The Mating Run by Leeka

Zeke’s POV

“Alina!”

In His Eyes: Dreams

The words come out in a choked scream, the syllables stretched and strained.

But there’s no response. Her empty gaze seems to pierce through the darkness, detached and unfazed by the struggle beneath her hands. My chest tightens with fear, as if sharp claws are digging into my ribs, demanding to be set free from the crushing grip that looms over me. Desperation and confusion mingled in my eyes as I wrestled against her tight grip.

“Alina, please!” Struggling to speak, I managed to rasp out my words, my plea echoing in the void that separated us. “Let me go!”

And then, as if jolted awake from a dream, her eyes widen with recognition. In an instant, the vacant look on her face is replaced by a surge of realization, as she comprehends the magnitude of what she is doing. The tightness around my throat loosens, allowing me to take a gasping breath and feel the immediate relief of fresh oxygen entering my lungs.

“Zeke?”

As she speaks, her voice wavers, conveying a sense of confusion and deep remorse. Clutching my throat, I could still feel the lingering sensation of her hands, like a ghostly touch.

“What… What happened, Alina?”

Horror and guilt immediately wash over her face, causing her to recoil. Her hands tremble uncontrollably as she gazes at them, her entire body filled with a sense of unease.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I just… I thought I was dreaming.”

As I sit up, the bed feels even colder than it did moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says, her voice a fragile apology in the quiet darkness. “I’m sorry.”

“Alina, it’s okay,” I murmur, my voice an attempt at reassurance. “It was… just a bad dream, right?”

As she looks at me, her eyes, clouded with remnants of the night’s confusion, well up with tears, revealing a blend of fear and sorrow on her face.

“I’m sorry, Zeke,” she whispers, her voice trembling, eyes never wavering from my neck. “I’m so sorry, sorry, so sorry…”

My hand reaches out, delicately cupping her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin.

fell.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry, come on.’

But her tears kept streaming down her face, leaving gentle pathways as they

I guide her to sit beside me on the bed, the cold reality of the night enveloping us in its presence. “Alina, you can’t blame yourself. We’re both trying to figure this out, and sometimes things get a little messy. It doesn’t change how I feel about

you.”

streaked with tears, remains a poignant display of sorrow. As I pull her into a

through this, Alina.

don’t want to

audible, revealing the fragile admission of

I say, my voice a gentle murmur. “We can’t predict what’ll happen, but we can face it together. And

She looks up, her gaze meeting mine with a mix of gratitude and longing. “I

“You’re worth every bit of patience and understanding.

reflecting pure horror, as her hands instinctively reached out to touch my neck. The moment her fingers make contact with my

“Zeke, you’re bleeding!”

mark on my neck, a tiny wound left behind by the strength of her grip during the nightmare. Alina’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of blood, her

As I reach for the

get you calmed

my voice a calming murmur. With a bandage in hand, I carefully unravel it, feeling the soft fabric and seeing the adhesive

on me, flickering between the bandage and my face, as if searching for answers. “I’m

bandage securely in place on my neck, I am relieved to feel the

Don’t worry about it.”

I could see a complex blend of gratitude and guilt reflecting in her eyes. As she tries to maintain her composure, there’s a lingering sense of vulnerability in

because of me,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the

out, gently brushing her hair away from her

focus never wavers from the bandage, her fingertips gently caressing the fabric as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden within the plain white surface. “I could have really hurt you, Zeke. What if it happens again? What if I can’t

the first aid kit aside, taking a moment to listen to the birds chirping in the distance. “We’ll find a way to manage it, Alina. And I won’t let you push yourself

weight of uncertainty, enveloping us in a shared vulnerability. My words, spoken with a quiet determination, act as an anchor, keeping us grounded in the midst of the unknown storm.

voice trembling with a touch of hesitation. “Maybe it’s better if I sleep outside. That way, I won’t hurt you.”

adamant about not allowing

alone.

anything, I should

eyes meet mine, a mixture

be angry at you. We’re navigating uncharted territory, and I won’t abandon you when you need support

finish, I guide her down the bed, encouraging her to lie back. This time, there’s no distance between us. Instead, I pull

overwhelmed, Alina,” I say, my fingers gently running through her hair. “We’ll figure this out, step by step.”

shaky breath, the weight of the night’s events still pressing on her. “I don’t want to hurt

words spoken in the quiet of the room. “You won’t, Alina. We’ll find a way through this, and I’m not

the traces of fear persist in her eyes, and I feel the need to lighten the atmosphere. “You know what

a small scoff, a hesitant

can be funny, even if

for the pack. Let’s just say, it ended up being more of a bonfire than a meal. The Alpha was so mad at me, he told

story, Alina’s laughter grows more genuine, erasing the lines of worry etched on her face. Her beautiful laugh

reflecting gratitude. “Thank you, Zeke. I needed that.”