Page 21 of The Mating Games


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My senses caught a whiff of something.

A light, floral scent, distinctly human.

The female.

Following the trail, I soon stumbled upon a smaller glass capsule nestled between two giant ferns.

The door was ajar, but she was nowhere in sight.

The floral scent was stronger here.

The dim light from the capsule revealed footprints leading away, confirming my suspicion that she’d chosen a different path this time.

I was about to follow her trail when a low, guttural growl pierced the air.

Another contestant.

My ears pinpointed the sound, coming from the east.

The direction the female’s footsteps had gone.

Panic swelled within me.

I crouched low, blending into the foliage as much as my large frame would allow.

Peering through the dense leaves, I caught sight of a male, his massive form moving with surprising grace for his size.

Every fiber of his being was tuned to the hunt, to the chase.

He was a Xerok.

He was in his element.

And though I wouldn’t openly admit it, there was a grudging respect for the beast, a recognition of another predator in the wild.

Before I could act, a bone-chilling scream rang out.

The Xerok’s head shot up, and his eyes, reflecting the green of the jungle, darted in the direction of the sound.

His lips curled back in a savage grin, revealing rows of sharp teeth.

The hunt was on.

My heart raced, and for a split second, I was paralyzed, torn between revealing my position or saving the female.

Then, with a roar, I launched myself forward, my sole focus on finding her before it was too late.

Every sound, every rustle became a beacon guiding me.

As I darted past trees and leaped over rocks, the thick jungle air became an oppressive force, each breath labored.

There was no stopping now.

The screams grew louder and more desperate.

I pushed myself harder, faster.

But deep down, a nagging thought gnawed at me.

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