The Villains Must Win-Chapter 170: Lyander Wolfhart 20

Her mouth opened, breath caught between a scream and a plea when suddenly—

"Wait."

The word rang out, clear and commanding.

The crowd froze. All eyes turned as the sea of bodies parted like rippling water.

There he was.

Lyander.

He moved with slow, deliberate steps, his expression carved in stone. His presence was like a storm rolling in—low, dark, and full of warning.

Liora watched the shift in the pack’s energy. Even the most defiant wolves stepped aside, lowering their gazes as he passed.

He came to a stop between Jason and Henry, his sharp eyes flicking between the two of them.

"I won’t allow this," Lyander said flatly, his voice ringing with quiet authority—like steel striking flint.

His gaze never wavered, burning into Jason like twin blades of ice. "Henry is barely a man—much less one who can fully shift. If you want a duel for the right to lead, then I’ll gladly take his place as his champion."

Gasps rippled through the gathered pack members. A murmur spread like wildfire, some startled, some eager—others clearly worried.

Jason’s scowl deepened. "Stay out of this, rouge. This doesn’t concern you."

But Lyander only gave a slow, amused grin—the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, all teeth and challenge. "Oh, but it does. Henry paid me a very generous sum to defend this pack. I’m his sword. His shield. His teeth, if needed." His tone sharpened as he tilted his head. "Or are you afraid to face me?"

Jason’s fists clenched, jaw ticking. "You think I’d fear you?"

"I don’t think," Lyander said coolly. "I know."

The crowd stirred again, watching the tension build, the storm about to break.

Jason’s face twisted, a mix of insult and hesitation. His pride wouldn’t let him back down, but the truth was there—Lyander wasn’t just any warrior. He was fast. Deadly. Unpredictable. And he had been tested in ways most wolves never had.

"I saw how Rhett fought," Lyander continued, his voice low but carrying. "And I can say for certain we match in strength and speed . . . and I’m sure enough to put your arrogance to the test. If you can defeat me then you can defeat Rhett."

Jason’s lips curled. "Fine. If I defeat you, then I’m the new Alpha."

Lyander turned his head slightly, casting a glance at Henry without breaking his stance. "Is that alright with you, Alpha?"

Henry, standing just behind him, met his gaze. Despite the whirlwind of emotions dancing behind his eyes—fear, pressure, gratitude—he gave a single, steady nod.

"Yes," he said quietly. "If he defeats you, I’ll yield."

Liora watched in breathless silence, heart pounding so hard it hurt. This wasn’t what she had expected—but maybe, it was what the pack needed. Because if there was anyone who could stand between chaos and order, it was Lyander.

It was better him than Henry. Lyander could fight Jason than a fourteen year old boy, and it wasn’t her place to voice her opinion here.

The tension in the clearing was palpable as Jason and Lyander faced each other, the air thick with anticipation.

Jason, muscles taut and eyes blazing, launched the first attack, his fists aiming for Lyander’s jaw. But Lyander, calm and composed, sidestepped effortlessly, his movements a blur. He countered with a swift elbow to Jason’s ribs, causing the larger man to grunt in pain.

Jason growled, frustration evident. He swung again, this time with more force, but Lyander ducked, delivering a precise punch to Jason’s abdomen. The crowd watched in awe as Lyander’s superior technique and agility became apparent.

Realizing he couldn’t win in human form, Jason snarled, "Enough!" He stepped back, his body beginning to tremble. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and fur sprouted as he transformed into his wolf form—a massive, dark-furred beast with glowing eyes.

The crowd gasped, taking a step back. Jason’s wolf form was intimidating, towering over most. He was the strongest in the pack. He let out a deafening howl, challenging Lyander.

Lyander grinned, unphased. He closed his eyes briefly, and then his transformation began. Unlike Jason’s, Lyander’s shift was seamless, almost graceful. His form grew larger, more imposing, with sleek grey fur and a distinctive scar across his chest—a testament to battles fought and won.

Liora watched, her heart pounding. She remembered the original storyline of Lyander nearly defeating Rhett, the formidable leader of the Silver Moon Pack, if not for Talia’s interference. She knew, without a doubt, that Lyander was the strongest wolf alive.

Jason lunged, jaws open wide, aiming for Lyander’s throat. But Lyander sidestepped, using Jason’s momentum against him, sending the dark wolf crashing into the ground. Jason recovered quickly, circling Lyander, looking for an opening.

They clashed again, teeth snapping, claws slashing. But Lyander’s experience and strategy outmatched Jason’s brute force. With a powerful swipe, Lyander sent Jason sprawling, pinning him down with a paw on his chest. Jason growled, trying to break free, but Lyander’s grip was strong.

The crowd stood frozen, breath caught in their throats as the battle’s outcome hovered in the balance. Jason, battered and pinned beneath the weight of Lyander’s massive form, let out a soft, pitiful whimper—an unmistakable sign of submission.

But Lyander’s wolf wasn’t done.

His eyes gleamed like embers, glowing with primal fury. Thick saliva dripped from his bared fangs, which snapped just inches from Jason’s throat. A low, savage growl rumbled from deep within his chest, vibrating through the earth.

The onlookers gasped—some recoiling in horror, others too shocked to move. They all knew what came next. freēwēbnovel.com

Lyander’s wolf was not just a fighter. He was a force of vengeance and power, forged in blood and fury. Disrespect wasn’t tolerated. Defeat wasn’t enough. His instincts screamed for one thing—retribution.

The moment someone challenged him, it became a fight to the death.

His jaws opened wide, ready to end Jason once and for all.

Then, from the edge of the clearing, a voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"Lyander! That’s enough!"

Henry’s voice cut through the haze like a blade, firm with authority.