The Mating Run by Leeka (Alina and Zeek)
The Mating Run by Leeka Chapter 64

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Zeke’s POV 

Alina’s movements were noticeably faster this time around. 

As she twists, her b*dy sl*ps through my fingers and I lose my grip on her. Before I knew it, her claws were outstretched, glinting dangerously as they aimed straight at my n*eck. I don’t duck as quick as I hoped, and her claws stratches a part of my jaw. Pain courses through my b*dy as I bleed, causing me to groan and wince. 

Just as I was about to reach for her again, Alina takes a step back, her b*dy tense and rigid. At first, I thought she was doing so because she was in a trance again. But as I look at her face, I notice the tense set of her jaw and the creases on her forehead, all signs of frustration. With a snarl on her l*ps and her fingers twitching, it was clear that she had a desire to hurt me once more. 

But instead of walking towards me, she’s now moving away with stiff, measured 

strides. 

I approach her, but she responds by shaking her head, her vacant eyes staring straight through me. Watching her, I couldn’t help but notice the way she moved with purpose towards the nearest tree. Right in front of it, she stops abruptly, her b*dy tense as she firmly presses both hands against the rough bark of the tree. 

“Alina…?” 

With a wince, I try again, feeling the sharp ache in my stomach. I look down, feeling my eyes blink rapidly as the world around me becomes a blur. Blood was pouring out of me in an alarming quantity. The urgency of our situation becomes apparent – if I don’t act quickly, we will both die. 

Then Alina started violently smashing her head against the tree trunk. 

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Each time, she would smash her head against the tree with even greater force than before. 

“Alina!” 

Shouting at the top of my lungs, I rush towards her. My steps become 

unsteady, my eyesight growing hazy, yet I persist. The impact of her head hitting the tree sends a shudder through my chest, a resounding echo of the torment she suffers. Desperate to save her, I reach out with trembling hands, but she stands firm, refusing to be moved. 

Her words tumble out in fragmented stutters, her voice laced with anguish and an overwhelming sense of urgency. 

“I–I have to stop… the voices-” 

“What? What voices, Alina?” My heart races, its pounding echoing in my chest, as I feel utterly helpless at this moment. My hands tremble uncontrollably as I plead with her, desperately trying to pull her away from the destructive hold of the tree. “Please, you have to let me help you.” 

But she resists, the vacant look in her eyes mirroring the struggle within her tortured mind. The forest seems to close in around us, bearing witness to a battle unseen, unheard. 

“Zeke,” she mutters, her voice a fragile whisper amidst the chaos. “The… voices… voices won’t stop. They’re… tearing me apart.” 

My mind races, desperately seeking a solution to reach her, to release her from the unseen chains that hold her captive. 

“I don’t hear any voices, Alina,” My voice trembled with desperation as I spoke. “It’s just you and me here. What are the voices saying?” 

With a gaping wound on her forehead, blood trickles down her face, leaving a trail of red in its wake. Wincing, I hastily reach out and grab her again, using all my strength to separate her from the tree. This time, she comes to a sudden halt, blood trickling from her forehead and landing on her nose. Gripping the sides of her head, 

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she tries to cling to her sanity, sl*pping away like sand sl*pping through her fingers. 

“I can’t… I can’t make them stop,” she confesses, her words laced with anguish. “They’re telling me things, horrible things. I just want them to go away!” 

As i struggle to understand the pain she is going through, tears cloud my eyes and make it hard to see. My fingers gently brush against the back of her n*eck as I reach out for her again. Hesitantly, I press her head against my shoulder, feeling the weight of her pain and the warmth of her blood seeping through my skin. 

“We’ll find help, Alina. We’ll get through this-” 

“Stop…Stop it-” 

I know this time, her words are directed at someone else, not me. As her hands press against my chest, I feel the slight quiver in her touch. I can feel the struggle within her, the desire to keep me at arm’s length battling with the urge to wrap me in a tight embrace. 

“What are they telling you? The voices? 

Now I know the serum they’ve injected her with, and its effects are becoming evident. I’ve witnessed it countless times. The Alpha’s long list of enemies led him to devise a strategy that involved his pawns like me using this very thing against 

them. 

A Hupnos. The serum had a deceptive effect, making the victim feel as though they were in a deep slumber, unaware of the control someone else had over them. It is probable that she was injected with a serum by those who abducted her, and they subsequently instructed her to inflict pain upon me. 

My fingers glide through her hair, and I sense her b*dy stiffening beneath my touch. 

“…Kill…you.” 

She remains motionless in my embrace, her empty gaze fixated on a world only she can fathom. I attempt to draw her nearer, longing to surround her with the 

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tender warmth of my hug, but her b*dy remains stiff and unresponsive. 

“I hate seeing you like this,” I confess, the weight of my words lingering in the air. “I hate that I can’t do anything to help you.” 

f 

My frustration seemed to reverberate through the forest, carried by its echoing sounds. As I press my l*ps against her forehead, I can’t help but feel the weight of a thousand apologies, each one spoken through the touch of my l*ps. 

“You’re not alone, Alina,” I whisper, my words a feeble attempt to pierce the veil of her suffering. “I’m here with you.” 

A tremor passes through her, sending shivers down her spine as she tries to contain the pain within. I hold her tighter, feeling the warmth of her b*dy against mine. 

Reluctantly, I break away from the embrace, my heart yearning for just a few more seconds of warmth. Tears cascade down her cheeks, even though her eyes remain empty and emotionless. As my hand rises slowly, I delicately wipe away her tears, the warmth of her skin against my fingertips. 

Her skin was pale, except for the vivid crimson mark on her forehead, a testament to a recent wound. With utmost care, I gently remove the blood, my touch mimicking the gentle rustling of leaves. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice a murmured apology as my fingers linger on the wound. “I wish I could protect you from everything.” 

Alina remains silent, her l*ps tightly sealed. 

The unspoken words create a dense atmosphere that fills the space between us. With a gentle motion, I lean in and press my l*ps against her forehead. I pull away and find myself captivated by her face, scrutinizing every nook and cranny with intense curiosity. Her beauty was ever–growing, and with each passing second, my love for her deepened. I lean in, my l*ps finding hers in a slow and gentle k*ss. I can still taste the saltiness of her tears on my l*ps. 

“I won’t give up on you, Alina,” I vow, my words a whispered promise against her 

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mouth. “No matter how hopeless it seems, I’ll stand by you.” 

The night settled around us like a soft, velvet cloak, and Alina’s b*dy went slack in my embrace, her head resting gently on my shoulder. A sigh of fatigue escaped me, its sound barely audible against the backdrop of the cool night air. She’d fainted, her face finally freed from the torment that had been etched across it. 

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” I murmured to the silent forest, my words carried away by the night breeze. “But maybe, just maybe, this is the rest you 

need.” 

Holding Alina in my arms, I carefully navigate the well–known path, conscious of the hidden cameras observing our every move. Their watchful gaze never wavered, tracking our every step, and I felt an intense urge to rip their eyes out. The moon’s glow illuminated the lenses, turning them into malevolent eyes that bore into the privacy we so desperately sought. 

“You’ll be okay,” I whispered to Alina, as if the words could pierce through the veil of her unconsciousness. “We’ll find a way to make it okay.” 

As she breathed, a sense of calmness washed over me, her rhythmic exhales echoing against my chest. I could feel the weariness in every inch of my b*dy, a testament to the enduring impact of our shared struggle. I walked through the silent night, the only noise breaking the stillness being the crunch of leaves under my steps. 

Its wooden frame stood tall and sturdy, contrasting against the dark shadows that surrounded it as the cabin neared. As the door creaked open, a musty smell 

wafted out from the dim interior. 

With utmost care, I gently placed Alina on the improvised bed, the soft glow of moonlight illuminating her pale complexion. 

“I’ll be right here,” I assured her, my fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Rest, Alina. I’ll be right here.” 

Glancing around the dimly lit room, my eyes strain to find any sign of a first aid kit to tend to our wounded bodies. I can’t help but notice a small bag that instantly 

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captures my interest. Curiosity takes over as I open it with a glimmer of hope. 

Inside, a modest first aid kit sits patiently, filled with sterile bandages and soothing ointments. 

As I reach for it, my fingers graze the smooth, cool surface of the metal kit. As I carry it to where Alina lies, a sigh of sadness escapes me involuntarily. I sit down beside Alina, gently settling myself on the makeshift bed, feeling its uneven surface beneath me. 

With a focused gaze, I unlatch the first aid kit and slowly lift the lid, exposing its array of bandages, ointments, and medical tools. My attention shifts to Alina. Tenderly, I lift her head, my hands gently cupping her delicate face, as I inspect the wound on her forehead. 

The sterile wipe glides over her skin. She stirs, her brow furrowing slightly as if caught between the lingering pain of reality and the haze of dreams. My heart is heavy as I witness the pain, longing to shield her from the torment that continues to plague her, even in the depths of sleep. 

The ointment is next, its cool touch a balm against the warmth of her skin. With careful strokes, I apply it, my fingers delicately tracing the contours of her forehead. The bandage, a plain white strip, adhered to her skin as I pressed it gently. 

Then I start with myself, I carefully clean my wounds with alcohol, wincing at the stinging sensation. The wound on my stomach throbs with an intense, agonizing pain. Despite wincing, I soldier on, fueled by my determination to alleviate the searing pain coursing through my b*dy. 

“Damn.” 

I mutter softly, my eyes scanning the extent of the damage. The throbbing pain from the gash on my cheek and the tender ache of the bruise on my jaw is unbearable. The sight of the blood and dirt caked onto my b*dy was a grim reminder of the miracle that I had managed to survive. 

With unwavering precision, I tend to the wounds, meticulously removing the crimson stains from my flesh. The sterile wipe stings as it removes the dirt, but the temporary pain is worth the refreshing feeling of cleanliness. Once cleaned, I gently 

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apply the ointment to my wounds, feeling instant relief as its cooling properties soothe the heated ache. The bandages snugly coil around my stomach, providing a makeshift shield that eases the lingering pain. 

“You’re strong, Alina,” I murmur, my words more a plea than a reassurance. “I wish you could see that.” 

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