Thoughts

My head hurts, throbbing like a drum beaten by invisible hands.

Darkness surrounds me, a heavy shroud that muffles the world. I try to open my eyes, but they feel glued shut. Slowly, I manage to pry them open, squinting against the harsh light. I see Zeke’s worried face hovering above me, lines of concern

etched on his forehead.

“Alina, can you hear me?” he asks, his voice a distant echo in my foggy mind.

I nod weakly, unable to find my voice. Everything feels fuzzy, like I’m floating in a dream. My body aches, and my limbs feel heavy, as if they’re made of lead. Zeke’s hand presses against my forehead, and I flinch at the cool touch.

“You’re burning up,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “We need to keep moving.”

Moving? Where are we?

My memories are a jumble of disjointed images, like a broken movie reel playing in my mind. I remember Victor, his teeth sinking into my flesh. The pain was searing, intense, but now it’s just a dull ache, a distant memory.

Zeke helped me escape, but from what?

Where are we running to?

Zeke lifts me effortlessly, cradling me in his arms. The world tilts, and I close my eyes against the disorienting sensation. When I open them again, we’re in a

different place a dimly lit room with a flickering lantern. Zeke eases me onto a makeshift bed, and I can feel the scratchy fabric beneath me.

“Drink this,” he says, holding a cup to my lips. I glance inside and see clear liquid. Water, maybe? I take a sip, the coolness soothing my parched throat. It’s a small victory, a step toward clarity.

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Thoughts

“Where are we?” I manage to mumble, my voice hoarse.

“Somewhere safe, for now,” Zeke replies, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting danger to burst through the walls. “You have a fever. I thought it wouldn’t get worse, but it did.”

“Oh…”

Zeke sighs, his jaw clenching.

in one place for

vulnerability. We walk, or rather, Zeke walks while I’m carried

mind.

smells of musty wood. Zeke lays me down on a narrow cot, and I watch as he rummages through a bag. He pulls out a small vial and a syringe, and my heart quickens with unease.

I ask,

replies, his gaze steady. “It’ll help with

Victor’s bite.”

down my spine. I hold my arm out hesitantly, watching as Zeke fills the syringe with a clear liquid. He finds a vein and injects the medicine. I flinch, a

“Better?” he asks.

I ask, my

Zeke changes the subject,

20

he asks, a forced cheerfulness in his tone. “I know you are, I heard your stomach rumbling a few seconds

but I’don’t deny

could eat.” I admit, my

reaches for a small pot beside him, and the aroma of porridge fills the air. I glance at him in surprise. “Where did you get

mischief in his eyes. “I have my

eyebrow, my curiosity piqued.

carries a trace of

just say I have a knack

bowl, I

hands me the bowl, and I take a

decent cook,” I tease, trying to lighten

smirks. “I have my talents.”

the silence between us filled with the clinking of spoons against the bowl. The porridge is a balm to the gnawing hunger within me, a reminder that even in the

isn’t telling me. The air is charged with unspoken secrets, and I wonder if the darkness that haunts us goes

empty bowl aside,

eats

of the Mating Run, I had simple dreams. Dreams of days spent with Ettie, the sun warming our faces as we laughed. Maybe even with Victor, his cocky grin and

I never expected that. We were supposed to navigate the challenges of the Mating Run together, support each

I don’t know when it happened, the shift from trust to trepidation, but it’s there, a lingering shadow in

gnaws at me.

that he would betray me. His charm, his smooth words – they were a mask hiding

when I let my guard down. It all seems like a cruel joke now. How could I have been so blind? How did

I never expected Victor to be the one to turn against me. In the beginning, he was a presence, a force that seemed untouchable. Now, he’s a threat, a reminder that even the ones who

a different path? Would I have avoided the Mating Run altogether,

Thoughts

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