Hunter Clarington Novels & Stories

The blade bit deep, but the wolf barely flinched, its eyes fixed on Sheila with a deadly intent. Clark, who had been watching the fight with a mixture of fascination and trepidation, finally sprang into action. He revealed his true nature as a hunter, drawing out his dagger from beneath his jacket hand, his movements swift and deadly as he joined the fight. Together, Sheila and Clark fought the wolf, their weapons clashing with its claws as they danced across the garage floor.

Juliana also introduced some familiar faces to Hilda. Juliana suddenly pointed to a group photo and said, "Look, this is your friend, Anthony Clark from the Institution. He used to come by every month and kept at it for many years. He came even earlier than you. Later..." Later, he died and never came again. Anthony Clarkk… Hilda's heart skipped a beat. She looked at the group photo, on which was the face of an unfamiliar man. It was Anthony's old face. Later, he died saving people and was given a big burial.

Jiya says, taking a seat in the armchair across from my desk. “Or that wolves from the royal pack would be coming and going, apologizing to you for their past transgressions and asking for training advice,” Claira’s voice calls from the doorway, and I look up to find my friend walking inside, the fresh mate mark on her neck prominent for all to see. It turned out that a warrior named Dustin Knox was Claira’s mate. He was one of the few who neither spread rumors about me nor defended me from them. He came with some warriors two weeks ago, intending to apologize and make things right when Claira arrived at the pack house after returning with a hunting party.

However, just when the game was about to end, my eyes caught a glimpse of something that made me stop. I noticed that Clark had a peculiar tattoo on his arm I believed was similar to what we found in Hunter Grey. Based on my quick observation, the tattoo was an intricate design of a demented clown, with elongated limbs and a twisted grin on its face. The colors used were vibrant yet grotesque, with shades of mustard yellow, deep red, and silky green. The clown's eyes were black and soulless as if they were staring right into your deepest fears. But the weirdness of the tattoo did not stop there. Around the clown's body were tiny, almost indiscernible symbols and lines that seemed to move and

He inhaled a very long breath. “You must be alert, Vlad Lup…” Clayton straightened his back and one of his hands still kept holding his left arm. He let Professor Hügel help him to pull down his sleeve that was stained with his blood. “I will Professor…don’t worry…” He tried to beam and dismiss the worry on the professor’s face. “It’s my battle, I’ll promise you. It won’t involve any members of The Hunkers or the protectors or even The Council.” Clayton tried to convince the professor.

I giggled until we reached the side of the chieftain’s body. “I’ll go and retrieve the chieftain’s head. Carter, you stay with Suna.” Clairmont stepped back and swirled his body before he entered flight more and fled away from us. After he did, I folded the sleeves of my tunic and tested the chieftain’s skin durability by leaving my footprint on its skin.

The blue light intensify right at his very eyes and my gaze couldn't take off and receive such blinding blue light, traced more than my mind can hold. Then a fantastic collision just clash before our very eyes. One is that of blue, and one is a strange white that is coming from inside of me. I thought while my heart is shaken, “I don't know what you mean by calling me your luna, Alarkin. But you understimated this curse huntress. How can I the one to forget this very night?” The moment he regain the clarity, I aready disappear without trace. That after I certain for the very important thing, and I can only sigh the conflicted beat in my heart.

Clarion sighed, “Kai, your inability to do your job shouldn’t be put on me. You’re the incompetent one, why am I getting blamed for this?” Cillian was truthfully not surprised to hear Clarion had a hand in this. She had tried to kill him a number of times and she didn’t even bother to be subtle about it. To him, there was no other person as cruel as she was. “You gave them the one thing they can use to wipe the whole of us out! Clarion! What was going through your mind?” Clarion shook her head and rose to her feet, she made her way around the table, “if you had called me here to talk about your incompetence, I’m sorry but I am busy, maybe next time we can talk about it over wine.”

There was a large white reception desk just inside the front door. “Good evening, we are here to see Amelia Clarke.” I always kept my distance one step back from Logan. “Ah, Mr. Carter. Of course. Miss Clarke has not arrived yet; however, we do have a room ready for her. Please follow me.” Logan smiled towards me and extended his hand to follow the officer on the desk. Taking a deep breath, I followed him to a door where he swiped a card for it to open. Looking over my shoulder, I checked constantly that Logan was one step behind me at every turn.

At that point she cleared out the region as quick as she might move her feet. They cornered Claw, howling questions at him in a anger of mixed voices. Claw was harmed but pushed it down profound to spare confront. He held out his hands, and the picture takers halted snapping. “Please,” he said with a plastic grin. “I will take all of your questions, but one at a time, please.” “What is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Burch?” somebody shrieked. Fuck, if I know. Talon kept up his smile like it had been sewn onto his confront. He clapped his hands together and chuckled like a appropriate politician.