The Mating Run by Leeka
Chapter 46
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 and frustration.
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
hold back. “You bit a huge chunk of her flesh, Victor.
the 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
of laughter, realizing that in
and magical connections. Liberated from the weight of Victor’s failed attempt at claiming. It’s like a weight lifted
throbs in my neck, and I feel a bit woozy. Zeke tears a piece of his
his voice steady. “But not
etched on my face. Why?
pain and the growing sense of faintness. But Zeke doesn’t answer immediately.
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. Zeke, the usually calm
voice low and menacing. “Lucky that I have
care of her
hang in the air, a palpable threat that adds another layer of tension. to
strange mix
he sees my bewildered
is a reassuring constant. I steal a glance at
care.
Safe
with a water bottle, offering it to me. “Drink.”
the water providing a momentary respite from the throbbing pain. Zeke watches me, his eyes a mix of
a fog of
words a lifeline in the disorienting swirl of
a persistent reminder of Victor’s reckless actions. Zeke’s hand is on my shoulder, a
the growing storm. I blink, struggling to keep my
symphony, and the growls intensify. It’s a cacophony that
Victor scoff, his voice
callous. “Just f**k off and leave me alone this time, you f**kers
him, Alina. Focus on staying awake.” His words guide me through the disorientation. I try to nod, but it feels like a heavy effort.
that matches the ominous sounds in the distance. The world is dimming, the edges of consciousness slipping away like
to Zeke’s voice,
in the disorienting melody that surrounds us. I want to ask
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
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
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 become prey to the unseen dangers that roam
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