The Mating Run

There’s something I need you to understand.

I’m sorry. Truly.

For everything you’re about to see, for the choices I made, for the things I did. It’s not easy for me to admit this, but you deserve the truth, or at least my version of it.

I need you to believe me when I say that I never intended for things to go so wrong. I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I did what was necessary to stay alive, but I want to make it clear, I never found any joy in it. Even now, I remain unchanged - still the same Alina who embarked on the Run with unwavering hope and determination.

I’m not a monster.

I’m not.

That might leave you questioning, wondering if it’s true or not. Maybe you’ll see a side of me that I’ve tried to keep hidden, even from myself. The truth is, in the heart of the forest, when the Run begins, something changes. I hope you believe me. When people are left to their own devices, they tend to lose their common sense. They become savage. And I’m sorry. But please, believe me when I say I had no other choice.

You see - Love makes people into monsters.

I used to believe that I was above them—those individuals who allowed their hearts to corrupt their minds, transforming them into something completely foreign. But I was wrong.

When you find yourself backed into a corner, your primal instincts take over, leaving you with no other option but to fight or flee. You become the very embodiment of the monster that once haunted your nightmares.

I learned this the hard way.

You see, in the Springcrest Pack, we don’t just find our mates, we run for them.

This year, I am caught in the midst of the Mating Run, a dark and twisted tradition that brings out the worst in all of us. Year after year, as I grew up, I observed the annual occurrence without fail.

The Run had a profound effect on people, causing friends, neighbors, and even family members to change in unexpected ways. Under the cover of night, primal desires and unchecked obsessions would overpower them, compelling them to commit acts they never thought possible.

According to the High Council Elders, the tradition was regarded as a sacred ritual, intended to identify the most formidable pairs. And I believed every word they said, without a doubt.

But when I was part of the game, I saw the true nature of it - a ruthless contest driven by power, manipulation, and the instinct to survive. I thought I understood what I was getting into when I signed up. I thought I could handle it. I was wrong.

The Run, they say, is where deep connections are formed, yet to me, it appears as a battleground where the boundaries between love and fixation become hazy. Every touch, every glance, carries an undercurrent of concealed intentions and sinister longings. I used to believe that love was pure, that it could lift you up and make you whole.

But here, in the shadow of the Run, love becomes a weapon, and trust is a luxury you can’t afford.

I wanted to join the Mating Run.

People can point their fingers at me for making that choice. Call me an idiot, naive, someone who can’t read the room. They can say I thought it was all fun and games. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I was naive to swallow every lie that the High Council Elders fed us.

But I never wanted anyone dead. I never wanted it to turn out like this.

Survival became the only law, and common sense was the first casualty. I had to adapt, to become something else, something darker, just to make it through each day. The forest does that to you. It whispers to your fears, feeds your paranoia, until you can’t tell friend from foe, or right from wrong.

I know now that love isn’t about choice.

It’s a game, a ruthless one where the stakes are high and the consequences are everything. The veneer of civility is shattered during The Mating Run, leaving behind only the untamed, primal instincts. It’s a trial that requires both physical strength and mental cunning, as well as a ruthless mindset. It’s a crucible, a place where the weak are stripped away, leaving only the strong who transform into formidable beasts.

I remember the start of the Run, the hushed anticipation that filled the air as the crowd grew silent. I was a bundle of nerves, but there was also a bubbling sense of excitement within me. In my mind, I held onto the belief that I could prove something, not only to myself but also to everyone else. But as soon as I stepped into those woods, the thrill faded, replaced by an unsettling feeling that something was watching me from the shadows.

The forest is a living thing, you see, whispering secrets and threats with every rustle of leaves. You can feel the weight of eyes on you, the presence of others—watchful competitors, lurking predators, and potential mates. Trust becomes a distant memory as the distinction between friend and foe fades away rapidly.

I made choices. Some were calculated, some were desperate. And yes, some were absolutely merciless. But every choice was a means to an end: to survive and to find the one person who could truly be my mate, someone who could see beyond the monster the Mating Run tried to turn me into. You might think I’m hiding the truth or twisting it to make myself look better.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am.

I wasn’t prepared for how quickly things would escalate, how the Mating Run would push us - me to my limits.

So here it is. Raw and unfiltered.

And through it all, I swear to you, I am not a monster.

I’m not asking for your forgiveness or your sympathy. I’m just asking you to try to understand.

I’m Alina. I tried to survive the only way I know how.

I’m so overwhelmed that I can’t decide whether to scream in ecstasy or agony.

“Please, please, please!”

His strong hands guide me back and forth with each powerful thrust, causing me to moan uncontrollably.

I am completely lost in the pleasure of his c*ck moving in and out of me, my eyes closed in ecstasy.

Bubbling moans and pleas spill from my mouth, the words tumbling over each other incoherently. If the timing had been different, I wouldn’t have thought twice about pushing him off. The dirt and grime on the ground make the experience of being f*ck*d revolting, but the pleasure of the s*x is unparalleled.

Every time his c*ck pushes inside of me, I feel my insides getting destroyed.

“That’s it. Take it. You can take it.”

“F*ck, f*ck!”

My mind tells me I don’t want this, but my body craves it, nonetheless.

Arching my back against him, I push my hips towards him, urgi