Scout X Reader Novels & Stories

Jace whirled, dragging me with him as another scout lunged from the shadows, blade raised. The scout’s blade came down in a silver arc. Jace caught it mid-strike, claws sparking against the runes etched into the steel. His growl rattled through the trees as he twisted, snapping the man’s wrist and hurling him into the ground. Tyler buried his knife in another scout’s throat, dragging it across with brutal precision. Black ichor hissed on the blade as the body crumbled to dust. I barely had time to breathe before the last scout lunged at me, faster than the others. His blade nicked my arm, the sting searing. Pain snapped my control. The runes under my skin flared like wildfire. Silver flames

"We've been waiting to meet you." "Who are you?" Xavier growled, silver power crackling around him. "We are the scouts. The forerunners. The ones who slip through the cracks between worlds to prepare the way. Your grandmother was right about one thing, a war is coming. But she was wrong about when. The barriers between dimensions are thinner than your prophecies predicted. Much thinner. Especially here, where reality was recently... rewritten." The thing wearing Sophie's face smiled, and it was the most wrong thing I'd ever seen.

The scent of damp earth and aggressive boy-musk rolled off him, thick and suffocating. Harrison stepped into my personal space, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallowed me whole. He smelled like cedarwood and a coming storm—the signature scent of the Cole lineage. “I’m the Lead Scout for this match. My word is Law of the Pack. You struck out, Cruz. Move your scrawny tail off the field.” “You’re cheating!” I barked, the vibration catching in my throat. I wasn’t shifted—none of us were at eleven—but the heat in my chest felt like liquid silver. “Just because your father runs the Northern Reach doesn’t mean you own the dirt we’re standing on.”

In my head, the two names swirled like a tempest, and I sensed the beginnings of a rage that pleaded to be let loose. "Useless fools," I growled, slamming the paper down on the desk. The scout in front of me was scared by the sound, his shoulders shaking and his head bent. "Your only duty was to watch for Lucas. And yet here I am, reading about his treachery on paper. Explain yourself." The scout's words were a tangled mix of justifications as he stammered. "We didn't expect him to..."

I asked. The Alpha sighed. He looked at Scarlett, who faced him in return. She was ready for him to get her scent and see if it matches the one on the dead guard. They should know I have a big surprise for them. He inhaled her scent and stood there for a while without moving. "Is something wrong?" I asked. Xavier didn't answer. He proceeded to the corpse and inhaled the scent. He paused for a while with his back turned and his fists bawled.

Instinctively, Kyra ducked under the onslaught and struck back quickly, taking out her attacker. The scout, a young man with a desperation-filled gaze, attempted to get away, but Lyla and Damon stopped him fast. Kyra stepped forward, her expression unwavering and icy. "Who sent you?" she questioned in a threatening, low voice. The scout made an effort to fight his captors, but it was obvious that he was inferior. He spit out, "Xander will destroy you all," his voice full of defiance. "You can't stop him." Kyra squinted her eyes. "We will investigate that. Tell me, what plans does he have?"

His voice stayed steady. "Observe. Respond. Endure. Awareness is claim. Presence is tether. Submission is layered. You are theirs entirely, even as outsiders watch." The door opened. Two scouts from a rival pack stepped inside, movements careful and assessing. Their eyes immediately locked onto me, lingering with open hunger and calculation. One of them, a tall, scarred male with cold gray eyes, let his gaze travel slowly down my body. He traced the glistening trails of slick on my thighs, the way my cock throbbed visibly against my stomach, the helpless flutter of my hole as fresh slick leaked out under their scrutiny. The second scout, leaner and sharper-featured, tilted his head. A faint

At the sound, Scout perked up, letting out a low bark, his small frame tensing as if ready to bolt back to his owner. A blinding flash flooded the room, and I winced, shrinking against the wall as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. When I dared to look, I felt my breath catch at the sight of him. He was shirtless, his broad chest lined with a map of scars and dark, twisting tattoos, his jeans riding low on his hips. Shadows played in the hollows of his muscles, his skin taut and tan in the harsh light. His hair was disheveled, falling into his face as though he’d either just left his bed or spent a night dragging his fingers through it. And damn it all—he was stunning.

After that, a different kind of satisfaction came across me. I enjoyed hunting these human hunters, thus, killing 10 werewolves and being the youngest and best werewolf hunter. Rendall killed 8 werewolves which are also not that bad, Quinn is setting poisonous traps and putting some on the bows granting her 4 kills. We make a great team. “Let’s go, Raffi.” I turned and saw Rendall brushing his mid-length hair using his fingers. “Are you going on a date?” I asked him as I scanned his clothes.

​The Conservatory Passage. Tuesday. 1:26 AM. ​The stone steps rising from the drainage culverts were narrow, slick with decades of subterranean condensation, and steep enough to force a rhythmic, brutal strain on the thighs. Xavier climbed them with a terrifying, mechanical efficiency, his tactical rifle held high, his boots biting into the slick stone with a heavy, purposeful cadence. Behind him, Scarlett kept pace, her breath coming in short, sharp hitches that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion and everything to do with the clock ticking down inside her skull.