Chapter 136: Kill Them All

Chapter 136: Kill Them All
Xavier’s POV
The decision had already been made the moment the scarred hunter showed himself. There would be no walking away from this. These men weren’t villagers wandering the forest. They were killers. And, unfortunately, it seemed werewolves were their prey.
As the Beta who had been in countless battles, he knew he couldn’t negotiate. Not most of the time. And, as always, fighting had been the best way to resolve conflict — even in this world.
Magnus trembled at his side. He was consumed by anger, the Gamma’s wolf clawing at the surface, desperate to tear that grin off the bastard’s face. But Xavier wouldn’t allow it. He just couldn’t.
Magnus was wildfire. Far too important to burn out on a nonsense fight like this. No — Magnus was needed for something greater. Only for Meredith and nothing else.
And Xavier had always been the one to take the weight others couldn’t. That was his duty and the vows he had made.
The scarred hunter’s smirk widened when Xavier stepped closer. His dark eyes gleamed like someone who had just been handed exactly what he wanted.
“You’ll do,” the man drawled, his blade glinting under the moonlight. “I’ve been in enough fights to know which ones bite the hardest.”
“We’ll see about that,” Xavier said simply.
He let the words slide past him, closed his eyes, and inhaled slowly, letting his wolf rise.
Bones cracked, muscles stretched, skin tore. The shift ripped through him in brutal waves. His hands burst into claws, his eyes sharpened, and the growl that left his throat shook the trees.
When he stood tall again, it was on four powerful limbs, his fur bristling black as shadow.
His wolf — his true form — had finally been freed.
The scarred hunter grinned like a man who had been waiting for this his entire life. He raised his blade in a lazy salute, tilting his head back slightly.
“That’s more like it,” he said. “Show me what makes you different from all the others I’ve played with...”
Xavier’s answer was a deafening snarl. His paws dug deep into the soil, claws carving the ground as he crouched low. His muscles coiled tight, his eyes never leaving his opponent.
Around them, the other hunters shifted their grips on their weapons, forming a half-circle. Meanwhile, Magnus growled low from the edge of the clearing, forced to obey.
At that moment Xavier realized this was no longer about bargaining. No longer about questions. It was about proving to them that no one — not man, not hunter, not a scarred bastard holding a toy — would stand between him and Meredith.
The duel began. The scarred hunter moved first, too fast for a normal man. His blade caught the moonlight as it swept in a tight arc toward Xavier’s flank. Xavier lunged sideways, dirt spraying beneath his paws, but not fast enough to avoid the scratch of silver.
The edge grazed his shoulder, searing like fire. His wolf snarled, muscles tightening.
The hunter laughed, circling him in light steps. His blade spun casually in his hand. “Come on, dog,” he said. “You think I haven’t done this before?”
Xavier bared his fangs, but he didn’t charge recklessly. He forced himself to breathe through the ache, to think carefully.
He wanted them to make him wild. An easy cut after the first burn.
The hunter did not waste time and darted in again, this time low, aiming to hamstring him. Xavier feinted left, then snapped his jaws around the blade’s flat, biting down hard.
Pain scorched his mouth as the silver hissed against his tongue, but his teeth clamped anyway. With a violent twist, he wrenched the weapon off course.
The hunter stumbled a step, seemingly surprised. He recovered quickly and pulled a dagger from his belt, slashing upward, quick as lightning, grazing Xavier’s ribcage.
Blood welled, hot and rank against the cool night air.
Xavier growled, muscles coiling. He circled, watching. The hunter kept low, always moving, never still.
He realized every strike was meant not to kill him outright but to weaken him: bleed him, burn him, slow him until he fell.
In short, the hunter wanted to play him.
“He might be used to werewolves,” Xavier thought coldly. “Brutes who rely only on physical strength. But I am not one of them. He’s not ready for me yet.”
The hunter lunged again, dagger flashing for Xavier’s throat. Xavier dropped low at the last second, his wolf body twisting like a spring. His claws tore through the earth as he spun, slamming his hind legs into the man’s chest.
The impact sent the hunter flying back into a tree, bark splintering under the force.
Still, the bastard laughed. He dragged himself up, wiping the smear of blood at the corner of his lips. “Not bad...” he remarked.
Xavier stalked closer, pinning his ears and steadying the rhythm of his breath. The hunter raised his blade again, but his grip trembled slightly. Xavier saw it through his heightened senses.
He saw everything — the fatigue in the hunter’s left arm, the shallow hitch in his breathing where a rib had cracked.
“That’s my opening,” he thought.
The hunter feinted left. Xavier didn’t fall for it. He surged right, faster than the man could recover, claws slashing across his weapon arm.
The silver blade clattered to the ground, useless.
The hunter cursed, fumbling for his dagger, but Xavier was already on him. His massive frame slammed into the man, pinning him to the dirt. Teeth bared inches from his throat, claws digging into his chest.
The hunter still grinned, even under Xavier’s weight. “Do it,” he commanded through a choked voice. “Prove me right.”
Xavier’s growl rumbled dangerously through the clearing. Every instinct screamed at him to tear, to end it. But his mind stayed sharp despite everything else.
Killing this man might doom them all, even if his life meant nothing to the hunters.
So instead of sinking his teeth in, Xavier pressed harder, claws nicking the hunter’s chest just enough to draw blood. His silver eyes burned into the man’s.
“You underestimated me,” Xavier said, his voice rough through his wolf’s throat.
The lead hunter’s breath came ragged beneath Xavier’s claws. His grin had faltered. When Xavier didn’t sink his teeth into his throat — when he held back — the man barked a sinister laugh.
“Coward,” he spat. “A beast with fangs who won’t bite. I should’ve known...”
Xavier’s snarl deepened, but before he could press harder the hunter twisted violently, rolling his shoulder in a swift movement. A sting cut Xavier’s forearm where silver from a hidden blade grazed him, just enough to break his grip.
The man slipped free, stumbling back to his feet.
“Enough of this.” He raised his hoarse voice sharply. “Kill them all!”