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.

expression a mix of confusion and

automatically triggered a cosmic connection. I can’t help but shake my head. The simplicity of his logic is almost endearing, in a comically

of her flesh, Victor. That’s all you did. Congratulations, you played yourself.”

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.

wipe away tears of laughter, realizing that in this

weight of Victor’s failed attempt at claiming. It’s like a weight lifted off my shoulders,

Zeke tears a piece of his hoodie, and without a word, he covers

says, his voice steady.

confusion 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

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 the scene unfolding before me.

his voice low and menacing. “Lucky

care of her first.”

air, a palpable threat that adds another layer of tension. to

strange mix

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

constant. I steal a glance at Victor, who’s still recovering from

care.

Safe

a water bottle, offering it to

the throbbing pain. Zeke watches me, his eyes a mix of concern and determination. “We need to get you out of

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

words a lifeline in the disorienting swirl of

like I’m 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,

firm, a lifeline in the growing storm. I blink, struggling to keep my eyes open.

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

Victor scoff, his

off and leave me alone this time, you

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

hear Zeke mutter something, a low growl that matches the ominous sounds in

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

menacing, and the sirens intensify. It’s like a symphony of chaos, each note playing a part in 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

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 become a beacon in the forest.

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, a vulnerable invitation to unseen

to the scent of blood like moths to a flame. In those stories, the protagonist is warned