Art Book Hunter X Hunter Novels & Stories

Khyrix immediately stepped between me and the text, "Let me go through it." He laid the book on the table. As he carefully opened the heavy cover to the table of contents, I leaned over his shoulder, holding my breath. There was a strange substance growing all over the pages. Whatever it was, it grew like a network of veins, wrapping tightly around the edges of each sheet. Khyrix’s eyes scanned down the table of contents, instantly opening to page four hundred and thirteen. The page revealed a highly detailed, hand-drawn illustration. It was an exact replica of the massive tree that stood at the heart of our academy grounds.

The door closed. Angry? Did I do anything wrong? Suddenly, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down. There was a dagger in my hand. Symbols began carving on the silver blade. And somehow, somewhere, I knew what they meant. “Marfóir Deamhan,” I whispered. The meaning came to me like a memory that was never mine. My voice cracked, as I translated the words. “Demon Slayer.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. “If you'll excuse me, I'd like to take my boyfriend along with me.” She huffed and snorted but quickly masked it with a neutral expression. “Of course.” I dragged Clinton out of there and towards another carved art section. I ignored him as I touched every beautiful carved art I passed. One was of a man with a bow slung over his shoulder, dressed like a hunter. Another was a boat with two fishermen, and suddenly I stopped before a carved female wolf transforming. I had to pause as I traced a hand on it, looking at it in amusement. I didn't know humans knew about us, as I always thought they believed we were only real in movies and books.

Ronan asked. The man flinched, just slightly, but it was enough. I saw it in his eyes—the moment he knew we’d caught on. I bent down, grabbing his hand and turning it to the side, exposing the faint mark etched into his skin. My growl rumbled in my throat. "He's a hunter." "Fuck," he hissed, the rope snapping as his claws swiped through the air where I’d just been. He bolted, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Ramsy boasted. Delta Ramsy mustered little heed to Higgins' pitiful state as the spat to the soon to-be corpse in his wake. Hunters were members of the resistance, who were mostly humans that had their only goal to be liberating their people and domineering the greater mass of carnivorous beast that desired to usurp any attempts they made to establish a system like theirs or breed enough to try. Higgins' life was dangling on a thin thread, his hands laid across the two ends of the baracade by chains anchored to his wrists and a weakened resolve from that death that just insisted on taking its time before truly drawing the life out of him.

A creature most certainly crafted by the gods themselves. The hunter's figure was lithe, with more than a little lean muscle on her frame, evidence that she was indeed a well-seasoned warrior. Those tempting breasts that seemed to occupy my every waking thought looked even more generous without the barrier of fabric hiding them. My hands physically ached to cup them, to feel their weight once more in my grasp, but I somehow managed to hold back. A draft of cool air blew in through the bathroom window, and before my captivated eyes, dusky pink nipples hardened to stiff peaks.

“Alright.” The guy reached out and wiped the lipstick on her face with his thumb. “See?” The guy withdrew his hand and showed the lipstick to her. Ana smiled at him, “Thanks. I'm Ana.” “Do you need an introduction?” The guy asked rhetorically, “I'm Hunter.” Dying in jealousy, Arthur watched them from the entrance, he adjusted his glasses and then heaved a deep sigh.

Every scar, every wound—it only makes her shine brighter. “What is it, Arthur?” I ask, pushing open the door. My heart is racing. “Have you found something?” Arthur looks up from the old leather-bound book spread across the desk. His eyes are wide, a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty swimming in them. “Yes. A legend. A rare wolf... the Blood of All.” I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Alyssa steps forward, folding her arms. “Yeah, what does that mean exactly?”

Hunter was roaring viciously and they had shifted back to their human forms. Happiness twinkled in her eyes upon seeing Hunter punching Armando ruthlessly as blood splurts out of his mouth.

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Beware of typos and wrong grammar! PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME! His Luna Series 1: His Hunter Luna Status: On-Going Language: English Genre: Werewolf/Romance Written by: pinkfantaxxy Started: 08/22/24