However, the man proved far more resilient than expected. Midair, he twisted his body with astonishing agility, flipping so that instead of his back slamming into the trunk and shattering his spine, his feet struck it first.
Using the tree as leverage, he pushed off in a burst of speed, propelling himself straight back toward Maxwell, his claws extending from beneath the folds of his cloak, gleaming like blades in the dim light.
But this time, Maxwell didn’t dodge. Instead, he made the deliberate choice to take the hit, letting the enemy’s claws sink deep into his flesh. He angled his body just enough to keep the blow from striking any vital spot that would kill him outright.
There was a saying: to kill your greatest enemy, you must be willing to lose an arm or a leg. And Maxwell was prepared to do just that.
He would endure the pain, he would bleed if he must, because this wasn’t just a fight anymore. This was vengeance. He would kill Greg, with his own hands and finally avenge Addison’s suffering from three years ago.
But because of this action, Maxwell immediately shifted back into his human form, and the man’s attack struck him square in the abdomen. The claw tore into his stomach, piercing several organs and forcing a gush of blood from his lips.
Yet, instead of collapsing, Maxwell stood tall like a pine tree against the wind. His hand shot out, clamping down on the cloaked man’s arm with a vice-like grip, refusing to let go no matter how hard the man struggled to break free.
"Ugh!" The cloaked man groaned as Maxwell’s grip tightened with brutal force, a sharp crack echoing between them, the sound of bone giving way. Blood trickled from Maxwell’s mouth, running down his chin, but he showed no sign of pain.
His bloodshot eyes burned with murderous fury as he glared daggers at the man before him.
The cloaked man struggled desperately, and just as Maxwell raised his clawed hand to slash his throat, the man wrenched himself free and stumbled backward as he sacrificed his hand leaving it looking limp and twisted in a scary angle.
Maxwell was determined to finish him, but even his willpower couldn’t mask the toll on his body; his movements faltered for a split second. That brief delay gave the cloaked man a chance to retreat. In his frantic motion, his hood slipped down, revealing his face to Maxwell’s stunned eyes.
"What the fuck?!" Maxwell blurted out, his body going weak as his gaze locked onto the man before him. The fire in his red-rimmed eyes flickered out, giving way to disbelief and confusion that froze him in place.
Why?
Because the man standing before him looked nothing like the one Zion had described. Levi had even drawn a sketch after Zion’s report so that Lance and Maxwell could easily recognize Greg when they saw him.
But to their shock, the man in front of Maxwell wasn’t Greg at all, he resembled Chase, the man Zion had also mentioned.
So why had Maxwell been convinced this man was Greg? Because Chase had gone to extreme lengths to deceive them, he had tied one arm tightly against his body with rubber and gauze, creating the illusion that he was missing a limb, just like Greg.
"Fuck! This is a diversion!" Maxwell muttered, his body tensing as the realization hit him. He almost leapt forward, wanting to rush out and check the other areas.
"This is a setup," he growled, his mind snapping into focus as alertness flooded back. It all made sense now, Chase had used himself as bait, drawing most of the warriors from the Northeast to assist Maxwell, leaving the rest of the Golden Hue Pack’s borders dangerously under-defended.
Realizing this, Maxwell quickly pieced everything together. Since Zion had encountered Greg in the forest and overheard his plan to attack at night, Greg must have realized his presence had been discovered.
So, he sent Chase to act as his stand-in, a decoy to draw attention, while he moved elsewhere. But where was he now? With Chase and the majority of their forces gathered around Maxwell, it could only mean one thing, Greg was sneaking into another location, likely where they least expected.
"Old Hue! This is a trap!" Maxwell shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Send word to the rest of the border patrol, tighten security and search for attackers along the other borders!"
He yelled at the top of his lungs, knowing he couldn’t mindlink Alpha Hue. He didn’t care that Chase and the enemy could hear him, there was no time to explain, only to act.

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