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.

looks at me, his expression a mix of confusion

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

back. “You bit a huge chunk of her flesh, Victor. That’s all you did. Congratulations,

a laughter that comes from the depths of my being, a release of pent–up tension and absurdity. Victor’s face contorts with a mix

that in this moment, I’ve found a

the weight of Victor’s failed attempt at

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

says, his voice steady. “But not

confusion etched on my

the persistent pain and the growing sense of faintness. But Zeke doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stands up, his

impact echo in the air, sharp and jarring. Victor stumbles backward, his hand flying to his nose, blood trickling between

his voice low and

care of her first.”

words hang in the air, a palpable threat that adds another layer of tension. to the

feel a strange mix of gratitude and confusion.

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

is a reassuring constant. I steal a glance at Victor, who’s still recovering from Zeke’s punches. He’s groaning in pain, crawling

care.

Safe

of vulnerability. But then he returns with a water bottle, offering it

momentary respite from the throbbing pain. Zeke watches me, his eyes a mix of concern and determination. “We need to get you out of here,” he says, his

a fog of confusion. Zeke’s voice cuts through the

in the disorienting swirl of sensations. “Come on,

sinking into a dark pool. The 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

me, Alina,” Zeke’s voice is firm, a lifeline in the

growls intensify. It’s a cacophony that mirrors the chaos within

hear Victor scoff, his voice a grating

he declares, dismissive and callous. “Just f**k off and leave

eyes locking onto mine. “Ignore him, Alina. Focus on staying awake.” His words guide me through the disorientation. I try to nod, but it feels like a heavy effort. The sirens, the growls, Victor’s dismissive words–they all swirl around me,

the ominous sounds in the distance. The world is

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

the disorienting melody that 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 that envelops

heard about certain animals being attracted to it, drawn to the metallic tang that hangs in the wind.

alert. We’re not alone. I know it. 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 become prey to the unseen dangers