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.

me, his expression a mix of

should have automatically triggered a cosmic connection. I can’t help but shake my head. The

of her flesh, Victor. That’s all you

depths 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

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

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

on it,” he says, his

confusion etched on

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

backward, his hand flying to his nose, blood trickling between his fingers. I blink, trying to make sense of the scene unfolding before me. Zeke, the usually calm and composed one, is unleashing

lucky,” Zeke growls, his voice low and

of her first.”

palpable threat that adds another layer of

strange mix of

back to me, his eyes softening as he sees my bewildered expression. “I’m here,

as I press it onto the bleeding wound. The 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

care.

Safe

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

Zeke watches me, his eyes a mix of concern

into a fog of confusion. Zeke’s voice cuts

the disorienting swirl of sensations. “Come

try to comply, but everything feels heavy, 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, a steadying presence in the

the growing storm.

the growls intensify. It’s a cacophony that

Victor scoff, his voice a grating interruption.

time for dramatics,” he declares, dismissive and callous. “Just f**k off and leave

His words guide me through the disorientation. I try to nod, but it feels like a

ominous sounds in the distance. The

through my fingers. But i cling to Zeke’s voice,

each note playing a part in the disorienting melody that surrounds us. I want to ask Zeke what’s happening, why

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

surroundings like a hunter on high alert. We’re not alone. I know

tales of creatures lurking in the shadows, drawn to the scent of blood like moths to a flame.