Page 22 of The Mating Games


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Would I reach her in time?

Would I be forced to watch, helpless, as another male Claimed her?

A clearing came into view, and there, in the center, was the female.

Her clothes were torn, her face flushed with fear and exertion.

But it was the look in her eyes that truly gripped me: determination mixed with terror.

She was trapped.

A Klarik was closing in on her, his movements deliberate and menacing.

His body was covered with a thick plumage of feathers, his beak sharpened to a point that could break boulders, its claws gripping the jungle floor with deep talons.

Every step he took toward her, she took two back until she was pinned against a giant tree.

Then, our eyes locked.

The female’s blue depths stared into mine, pleading, hopeful.

I couldn’t fail her.

I was no stranger to combat.

I had been in countless brawls, skirmishes, even full-blown battles.

But this was different.

The arena was unpredictable, the stakes incomprehensible.

And above all, the female’s safety was paramount.

As the scene before me played out, I could hear the thundering footfalls of the Xerok male drawing closer.

I knew he would have heard the scream, sensed the opportunity.

It was only a matter of time before he arrived, ready to claim what he thought was rightfully his.

The thick jungle foliage provided ample cover.

I crouched behind a gigantic leaf, my eyes never leaving the female’s.

She was fighting valiantly, her every move a dance of desperation.

But the Klarik male was relentless.

He had her pinned and was clearly relishing in his apparent victory.

Every instinct in me screamed to intervene, to save her from the impending doom.

But I also knew the value of timing.

Rushing in now would only expose me to both males, a scenario that wouldn’t end well for any of us.

As if on cue, the Xerok male burst onto the scene.

His roar was deafening, echoing through the trees and making birds scatter into the sky.

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