Hunter Burn Novels & Stories

Camilla Gomez sacrificed everything for Darian Baldore. When he was accused of murder—a crime that could have shattered his billion-dollar empire—she took the blame, trusting his promises that he would clear her name and bring her back to him once it was safe. Instead, she was abandoned. Branded a killer. Sent to prison to rot while the man she loved moved on as if she had never existed. Worse, she was carrying his child, forced to bring new life into the world while trapped in a nightmare. Seven years later, she returns—not as a broken woman, but as a force to be reckoned with. She’s rebuilt herself and forged her own empire, and she has only one goal: to make them pay for their betrayal.

Heat hit us from behind, the wave intense it felt like my skin might burn off. The air smelled of burning chemicals, smoke, and something metallic. My wolf, weak as she was, stirred faintly inside me, confused. I forced my eyes open despite the sting, trying to see him. A mask covered most of his face and all I could see were his eyes, which were bright and then an unusual scar on his chin.

"My plan to hunt her life failed completely, and my own beast paid the total price, yet my tongue cannot even roar the truth to the pack council without exposing my own hired arsonists!" "My hunters will track every single scent in that valley, Charis!" Luke Turner roars, his calm face completely breaking as his fists smash against the stone wall. "The fire warriors discovered that a rogue wolf ignited the wood on purpose, and the exact watch my paws find the mastermind, my claws will make their soul regret the day they were born into the wilderness!" "Dad, what is the true point of a bloody hunt now?" Charis gasps quickly, her chest heaving with deep panic as she stares at her father's angr

Then I reached into my bag, my fingers touching the glass bottle of vitamins Silas made me take every day. I just needed to get back to my room. Four more months. I only had to survive four more months. But as I stared down the empty hallway where Zane had just disappeared, my throat went dry. Silas wasn't the most dangerous person in this house anymore. It was his son.

Lorenzo slammed his combat boot onto the accelerator, the armored SUV launching forward as they cleared the final industrial gate. Ahead of their perimeter... a massive, roaring inferno of bright orange flames was aggressively tearing into the midnight sky. Warehouse Seven was actively burning, the historic wooden rafters groaning under the thermal strain. And standing perfectly upright on the high, unobstructed apex of the metal roof... holding a terrified, bleeding Leo Elmundo by the collar of his shirt at absolute gunpoint... was the scarred, ruthless frame of Vincent Hale. Vincent looked directly down through the smoke toward the headlights of Lorenzo’s approaching SUV, a sick, triumphal

Sarah stood by the window, her silhouette sharp against the orange glow of the perimeter fires. The door hissed open. I didn't need the sensors. The 102 BPM rhythm in my womb began to drum against my pelvis before he even cleared the threshold. Damian Morton stepped in. He looked like he’d crawled out of a furnace. His navy shirt was singed at the cuffs, the fabric stiff with salt and sweat. His right hand was tucked into his pocket, but I saw the tension in his shoulder—the way he carried the weight of the burn I’d given him.

“Sabrina doesn’t like being found. That’ll cost you.” Yvonne smiled, blowing smoke in his direction. “Name your price.” They negotiated while I stood there, heart pounding. Yvonne was calm, confident, playing the game like she’d done it a hundred times. The guy eventually nodded. “Fine. I can track her burner locations. Give me twenty minutes.” While he worked, Yvonne smoked another cigarette, leaning against the counter like she owned the place. I stayed quiet, nerves eating at me. When the guy finally looked up from his screens, he had an address scribbled on a piece of paper. But then his eyes landed on me again. He stared for a long second, tilting his head.

“Move or I’m gonna throw you to the fuckin’ floor, woman!” Why are you saying this to me? This rejection encompassed all; the Beast swallowed all memories of the dead child. Steve watched the driver’s expression shift from happiness to sorrow and back again, its unpredictability as dangerous and fickle as a bushfire. Years before as a volunteer for the State Emergency Service, Steve witnessed a winter backburn get out of control and turn against the wind to chew through three houses. Those flames frightened him then; the flame in driver frightened him now. She seared him deep. She seared them all.

She put out the hellfire on her hand and tried to pat out the flames to no avail. His skin burnt away and his flesh continued to disintegrate, but he kept on a relaxed smile and explained how it works. "Hellfire is the hottest fire there is and is often used for torture. It has intense crippling heat but kills a person very slowly. Like what's happening now. Oh, but it won't harm you. It recognises its creator." She looked at his hands where bones were starting to get exposed. The fire also seemed to move up to his wrists. "You can explain those later. Don't you want to extinguish this first?"

Burn! “Burned! Oh my God ... my life will never be calm. " Said Sandro standing up.