The Mating Run

Chapter 58

In His Eyes: Vicious Zeke’s POV

The forest is alive with the scent of Alina’s blood, a trail that cuts through the crisp air like a morbid melody. Panic clenches my chest, each inhale saturated with the metallic tang that heralds danger. Running through the dense foliage, | can feel the urgency building within me, threatening to engulf my every thought.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

Navigating through the labyrinth of trees, | am constantly deceived by the playful shadows that seem to move and shift. With Alina’s life hanging in the balance, time seems to stretch on endlessly, each second dragging on with unbearable weight. My teeth clenched tightly, a wave of frustration surged through my veins, intensifying with each beat of my heart.

She shouldn't be suffering, not like this. | messed up big time by letting this happen.

As | barrel through the underbrush, a figure emerges from the shadows. As | walked, another Hunter suddenly appeared in front of me, obstructing my way. My desperate sprint is abruptly interrupted by his jarring presence, throwing me off course. | can feel the anger simmering beneath my skin, a fiery intensity that threatens to erupt.

“Don't f**k with me.” Snarling, | can feel the tension in my muscles, rippling just beneath my skin. “I ain’t got the time for this shit.”

Asmug smirk spreads across the Hunter’s face, intensifying my frustration. He points a spear in my direction, a crude weapon that mirrors the primitive hostility of our surroundings. Coming to a standstill, | can’t help but feel my fists clenching involuntarily. | don’t have a single moment to spare, especially when Alina’s life hangs in the balance.

“| know you,” The Hunter’s sneer deepens, his eyes narrowing with contempt, leaving no doubt about his disdain. “You're the one who murders people for sport,

aren't you?”

| shake my head, a mocking sound escaping my mouth. A low, seething voice escapes my lips, resonating through the forest like an echoing growl of frustration. Surveying the area, | frantically searched for an alternative route to avoid this pointless obstruction.

“Hey.” The Hunter repeats his words, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches, the tip of his spear pressing firmly against my chest. | stand my ground, not even wincing as he thrusts the spear lightly into my chest, the sharp point puncturing my flesh. “l asked you a question, for f**k’s sake. That's you, ain’t it? The Alpha’s goddamn lapdog.”

The question gnaws at me like an incessant ticking sound. I’m so over this, | just want him to move aside and drop dead. Killing him is out of the question for me. The cameras are all on me, and he wasn’t exactly wrong either. | am limited to taking out targets solely at the Alpha’s discretion. It frustrates me, but other than that, | can’t simply end someone’s life without justification.

| can’t kill his son, even though | really, really want to. | was given strict instructions to intimidate him enough that he would give up on the Mating Run. And the bastard didn't.

But the others don’t know that, do they? To them, | am nothing more than a merciless instrument of death. And maybe | am, maybe that’s the true essence of my being. Still, | couldn’t care less anymore.

Without knowing if Alina is safe or not, nothing else holds any significance.

But the Hunter remains obstinate, his spear a barrier between me and the desperate pursuit of Alina’s fading scent. The forest seems to close in around us, a claustrophobic space where the echoes of our conflict blend with the rustling leaves and ominous whispers of the trees.

The Hunter’s smirk widens, his confidence bolstered by my lack of weaponry.

“You think you can just run through here like you own the place? Not today. murderer. Today, you pay for your sins.” His words serve as both a challenge and a declaration, stoking the flames of my

anger.

With each step | took, my narrowed eyes served as a silent warning. | grip the spear tightly, feeling the rough texture of the wood against my palm as | effortlessly snap it in half.

“| won't hesitate to kill you if you get in my way. Move aside, now.”

Of course, that was a lie, especially given the cameras now fixated on me. The stakes were high, and a single mistake could cost me my life. The Alpha wasn’t someone you wanted to mess with. And this is another reason why Victor Craft

would be a worthless successor. He’s a dumbass who knows jack shit.

Despite everything, the Hunter’s defiance persists, his arrogance unwavering. With a swift motion, he lunges at me again, the weight of half the spear threatening to knock me off balance. Instinct kicks in, and | quickly sidestep, narrowly escaping the deadly trajectory with a rush of adrenaline.

My veins pulse with anger, electrifying my senses with a surge of adrenaline. “| already said | don’t have any time for this!” “Die!”

| need to wrap this up as soon as possible. With every passing moment, Alina slips further away. With each step, the Hunter moves with calculated precision, his eyes locked on his target. As | flex my fingers, a desperate longing for the comfort of a weapon consumes me, yet the forest remains silent, offering no solace, no respite from this primal confrontation.

The scent of blood, a haunting reminder of Alina’s plight, saturates the air. | can’t afford to be sidetracked by this petty skirmish, but the Hunter remains a

stubborn obstacle. As he lunges again, | dodge, my movements fueled by a raw determination to break free.

With a swift motion, | disarm the Hunter, the clang of the spear hitting the ground echoing through the air. | take advantage of the surprise in his widened eyes, seizing the moment of vulnerability. A powerful strike lands across his jaw, a testament to the frustration and anger that courses through me.

He stumbles backward, his head spinning for a moment.

Closing the distance between us, | take advantage of the opportunity. With each calculated strike, my fists unleash a torrent of controlled fury, a cathartic release of the building tension within me.

| don’t punch him with enough force to end his life, but it’s sufficient to render him unconscious. Or at least, | hope it does, he’s still blinking, his eyelids fluttering as he battles against it, even though it’s a lost cause. Gasping for breath, the Hunter struggles to orient himself, his senses overwhelmed by the relentless assault.

“You... You aren't... It's too late... to save her-”

Between labored breaths, he coughs and spits out saliva. A nerve pops in my head, and | let out a feral growl, delivering one final, forceful punch. As he laughs, blood splatters from his mouth, and he quickly turns to the side to spit out a few teeth coated in blood.

| grab him by the collar, my eyes ablaze with determination. “Tell me where the f** she is!”

With a low and menacing voice, | made my demand. Through his swollen lips, the Hunter's smirk is a twisted defiance that infuriates me. But he remains silent, an impenetrable barrier against the desperate pleas that pour out of me.

The forest pressed closer, its looming shadows transforming into macabre figures that silently observed my desperate attempt to regain my sanity. | tighten my grip on him, feeling the surge of frustration urging me to unleash my anger on this Hunter.

4/7 In this Eyes Vicious But the scent of Alina’s blood lingers, a chilling reminder of the true enemy that awaits beyond this petty skirmish.

Aprimal roar erupts from me, reverberating through the forest as | unleash the Hunter. In a final act of desperation, | deliver a powerful punch, leaving him. unconscious and defeated. He crumples to the ground, the weight of defeat evident. in his slumped shoulders and defeated posture. | spare no more thoughts for him.

Alina’s scent fills the air, beckoning me closer.

I run, my steps fueled by an unrelenting determination to reach her. The Hunter's taunts linger like a bitter aftertaste, but | push them aside. The forest seems to pulse with the urgency of my pursuit, the shadows converging as if guiding me towards the source of Alina’s suffering.

The scent of blood, though faint, becomes a beacon that guides me through the labyrinth of trees. My heart pounds in tandem with my footsteps, the rhythm a desperate plea for her survival. The shadows seem to retreat, acknowledging the gravity of my quest.

As | break through the dense foliage, a clearing emerges before me.

The ground is stained with the unmistakable hue of blood, a sinister tableau that churns my stomach with dread.

Two men stand in my path, their figures cloaked in shadows that dance with the eerie glow of moonlight. The air is heavy with a metallic scent, the unmistakable tang of blood that sends a shiver down my spine.

These men, armed with weapons tightly grasped, embody the impending threat of violence, their intentions made clear by the chilling sight of a bat decorated with rusty nails and a machete coated in crimson.

My steps falter, as a sudden surge of instinct warns me to proceed with caution. The clearing resembles a battlefield, with fallen branches and trampled grass, and | find myself standing on the edge of danger. The air is heavy with the scent of Alina’s blood, creating an eerie atmosphere that clouds the way forward.

The men’s faces are hidden in the shadows, but their determined expressions reveal their intent. They bore the marks of violence, a grim trail etched upon their bodies. Standing like protectors of a forbidden realm, the bat-wielder and machete— bearer’s looming shadows added a foreboding aura to the clearing.

| narrow my eyes, my throat emitting a low growl that reverberates through the air.

“Where the f**k is she?” | inhale deeply, desperately searching for a hint, a scent that will guide me to her. Behind them, a small cabin looms, its presence sending shivers down their spines amidst the forest. And | just knew, Alina was inside. “Give her back!”

“Give her back?” The man, with a bat in hand, let out a mocking laughter directed at my face. “No mark on her neck, she doesn’t belong to anyone.”

My mind goes blank, leaving behind only a boiling rage. The sound that escapes my lips is a low, guttural growl, completely unrecognizable as my own.

“Give her back to me!”

The bat—wielder takes a step forward, a wicked grin stretching across his face. The nails on the bat glint with a malevolent gleam, a cruel parody of a weapon designed to inflict pain. The machete—bearer remains silent, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Why are you in such a rush? How about we have some fun playing a game and getting to know each other? Since we know a lot about you, it’s only fair you want to know more about us too.”

My fists clench at my sides, frustration and anger swirling within me.

My instincts scream for me to charge, to tear through these men and reach Alina’s side. Yet, caution prevails, a calculated awareness that this is not a battle to be rushed into blindly.

Finally, they lunged towards me, their eyes filled with aggression.

The bat—wielder lunges, a savage cry tearing through the air. | sidestep, a dance of evasion that mirrors the primal choreography of the forest. The machete-bearer follows suit, a silent predator closing in on its prey.

My movements are a fusion of instinct and calculated precision. | weave through their attacks, a seamless dance that defies the encroaching darkness. The bat-wielder’s swings become frenzied, desperation creeping into his every motion. The machete— bearer remains a silent enigma, his every strike measured and deliberate.

| retaliate, my muscles tense as a surge of raw power courses through me, driving me forward.