XII.

The cold Alaskan air bit into Victor's skin, but he welcomed it. The scent of fresh pine and crisp snow filled his lungs as he crouched low in the underbrush, his eyes scanning the forestry ahead. A light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the faintest whiff of gunpowder.

They're close.

Victor's senses were heightened, as always. He didn't need to see them to know the hunters were out there, tracking him and Laura as if they were simple game. From the way they moved, the way they handled their weapons, it was clear they thought they were tracking wolves or bears. Ordinary predators.

They had no idea what they were dealing with.

Beside him, Laura crouched, her posture low and ready. Her breathing was steady, her small form nearly invisible against the thick snow-covered foliage. Her eyes, cold and calculating, flicked toward him. She didn't need to ask what to do next.

Victor grinned, a feral glint in his eyes.

"Stay low, kid. Let 'em think they're the hunters."

Laura's claws extended with a quiet *snikt*, but she remained perfectly still, a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. Victor could hear the faint murmurs of the hunters approaching, the soft crunch of snow under their boots, and the quiet click of a rifle being prepared.

"They're big," one of the hunters whispered, his voice hushed. "Tracks are fresh. Two of 'em. Wolves, maybe?"

"Must be a pair. We'll tag 'em and bring 'em in," another replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "Big payday for wolves this size."

Victor chuckled quietly under his breath. Wolves. These men had no idea what they'd stumbled into. Their ignorance was almost funny.

The hunters came into view, three of them, all bundled up in heavy jackets and snow gear, rifles slung over their shoulders. They moved carefully, spreading out in a practiced formation, their eyes scanning the ground for tracks.

Victor waited, his muscles coiled, every instinct screaming at him to attack. But he held back, letting the thrill of the hunt build inside him. He could feel Laura's anticipation beside him, her heart beating steadily, her claws twitching ever so slightly.

The lead hunter crouched down, examining the tracks in the snow. "They're close. Get ready."

Victor moved like a shadow, slipping silently from his hiding spot. The wind shifted, carrying his scent directly toward the hunters just as he intended. The leader's head snapped up, eyes widening in alarm as he caught the unmistakable scent of something far more dangerous than a wolf.

"What the hell—?"

Victor was on him in an instant, leaping from the shadows and slamming into the hunter with enough force to send him sprawling into the snow. His claws sunk deep into the man's chest before he even had time to scream, blood spraying into the cold air.

The other two hunters froze, shock and terror flashing across their faces as they raised their rifles.

Too slow.

Laura lunged from the other side, a blur of speed and fury. She pounced on the second hunter, her claws slicing through his rifle like butter. His scream was cut short as her claws found his throat, blood spilling onto the white snow as she tore him apart with surgical precision.

The last hunter stood frozen, his rifle trembling in his hands as he stared at the carnage.

Victor turned toward him, his grin wide and feral, blood dripping from his claws. "You should've stayed home, kid."

The hunter fumbled with his rifle, trying to take aim, but it was too late. Victor moved faster than the man could comprehend, slashing through the barrel of the gun and grabbing him by the throat. The man gasped, his feet kicking uselessly as Victor lifted him off the ground with one hand.

"You came out here hunting wolves, huh?" Victor growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You found somethin' worse." Without a second thought, Victor tightened his grip, snapping the hunter's neck with a sickening crack.

The body went limp in his hand, and he tossed it aside like a ragdoll, wiping the blood from his claws.

Laura stood nearby, breathing heavily, her eyes still wild with the thrill of the kill. She wiped the blood from her face, flicking it onto the snow, and looked up at Victor.

"You're getting better at this," he said, his voice a low rumble of approval.

Laura just gave a small nod, her claws retracting as she wiped the last of the blood off her hands.

Victor glanced down at the bodies scattered in the snow. They were just some local hunters looking for game, but they'd made the fatal mistake of thinking they were the ones in control.

Nobody hunts the apex predator.

"Come on," he said, motioning for Laura to follow him as he walked deeper into the forest. "There's more prey out there. Better than these idiots."

Laura fell into step beside him, silent but alert, her instincts sharp and ready. Victor could feel their bond growing stronger with each hunt and kill. She was learning, adapting, becoming a true hunter just like him.

Weeks had passed since Victor and Laura, X-23, had torn their way out of the Weapon X facility. The Alaskan wilderness now served as their refuge, a harsh and unforgiving landscape, perfect for two apex predators.

They had settled in an abandoned hunting cabin, miles from the nearest town. Victor's enhanced senses picked up the faintest of sounds, making sure no one dared come near. Not that anyone could, after what they'd done at the facility. Word would spread quickly, and anyone foolish enough to track them down would end up like Stryker—scattered in pieces.

Victor sat on a log, sharpening his claws against a rock. The metallic scrape filled the air, his eyes occasionally flicking up to Laura. She sat across from him, crouched on her haunches like a wild animal, methodically inspecting a blade she'd ripped off a hunter's knife. It was crude, but she seemed fascinated by it.

"Getting the hang of it, huh, kid?" Victor's voice rumbled low, a hint of approval lacing his tone.

Laura looked up, her green eyes gleaming with the same feral intensity that Victor recognized in himself. She didn't answer, just gave a short nod before going back to the knife. They didn't need to talk much, and he liked that. She was sharp—already picking up on his habits, the way he moved, the way he hunted.

They'd been tracking game in the wild for weeks, but it was more than just survival. Victor was teaching her how to hunt people—how to track prey, read their movements, and use her instincts. She wasn't just some lab experiment anymore. She was becoming a hunter.

The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows on their scarred faces. Laura finished sharpening the blade and tossed it into the dirt beside her. She didn't need it—her claws were all she'd ever need. But it was good practice.

Victor watched her for a moment before standing up, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the campfire. He walked over to a tree and placed his hand against the bark, feeling the vibrations of the world around him. His senses told him they were alone, but that didn't stop the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

That damn file.

Victor reached into his jacket and pulled out the folded piece of paper with Birdy's name on it. He unfolded it slowly, his yellow eyes narrowing at the address. He had no idea why her name would show up now, after all this time. He had watched her die. Felt the loss.

Laura, ever aware, tilted her head and glanced up at the paper. She didn't ask, but her curiosity was obvious.

"Birdy," Victor said gruffly, stuffing the paper back into his pocket. "She was… someone important. Someone I trusted." His voice was low, gravelly, almost reflective—a rare vulnerability that only seemed to come out around the kid.

Laura blinked, processing the words, but didn't press further. She respected his silence, just as he did hers.

Victor turned away from the tree and grinned, baring his fangs as he stretched his arms, the muscles bulging under his jacket. He cracked his neck, his joints popping with a sickening satisfaction.

"You ready for the next hunt?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Laura responded with a smirk that was almost identical to his own, her small claws slipping out with a soft *snikt.*

Victor chuckled, amused by her eagerness. He liked that about her. No hesitation. No fear.

"Good," he said, lifting her effortlessly over his shoulder and launching her into the air like a ragdoll. Her laugh, if it could be called that, was more of a feral snarl as she flipped midair, landing perfectly on the ground below.

Victor leapt after her, landing in the snow beside her with a heavy thud. He looked out over the mountain, the vast, untouched wilderness spread out before them.

This was their world now. No chains, no masters. Just them, the hunt, and the blood.

And if Birdy was still alive? Well… he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

For now, the only thing that mattered was teaching Laura everything he knew—making sure she survived. Because she wasn't just a kid to him anymore.

She was pack.

•

Logan's grip on Selene's hair tightened for a moment before he suddenly released her, pushing her to the ground. She gritted her teeth, glaring up at him with pure venom in her eyes. But before she could rise again, his boot planted itself on her chest, keeping her pinned.

"Enough, Selene!" Logan barked, voice low but hard as iron. His eyes flashed with anger, but it wasn't wild or uncontrolled like hers. It was tempered, forged by years of knowing when to strike and when to hold back. "It's fine to be ruled by your emotions, I know all about that. But don't bring my family into it."

Selene's eyes flickered, the fury still present, but now shadowed by something else. Regret, maybe. She hated him for it, hated the way his words cut through the chaos in her mind. But she didn't fight. Not now. She knew better than to push Logan when he was in this mood.

"You promised me," Logan continued, his voice softening just a touch, though the frustration was still clear. "You promised you'd find Laura. And you did. But instead of helping her like you said, you put her right back into the Weapon X program. You know damn well that's not what I wanted."

Selene's lip curled, her defiance flaring back up. "If you want her to survive, she can't be weak, Logan! Weapon X is where she'll learn strength. You don't understand what it means to be weak." Her voice dripped with contempt, but it wasn't just for him—it was for herself. For the part of her that remembered being powerless.

Logan stepped back, finally letting her rise, and she did so slowly, her eyes dark and haunted. Without a word, she gestured toward the small glass case on the far side of the room. Inside, a delicate shrine stood—ornate and elegant, but unmistakably sorrowful. The remnants of her unborn child, a life snuffed out before it even began. It was an image that held a thousand unspoken regrets.

Selene's hands shook slightly as she flopped down onto the bed, rubbing her face with a weariness that seemed to come from the deepest part of her. "Strength is all that matters, Logan. I couldn't even protect my own..."

Logan's gaze followed hers to the shrine, his expression softening. He moved to sit beside her, the weight of the room heavy with old pain. Slowly, he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, a rare gesture of tenderness from a man built for violence. "I'm sorry, Selene," he said quietly. "I don't know if it was mine, but… it's a damn shame either way."

Selene felt her throat tighten, the grief she had buried for so long bubbling dangerously close to the surface. She curled up against Logan, her walls beginning to crumble, though she fought against it with every breath. She refused to let the tears fall, but the strain of holding them back only made it worse.

Logan held her silently for a long moment, knowing she needed the quiet. Then, in his gravelly voice, he spoke again. "We need to talk about Victor."

Her body stiffened at the name, and she pulled back slightly, though not enough to break the closeness. "What about him?"

"He's done enough damage," Logan said, his voice low, a growl rumbling beneath the words. "The lives he's ruined… your life, my life. And I can't let him drag Laura down with him."

Selene said nothing, but her eyes told him she understood. Victor Creed, Sabretooth, was a curse they both bore. He had a talent for destruction, for taking everything and leaving nothing but blood in his wake.

"I'll kill him if I have to, Selene," Logan said, his words blunt, but heavy with meaning. "Both of you, if I have to. I won't let Laura go down that road. But I'd prefer it didn't come to that."

For a long while, Selene didn't respond. She stared at the floor, her mind wrestling with the tangled web of her loyalties and pain. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer now. "If I hear anything, I'll tell you. I don't want her to become like him either."

Logan nodded, the tension between them easing slightly. He shifted, trying to reach for her again, this time more tender, as though intimacy might be a balm for the wounds between them. But the moment he did, Selene pulled away, the distance between them suddenly insurmountable.

Logan stopped, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before letting it fall back to his side. "Your heart's still with him, isn't it? Victor."

Selene didn't answer, but she didn't have to. The silence spoke louder than words. Instead, she moved closer, her lips pressing against Logan's neck, her fangs sinking gently into his flesh. The taste of his blood flooded her senses, warm and familiar, and for a brief moment, the pain ebbed.

Logan let out a quiet breath, his hand resting on the back of her head as she drank. "Will you ever move on, Selene?" His voice was heavy with sadness, a question he knew the answer to but asked anyway.

She pulled back after a moment, wiping her lips. Her eyes, though glowing from the feeding, were distant. "You're too good of a man to worry about me," she said, her voice a whisper. "You should save yourself, Logan."

Logan's hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment before he withdrew, his expression unreadable. "Maybe I can't save myself, either."

The room fell silent again, but this time it wasn't the awkward, strained quiet of before. It was an understanding, a shared weight between them, though neither had the words to lift it. Logan stood after a while, giving her one last look before heading to the door. "I'll deal with Laura. But if you hear anything about Victor, let me know. You owe me that much."

Selene watched him leave, the familiar ache returning to her chest. She sat back down on the bed, staring blankly at the shrine in the corner, feeling more alone than ever.

•

Victor's muscles rippled as he pushed his body off the floor of the rough-hewn wooden cabin, the floor creaking beneath the weight of his massive frame. The years had passed by in a blur, but here, in the wilderness, time didn't matter. It was just him, Laura, and the hunt.

A faint rustling behind him broke his concentration, and before he could speak, Laura's small voice cut through the still air.

"Are we ever going to leave?"

Victor paused mid-push-up, turning his head to see her standing in the doorway. She looked different now, older—still a kid, but growing. Her dark hair fell in messy strands around her face, and there was a curiosity in her green eyes that hadn't been there before.

Victor sat up slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow and breathing heavily. He'd been putting in extra hours training, not because he needed it, but because it kept his instincts sharp. 

Especially with Laura getting older. She was becoming a real hunter, and part of him knew the wild wouldn't be enough for her forever.

"You restless, kid?" Victor asked, his gravelly voice filling the cabin as he leaned back against the wall, stretching his arms. "You don't like it out here anymore?"

Laura shrugged, walking further into the room. She was carrying a small rabbit she had caught earlier, its limp form dangling from her hand. She set it down on the counter near the fireplace where they'd been cooking their meals for the past year.

"I like it here," she said, her voice quiet, thoughtful. "But I was just wondering… if there's anything else out there. We haven't seen any people in a long time."

Victor snorted. "People ain't worth seein', Laura. The world out there's full of cowards and sheep. The wild, this life we've been living... this is real. This is how we're supposed to live. No one tellin' us what to do, no one huntin' us down. No one to care about."

Laura nodded, but she didn't look fully convinced. Victor could see it in her eyes—the growing restlessness, the curiosity. She was getting older, stronger, and more independent. She could hunt, kill, and survive on her own, but there was something more she wanted.

Victor wasn't sure he could give her that.

He stood up, walking over to her and resting a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, kid. I know you're startin' to wonder about things, about what's out there. But trust me, we've got it good here. Ain't nobody comin' for us, and we're not tied down to anything. You're free. You hear me? You're free."

Laura tilted her head slightly, looking up at him. "Is that why we left? So we could be free?"

Victor's jaw tightened. He knew where this was going, and part of him didn't want to answer. Not because he didn't care, but because he didn't want her to think about what came before—the torture, the endless experiments, the chains, and the rage. He didn't want her to see the blood-soaked past they had both endured. He wanted her to see him as more than a killer. He'd never cared about anyone's opinion on him before, yet if Laura were to look at him as everyone else did, a monster in human skin. He wasn't sure he'd be able to take it. 

"Yeah," Victor finally said, his voice low. "That's why we left."

Laura was silent for a moment, then asked, "What about before?"

Victor sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "Before don't matter. It's the past. We ain't goin' back to that."

"But what if it finds us?" Laura pressed, her voice growing more insistent.

Victor's eyes narrowed, his instincts kicking in. He could tell when something was brewing, when danger was on the horizon. He hadn't felt it for a long time, but now there was something in the air—a tension, a shift. He didn't like it.

"We're gonna handle it," he said, his voice firm. "Ain't nothin' out there that can take us down. We're too strong for that."

Laura didn't respond right away. Instead, she turned back to the rabbit, picking it up and starting to skin it, her small hands working with practiced ease. Victor watched her for a moment, proud of how far she'd come. She was turning into a damn fine hunter. Smart, quick, and deadly. She'd learned everything he had to teach her, and then some.

But there was one thing he couldn't teach her—how to deal with the outside world.

That was a battle they'd both have to face eventually.

Victor turned away, grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door. "I'm headin' out to check the traps. You stay here and finish up with that rabbit. We'll have it for dinner."

Laura nodded, still focused on her task.

Victor stepped outside, breathing in the crisp air. The forest stretched out before him, endless and wild. But something was off. His senses tingled, and he sniffed the air, trying to pick up any unusual scents. 

And then he caught it.

A familiar, musky odor mixed with cigar smoke.

Logan.

Victor's eyes flashed red, his hands curling into fists. It had been years since their paths had crossed, but he knew this day would come eventually. Logan was relentless, and Victor had a feeling this wasn't just a chance encounter. He was here for a reason.

He stormed back inside, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. Laura looked up, sensing his sudden change in demeanor.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice sharp with concern.

Victor growled. "We got company, kid. A nasty one."

Laura's brow furrowed, and she stood up, instinctively extending her claws. "Who?"

Victor's lips curled into a snarl. "Logan. The runt's finally come lookin' for me… and probably you too."

Laura's eyes widened slightly, but there wasn't fear in them—only a calm, cold readiness. She wasn't the scared little girl from before. She was a predator now, like him.

"What do we do?" she asked, her voice steady.

Victor grinned, though there was no humor in it. "We teach him why we're the top of the food chain."

The crack of a branch echoed through the trees, and Victor's muscles tensed. He crouched low behind a boulder, motioning for Laura to stay close. They were in their element now, the dense woods offering plenty of places to ambush from.

Victor could hear Logan's heartbeat—steady, determined. The man was relentless, always had been. But this time, he wasn't just after Victor. He was here for Laura, too. Victor had no doubt about that.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and then Logan appeared, stepping into the clearing. His hair was wild, his sideburns scraggly, and that ever-present cigar clenched between his teeth. His claws were extended, gleaming in the fading light.

Victor stepped out from behind the boulder, cracking his neck. "'Bout time you showed up, Runt."

Logan's eyes narrowed, and he spat out the cigar. "You knew this was comin', Creed. You've been hidin' out here for too long. Time to end it."

Laura stepped out beside Victor, her claws at the ready. Logan's gaze flicked toward her, a mixture of surprise and something else—recognition.

"Laura," Logan said softly. "You don't have to be with him. You don't have to be like him."

Victor growled, stepping in front of Laura. "She's with me. She's my pack. You ain't takin' her, Logan."

But Laura stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Logan's. "He's my family," she said firmly. "You're not."

Logan's jaw tightened, his claws retracting slightly. "I ain't tryin' to take you away, kid. I just… I just want to make sure you're safe."

"I'm safe here," Laura shot back. "With him."

Victor couldn't help but grin. She'd chosen him. Despite everything, she saw him as her father, her leader. Logan was nothing more than a stranger to her.

But Logan wasn't going to back down that easily.

"This ends here, Creed," Logan snarled, his claws extending once more.

Victor's eyes flashed with fury as he readied himself for the fight. "Damn right it does. "

•

Selene's bare feet echoed softly through the wide halls of her mansion, the ancient walls surrounding her a cold comfort as she paced restlessly. The oppressive weight of fear and grief had settled on her chest, tightening with each breath. She had set things in motion that she could no longer control. And now, the consequences were circling her like predators.

Victor and Logan—the two names churned in her mind. She didn't want Logan to kill him, as much as he deserved it. But the thought of Victor killing Logan twisted her insides just as violently. She hated herself for still caring, for letting him invade her thoughts after everything he had done. But then, there was always that doubt—what if he came for her? What if he didn't? Could she live with either outcome?

"Stop it," she muttered to herself, clenching her fists as if she could crush the thoughts away.

Desperate to steady herself, she retreated to one of the few rituals that brought her any semblance of calm. A hot bath, but not in water—her servants had prepared a pool of fresh, warm blood, thick and crimson, just the way she liked it. It promised a balm to her nerves, even if only temporary. As she approached the massive marble bath, she grabbed a goblet from a nearby tray, filled to the brim with the same thick liquid. She sipped it slowly, the warmth of the blood sliding down her throat, bringing her back to herself.

She stepped into the bath, letting the heat of the blood wrap around her, easing the tension in her muscles. Her head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, trying to drown out the chaos in her mind. For a few precious moments, there was silence.

But it didn't last.

A soft knock at the door barely registered before it creaked open, and Selene heard the timid shuffle of feet approaching. She didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was.

"Selene?" Birdy's voice was quiet, hesitant. "I… I'm sorry to bother you, but—can I… join?"

Selene's eyes flickered open, cold and distant, locking onto Birdy's form in the doorway. The room was thick with tension, the weight of their history palpable. For a long moment, she said nothing, merely watching Birdy squirm under her gaze.

Then, after a sigh, she nodded. "Fine."

Birdy seemed to relax slightly, carefully slipping out of her clothes and lowering herself into the blood beside Selene. The silence between them stretched, heavy and awkward, until Birdy finally spoke again.

"I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry." Her voice wavered, the vulnerability surprising. "For everything. For starting all of this. I should never have fallen for him. And—" Birdy's voice broke, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "I should have saved your child. That's on me. I know why you tried to kill me. I would've done the same."

Selene stared at her, the memory of that moment sharp in her mind. The betrayal, the fury, and the overwhelming pain of her loss. She had nearly ripped Birdy apart for it. Yet here she was, remade and sitting in the same blood-soaked bath as her. Birdy had been brought back better, stronger, but that didn't erase what had happened.

"I'm grateful," Birdy whispered, her eyes glistening. "You brought me back. Better than ever. But… Selene, I never had a family. Victor, you—" She hesitated, tears spilling over as her voice cracked. "You two were all I had. And now… it's like I'm caught in the middle of a divorce."

The raw vulnerability in Birdy's voice, the crack in her usually steely exterior, caught Selene off guard. Her lips twitched into a small, almost bitter smile, one she didn't expect to form. Birdy's analogy was painfully accurate.

"You think this is a divorce?" Selene muttered, shaking her head slightly. "We were never a family."

But as Birdy tentatively inched closer, curling up against her side, Selene didn't push her away. Instead, she allowed the comfort of another's presence—something she hadn't realized she needed—to seep in. For a moment, the silence returned, not as suffocating as before.

"I never wanted this, you know," Selene finally said, her voice quiet, almost vulnerable. "Any of it. I didn't want Victor dead, but I didn't want Logan dead either. And now… I don't know what I want."

Birdy looked up at her, eyes wide and understanding. "He did things… terrible things," she said softly. "But he was still—"

"Victor," Selene finished, her voice hollow. "No matter what he's done… he's left a mark on me." She closed her eyes again, the memories flooding back—the violence, the passion, the twisted bond they shared. "I should hate him. And I do, sometimes. But there's always that piece of him, buried deep, that I can't shake."

Birdy stayed silent, just listening. Her presence was strangely soothing, and for once, Selene didn't feel the need to mask her vulnerability.

"I'm scared," Selene admitted, the words tasting foreign on her tongue. "I'm scared he'll find me. But I'm even more terrified that he won't."

Birdy nodded slowly, resting her head against Selene's shoulder. "I understand," she whispered. "I really do."

The two sat there for a long time, the warmth of the blood and the soft rhythm of their breathing the only sounds in the room. For the first time in what felt like ages, Selene allowed herself a moment of fragile peace, even as the shadow of Victor Creed loomed large in both their minds.

•

A low growl rumbled from deep in Victor's throat as his eyes locked onto Logan's. Their shared history hung between them like a curse. Years of battles, grudges, and blood—so much blood. 

Today would be no different. This would be the end of it, one way or another.

Logan stood his ground, claws extended and ready, the scent of cigar smoke still lingering in the air. His eyes flicked toward Laura, then back to Victor. It was clear he didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't going to leave without a fight.

Victor snarled, a feral grin spreading across his face. "You sure you want to do this, Logan? You think you can take me down?"

Logan didn't respond with words. He never did. Instead, he lunged forward, claws gleaming as they slashed through the air with deadly precision. Victor met him head-on, his own claws slicing downward to meet Logan's strike with a brutal force.

The sound of metal against bone echoed through the clearing, and blood sprayed in thick droplets as their claws found flesh. Logan's claws tore across Victor's chest, leaving deep, ragged gashes, but Victor didn't flinch. Pain was nothing to him. In fact, he welcomed it.

With a savage roar, Victor slashed upward, his claws ripping through Logan's side, slicing through muscle and bone like butter. Logan grunted in pain, blood pouring from the wound, but he didn't back down. His healing factor kicked in almost immediately, knitting the torn flesh together as he continued his relentless assault.

They were animals now, pure instinct and rage guiding their every move. Claws tore into flesh, bones cracked under the force of their blows, and the ground beneath them was soaked in blood. Victor's larger frame gave him the advantage in strength, but Logan was faster, his smaller size allowing him to dart in and out of Victor's reach with precision strikes.

Laura watched from the sidelines, her claws still extended, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fury. She knew she wasn't supposed to get involved, but watching them tear into each other, seeing Victor bleed—it was too much for her.

Victor swung wildly at Logan, his claws raking across Logan's face, shredding skin and muscle as Logan roared in pain, his face a mess of blood and exposed bone, but all it did was anger him more. He lashed out with both hands, his claws sinking deep into Victor's abdomen and twisting viciously.

Victor grunted, doubling over slightly as blood spilled from the wound, but before Logan could capitalize on the opening, Victor's massive hand shot out, grabbing Logan by the throat and lifting him off the ground.

"You think you can kill me?" Victor snarled, his voice a guttural growl. "You ain't got what it takes, Logan!"

Victor threw Logan with all his strength, sending him crashing into a nearby tree. The wood splintered under the impact, and Logan slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned.

That's when Laura moved.

With a fierce cry, she charged at Logan, her small frame a blur as she leaped at him, claws extended, ready to tear him apart.

"Laura! No!" Victor shouted, but it was too late.

Logan recovered faster than either of them expected. As Laura lunged, Logan's arm shot out with blinding speed, his open palm connecting with her face in a brutal slap that sent her flying backward. Her small body slammed into a boulder with a sickening thud, and she crumpled to the ground, dazed and bleeding.

Victor's world went red.

A savage, primal roar tore from his throat as he charged at Logan with the full force of his fury. His claws ripped through the air, faster and more brutal than before, fueled by the sight of Laura lying hurt.

"You hit her!" Victor bellowed, his voice a thunderous roar. "You're dead, Logan! Dead!" He screamed.

Logan barely had time to react before Victor was on him. The sheer force of Victor's assault drove Logan to the ground, claws digging deep into his shoulders, pinning him in place. Victor's face twisted with rage as he slammed Logan's head into the dirt repeatedly, each impact sending shockwaves through the ground.

Blood sprayed from Logan's mouth and nose, his face a mangled mess of torn flesh and broken bone. He struggled to push Victor off, but the larger man was relentless, his fury giving him an almost unstoppable strength.

Victor didn't stop. His claws slashed wildly, carving deep gouges into Logan's chest and arms. Blood gushed from the wounds, painting the forest floor red as Logan's healing factor fought to keep him alive.

"YOU TOUCH HER AGAIN, I'LL RIP YOU APART!" Victor snarled, his voice making all nearby animals scurry off.

Logan's claws found their target as he grunted in pain, slashing across Victor's side, but it was a desperate, weak strike. Victor barely felt it. His rage consumed him, his focus entirely on breaking Logan piece by piece.

Victor grabbed Logan by the throat again, lifting him into the air with one hand. He sneered, his lips curling back to reveal bloodied teeth. "You're not walkin' away from this one."

But Logan's eyes, though bloodied and swollen, remained defiant. With a grunt of effort, he drove his claws deep into Victor's side, twisting and pulling until he felt bone crack beneath his grip.

Victor howled in pain, but it didn't stop him. He slammed Logan back down into the dirt, his massive fist coming down hard on Logan's head, again and again. The ground shook with each impact, and soon, Logan's face was nothing more than a bloody pulp, barely recognizable. His adamantium skeleton cracked and gave way under Victor's brutal attack.

But still, he fought. His claws lashed out blindly, cutting deep into Victor's arms, neck, and chest. The forest was filled with the sound of ripping flesh and breaking bones, the two of them locked in a brutal, unrelenting struggle.

Laura stirred, slowly pushing herself up from where she had landed. Blood trickled down her forehead, and her body ached, but she forced herself to stand. Her vision blurred as she watched the two men tear into each other like animals, the sheer violence of it overwhelming.

She couldn't let this happen. Not like this.

With a shaky breath, Laura forced herself to move. She ran toward them, her claws still extended, but this time, she wasn't aiming for Logan.

"Stop!" she screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Victor's fist froze in mid-air, his bloodied hand hovering over Logan's battered face. He turned to look at Laura, his eyes wild and feral, but her voice—her presence—cut through the haze of rage.

"Please… stop," Laura begged, her voice soft but firm, her eyes full of emotion as she looked at Victor. "We don't need this."

Victor's chest heaved with exertion, blood dripping from countless wounds, but Laura's words pierced the madness. Slowly, his grip on Logan's throat loosened, and he let the unconscious man drop to the ground.

Logan lay there, beaten, broken, but alive.

Victor stood over him, panting heavily, his rage slowly ebbing away. His gaze shifted to Laura, who was watching him with a mix of fear and concern. He took a step toward her, his bloodied hand reaching out.

"You're my kid," Victor said softly, his voice hoarse. "Ain't nobody ever gonna take you from me."

Laura hesitated for a moment, then nodded, stepping into his embrace. "I know," she whispered. "I know."

Victor smiled a bit before looking down at Logan. For some reason, he hadn't killed him, if this was a year ago he'd have torn the wolverine's head right off his shoulders. He'd gone soft, The Sabertooth had stopped because his kid begged him too. 

"Hah… Alright, I'm ready," He said softly, his wounds healed now as he looked up toward the sky. It was about time he went to that address. If not to see if Birdy was really alive, then to kill the one who dared use her name like that.

"Pack up kid, we have a long walk ahead of us," He finished, ruffling Laura's hair as he thought on his dead child, his dead children. There was a chance Selene's baby had been Logan's, but so was this kid. 

"Yeah…" He said, sighing as he dragged Logan into the cabin, laying him by the fire and putting enough wood to keep it lit. "It's time."