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 mix of confusion and frustration.

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

huge chunk of her flesh, Victor.

of my being, a release of pent–up tension and absurdity. Victor’s face contorts with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

wipe away tears of laughter, realizing that in

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

bleeding. The pain throbs in my neck, and I feel a bit woozy. Zeke tears a piece

his voice

etched on my face.

the edges blurred by the persistent pain and the growing sense of faintness. But Zeke

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. Zeke, the

low and menacing. “Lucky that I

care of

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

strange mix

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

The pain intensifies, but Zeke’s presence is a reassuring constant. I steal

care.

Safe

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

me, his eyes a mix of concern and determination.

world around me blurs, edges fading into a fog of

your eyes open.” he says, his words a lifeline in the disorienting swirl of sensations. “Come on, I need you to do this for me.”

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 midst of chaos. I want

firm, a lifeline in the growing storm. I blink, struggling to

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

scoff, his voice a

off and leave me alone this time, you f**kers

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

ominous sounds in the distance. The world is dimming, the edges of consciousness

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

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 in

to it, drawn to the metallic tang that hangs in the wind. And now,

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,

stories, whispered tales of creatures lurking 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