Hawk Mountain Book Novels & Stories

It slipped off the shelf into her waiting hand, the pages already turning to the very entry her mind was seeking. Strangely, the bird was observing her just as intently, an intelligence in its gaze as it watched the pages of the book open without her hand. She brought the book in front of her and glanced down to look at the photograph of the harpy eagle. The eyes were round and shining with intelligence, but they were not black. The eyes in the picture were a bright amber with a black pupil. She let out her breath slowly. Something was wrong with her bird.

Luna explained while watching him season the dishes. “Want some?” “Can I?” She’s really hungry. Their scheduled meal time was delayed. As soon as the food were heated up, the men gathered to get some. Alex assisted her and they all ate in silence. They’re all starving. There wasn’t much talking afterwards. They quickly got into their sleeping bags to rest. The next two days passed without any incident. On the sixth day, they were intercepted by wolves from a small pack. Snow Mountain is close by. They might reach before midnight if they kept going.

Outside, far beyond the ridge, wolves began to howl. Not rogues. Black Hollow. The pack. Answering something I had not meant to call. The journal’s final words appeared in silver fire. ARC ONE: THE HEIR HAS COME HOME. And beneath the mountain, the Hollow King opened his eyes.

My wolves stand steady, eyes on me. I don’t lift my arms. I don’t make speeches. I bare my teeth. “He was never your prize and I have use for my head, unlike you,” I growl. The first wave breaks like surf. Redmaw pours down the slope, snow exploding under their boots. Arrows sing from our ridge. Hazel’s fletching finds throats, eyes, lungs. Mara rises like a wraith out of the snow, hamstrings one, guts another. The trenches drink their share, stakes punching through bellies, trip lines catching ankles and tearing ligaments. Screams lace the air.

Nyx stirred inside me, her presence a restless pulse beneath my skin, as if she could sense the approaching storm long before I could. I pulled on my jacket and slipped out of my small cabin, the cold morning air biting at my cheeks. The forest was eerily still, as though holding its breath. The tall pines stretched overhead, their needles shimmering faintly in the early light, casting long, wavering shadows across the mossy floor. The camp was quiet, save for a few early risers preparing for the day. Mara sat on a fallen log, sharpening her claws on a stone with slow, deliberate strokes. Her usually fierce gaze was softened by worry, her brow furrowed as she looked up when I approached.

And the hand-drawn pictures showed magnificent animals, sometimes poised on a rock in the moonlight, other times racing through woods. The first chapters of the book were devoted to the history of shifters and the explanation of the Slavic term for them, vlkodlak. Now why did that suddenly sound familiar to her? Of course! Her neighbor, Mike Volka. He'd said his ancestry was Slavic. Was that the reason for his interest in werewolves? She needed to get the book out again and get back into it. She replaced what she called her library clothes with sweats and a long-sleeved tee shirt, leaving off her bra, a treat she gave herself in the privacy of her own home. Then she fed Mischief, fixed herse

In between these urgent pleas in my head I heard the loud footsteps of wolves approaching me The ground was shaking showing their number and strength. What should I do!! Running was not option. "Everyone move towards the underground tunnel...now!!!!Marcus stay there and help everyone escape..!! All warriors head back towards the centre of our territory....unify all the forces....territory loss does not matter only prioritise your pack members lives!! Move!!" I mindlinked my entire pack listening to their shaky response in return "Don't fear!!! The underground tunnel beginning from the chamber in my room will lead you all to our 2nd territory located 20 km south of Ishim river...hurry.I want

Power will change, Revenge will change But the only thing that will not change will be . . . The Resurrection of the Thunder wolf. Next book titled : Thunder wolf ( book 2)

She noticed a wolf charging at them coming for Hunter's neck but she used her magic and threw that wolf across the road as he hit the bark and fell grunting. She noticed two dead bodies near Luca and three dead bodies near Lennox. Luca hasn't even shifted and they have killed so many. A wolf was able to claw at Luca's back making him grunt in pain. Hunter pulled to his feet. "Stay here and don't fight," He said looking deeply into her eyes. He faced the enemies as his claws extended out. Within seconds Hunter was clawing at them killing them skillfully but she noticed that Armando's best fighters weren't present there. What was he planning to do?

Mr Cayton did and Dagger said he took them into the forest. Dagger said he assumed the face of one of the werewolf hunters he killed and followed them into the woods. Dagger recounted how that day went. An experience Rafe did not want to remember. Dagger started, "I remember seeing you and a white wolf running through the woods, I watched her run towards us and so I grabbed her by the neck and snapped it. I snapped it twice but she was still alive. I marveled then dropped something into her before she started to bleed. We quickly left her and I watched as you came running. You had seen her on the floor and I remember you sobbing. You could not hold it as you ran with her to pack. You ran to