Heroes Hunters Novels & Stories

When facing a battle, the most important thing for a Wolf is to believe in his leader. After a while came what the Nolan group feared, their enemy. The opponent has three people, a wolf with yellow fur and a wolf with red fur walking ahead. The wolf with black fur walked behind the other two, his blue eyes making the viewer feel fear. This group of assassins was very different from the usual ones who used to hide and sneak attacks on the Ezra people. But these guys came to be strangely arrogant and cavalier. Had it not been for the declaration of war befra's group would have thought they had come to make friends.

The word slammed into my chest like a punch. Hunters. Not warriors. Not messengers. Hunters. Trained by the Council to do one thing, track and kill anything that threatens their order. Kael’s entire body shifted with tension. “How many?” Dax swallowed. “Three. Maybe four. But if they’ve come this far, they aren’t alone.” I stepped forward. “Let me fight.” Kael turned to me sharply. “No.” “Why not? I’m the one they’re here for.”

“Then who?” Before anyone could answer… An arrow flew from the darkness. It struck the ground beside the fire. Torren roared. “Ambush!” Figures burst from the forest. Not shadow creatures. Humans. But they wore dark armor marked with a crimson symbol. Cassian’s expression hardened. “Mercenaries.” The attackers charged. Steel clashed instantly. Torren smashed one attacker aside with a single swing of his axe. Kael’s sword flashed through the firelight as he blocked another strike.

But I kept going. And then came the night that changed everything. It started with a scent. Dara stiffened first. The air smelled wrong—tainted with sweat, steel, and something else. “Move,” she whispered. We scattered just as the first arrow sliced through the air. It stuck itself in the tree behind where I'd been standing a second earlier. My heartbeat increased. Rogue hunters. They were mercenaries, hired by packs to track and eliminate exiled wolves. They fought with silver and fire, and they didn’t take prisoners.

Everyone was dead, but me. Turning back, I finally put a face to the voice. Her skin was covered in freckles and her hair was a wild brown, like she had stuck her finger in a socket. She was carrying a gun in her hands, but what stood out to me was her outfit. I’d seen it once before, in school. It was the Hunter’s uniform. The patch on her arm confirming it. Hunter’s were mercenaries for hire. Killers for hire, really. The non-magical in the supernatural world. They once were on a death march against all supernaturals, but now they were just raised on how to kill them and were sold to the highest bidder.

"An assassin." "There are more," Vida's voice rang out. "Three at least. They're glamoured to look like Pack members." As if summoned by her words, three figures dropped their disguises. Where ordinary wolves had stood, now there were Hunters—dressed in black, armed with silver weapons. "Protect the Luna!" Marcus roared. Warriors shifted into wolf form. The Hunters attacked. And I stood at the center of it all, covered in my first victim's blood, knowing with absolute certainty that someone inside the Pack had let them in.

"Brandur is one. You remember he is called The Destroyer?" She fought back the gratifying smile that tugged at her lips with his growing unease. Maybe she could scare him enough into abandoning his plan and tell her where baby Brand was before the wolves caught up to them. "And they are not just regular wolves," she continued. "They are the size of the legendary Dire wolves. Brand's wolf comes almost up to my shoulder on his flat feet. His teeth are as fearsome as the Háhyrnir (killer whale) that roamed our sea."

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.

Even with silver, once it was out of the body, healing took very little time but it had already been a week and the scar bothered me as much as the strange girl standing in the clearing. “How’d he even get a shot off at you?” Derrick asked as he grabbed the report I’d been reading. He’d read it before. We’d all read it. Rogues were testing the borders of small packs and a few had even tested our borders. They were growing more daring with each attack and there were rumors that a rogue king was leading them. And that’s why I agreed to continue the pact with the hunter society. We needed the hunters investigating the rogues so we could reinforce our borders and find out where this supposed rog

They turned men and women insane with violent exposure and ingrained belief their gods wanted this, and soon the entire race began to plunder any who stood in their way, be they immortal or not. The Hunters were a different breed altogether and could kill without emotion. Unaffected by what they did, unlike their kin and calculated in doing so. They were machines built for a purpose and did not seem to be affected by carrying out that destiny. Even while Aztecs fell to invading armies, the Hunters were indestructible and ploughed on still with their preprogramed purpose.