find myself laughing again. Maybe it’s the sheer ridiculousness of the situation or the fact that life has a way of turning expectations into a chaotic mess.

Victor looks like he’s about to say something, but Zeke beats him to it.

“You’re a f**king idiot, that’s what you are.”

Zeke declares, and for a moment, I appreciate the simplicity of his words.

No sugarcoating, just a straightforward assessment of the situation.

Safe

I look at Zeke, and we share a moment of understanding. The absurdity of it all hangs in the air like a punchline to an inside joke.

Victor finally speaks, his voice a mixture of frustration and confusion.

“But the claiming bite is supposed to create a bond!”

He protests, as if the universe owes him an explanation. I roll my eyes. The universe doesn’t owe anyone anything, especially not an explanation for failed magical bonds.

Zeke shakes his head, a bemused smile on his face.

“Did you even read the pamphlet?”

He asks, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. It’s a rhetorical question at this point. Who reads the pamphlet until everything falls apart?

Zeke explains the intricacies of Hunters and Hiders, and how Victor’s claim was nothing more than a physical act with no mystical repercussions. I feel a strange mix of relief and irritation.

at me, his expression a mix of

he protests again, as if the act of biting should have automatically triggered a cosmic connection. I can’t help but shake my head. The simplicity of his

a huge chunk of her flesh, Victor. That’s all you did.

of my being, a release of pent–up tension and absurdity. Victor’s face contorts with a mix of embarrassment and anger. It’s a priceless reaction, and I revel in the absurdity of the situation.

that in this moment, I’ve found a strange

connections. Liberated from the weight of Victor’s failed

feel a bit woozy. Zeke tears a piece

he says, his voice steady. “But not too

him, confusion etched on my

and the growing sense of faintness. But Zeke doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stands up, his expression hardened, and grabs Victor by the collar.

sounds of impact echo in the air, sharp and jarring. Victor stumbles backward, his hand flying to his nose, blood trickling between his fingers. I blink, trying to make sense of

Zeke growls, his voice low and menacing. “Lucky that I have to

of her first.”

air, a palpable threat that adds another layer of

a strange mix of

softening as he sees

pain intensifies, but Zeke’s presence is a reassuring constant. I steal a glance at Victor, who’s still recovering from Zeke’s punches. He’s groaning in pain, crawling away from us. I don’t know where he’s

care.

Safe

with a water bottle, offering it to me. “Drink.” he instructs, and I obey, the cool liquid soothing

mix of concern and determination. “We need to get you out of here,” he says, his tone leaving no room

the world around me blurs, edges fading into a fog of confusion. Zeke’s

eyes open.” he says, his words a lifeline in the disorienting swirl of sensations.

pain in my neck throbs, a persistent reminder of Victor’s reckless actions. Zeke’s hand is on my shoulder, a steadying presence in the midst of chaos. I want to ask him what’s happening, why there are growls and sirens echoing in the distance, but my words get lost in the

firm, a lifeline in the growing storm. I

mournful symphony, and the growls intensify. It’s

hear Victor scoff, his voice a grating interruption.

and callous. “Just f**k off and leave me alone this time, you f**kers hear me?”

mine. “Ignore him, Alina. Focus on staying awake.” His words guide me through the disorientation. I try to nod, but

a low growl that matches the ominous sounds in the distance. The world is dimming, the edges of consciousness

i cling to Zeke’s voice, the anchor that keeps me from sinking

chaos, each note playing a part in the disorienting melody that surrounds us. I want

It’s like a scent, a signal that cuts through the air and travels far. I’ve heard about certain animals being attracted to it, drawn to the metallic tang that hangs in the wind. And now, as I feel the warmth trickling down my neck, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve

agitated, I can sense it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his eyes scan the surroundings like a hunter on high alert. We’re not alone. I know it. The forest seems to hold its breath, and I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The scent of my blood,

stories, whispered tales of creatures lurking in the shadows, drawn to the scent of blood like moths to a flame. In those stories, the protagonist is warned not to bleed, not to