"I'm not hunting alone right now."
The string of Gunnar's crossbow twanged as the third bolt launched. Xavier watched with a smug satisfaction that quickly shifted into horror as the projectile sailed past the Vorthak's ear, disappearing into the snowy underbrush beyond.
"Fuck me," Xavier muttered.
The beast's jaws opened, saliva dripping between those needle-sharp teeth. Death was coming, and it wore a coat of crystalline fur.
Xavier's hand scrabbled in the snow beside him, fingers numbing against the cold. They brushed against something solid—a rock, half-buried in the frozen ground. He wrapped his fingers around it, the jagged edges biting into his palm.
As the Vorthak lowered its head for the killing bite, Xavier summoned every ounce of strength left in his battered body. Pink energy crackled along his arm as his Essentia responded to his desperation. He swung the rock upward, connecting with the beast's jaw.