Notes

All his life, Xavier had been training for the moment he took his place as alpha, his right by birth. Well built, tall, admirable- he was fit to be leader, but nothing could prepare him for the day he lost his father. Ruthlessly murdered within his own borders by a group of rogues, the once resilient ruler had been taken all to soon. His father killed by mangy mutts? No- he was meant to die in a blaze of glory, like all leaders should, and the heavy weight of alpha had been dropped onto his eldest sons shoulders quite expectantly. All the blue eyed werewolf wanted to do was mourn, and ignore his new responsibilities, but once he was told that one of the rogue had been captured, the sudden anger that flooded him was unusual for a timid man as himself. The hunger for revenge gnawing away at him, he wasted no time in sprinting down to the empty, dark room the wolf was being held in.
Blood for blood- Blinded by grief, Xavier's mind was already cycling through the ways he might spill the prisoners, to take their life as his fathers had been ripped away. He would kill who ever it was in that room without a blink of his eye, exact his revenge, and perhaps finally be able to get on with his responsibilities as alpha.