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.

his expression a

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 logic is almost endearing, in a comically clueless way. “This

huge chunk of her flesh, Victor. That’s

and absurdity. Victor’s face contorts with a mix of embarrassment and anger. It’s

realizing that in this moment, I’ve

Liberated from the expectations of cosmic bonds and magical connections. Liberated from the weight of Victor’s failed attempt at claiming. It’s like a weight

pain throbs in my neck, and I feel a bit woozy. Zeke tears a piece of his hoodie, and without a

it,” he says, his voice

etched on my face.

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

watch in a daze as Zeke delivers two swift punches to Victor’s face. The 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

Zeke growls, his voice low and

care of

threat that adds another layer of tension. to the already

feel a strange mix of gratitude and confusion.

eyes softening as he sees my bewildered expression. “I’m here, Alina. What do you

against my skin as I press it onto the bleeding wound. The pain intensifies, but Zeke’s presence is a reassuring constant. I steal a

care.

Safe

up, leaving me momentarily, and I feel a twinge of vulnerability. But then he returns with a water

water providing a momentary respite from the throbbing pain. Zeke watches me, his eyes a mix of concern and

fading into a fog of confusion. Zeke’s voice cuts through the haze, urgent

disorienting swirl of sensations. “Come on, I need you to

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

in the growing storm. I blink, struggling to keep my eyes open. “Please.”

sirens wail, a mournful symphony, and the growls intensify. It’s a cacophony that mirrors the chaos

scoff, his voice

off and

His words guide me through the disorientation. I try to nod,

ominous sounds in the distance. The

through my fingers. But i cling to Zeke’s voice, the anchor that keeps me from

surrounds us. I want to ask Zeke what’s happening, why everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control, but the words remain trapped in the fog

the metallic tang that hangs in the wind. And now, as

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

the scent of blood like moths to a flame. In those stories, the protagonist is warned not to bleed, not to become prey to the unseen dangers