Hunter-gardener Novels & Stories

"The Gardener is not just a code name. He was the third partner of the Clare Laboratory. His name never appeared on the laboratory's books, but every final destination of the funds was signed off by him. He was the one who controlled the money. He was the one who made the decisions. I was just a tool." "I carried that burden for him for seven years, because he told me that if I spoke, he would kill you. Not in the sense of actually killing you—that was never the point. He would let you live, but he would make everyone around you disappear, one by one. Your brother. Your daughter. Everyone you have ever loved. I could not take that risk." "The fact that you are reading this now means he no lo

There used to be a small pack, but most of them had moved. Or someone had forced them to move. “I’ve killed several hunters, mom. Which one would you like to discuss? The one who I ripped apart piece by piece or the other one that I sliced open for information?” Mom gasped, “Raiden!” “Bye, mom. Contact me if you have any leads.” They hated us, and the more I was learning about hunters, the more I hated them. But even though I hated them, it was impressive the way they were organized.

I went to the window, and saw that it was coming from the middle-aged gardener who was busy trimming the flowers. I swallowed as I watched his Adam’s apple vibrate as he hummed. I could feel every drop of blood in his body calling unto me. I struggled really hard, but eventually, the hunger for his blood overpowered me and the only thing I could think of was biting into his neck and having a taste of him.

“12 out of 21 deer have been killed by this hunter.” Holding my spear, I am trying to catch my breath while paying my whole attention to the keeper. Keepers are the one who has the information of how many kills a hunter has in an hour. “None other than, Raffi of the Ambrose’s!” I saw my father fixing his hunter’s robe while wearing his huge smile. The whole tribe is excited especially the women of which gender I belong to. I started to walk to the wooden stage created by the tribe for this kind of ceremony. Everybody is happy and I hope this will last forever.

Another hunter pointed out, and Gavin and I had achieved our purpose. "I guess we have to go back to the drawing table to find out who is behind these attacks." Gavin said, "I sent a team of hunter's to checkout some rogue activities down town and it checked out. Unfortunately my team killed all eight of them. I feel it is quite strange that rogues could organise themselves like this. We all need to be on the look out." Gavin said, and they all agreed. We all talked some more and dispersed from the joint.

I'm like the pitiest werewolf on earth. “Yeah, we have...” I felt it deep in my soul when Hunter asked that. Especially, me, who lost everything, not just people. “That garden is in memory of her; I learned to move on, but after she died, it wasn't the same for Gordon. He finds it hard to do the same too. She liked to garden and had always dreamed of having one like that, so it only made sense to Hunter to create one in memory of her.” Hunter told me, and I looked at the garden; no wonder it looked so beautiful.

He didn't appear to be upset to be joining his mate at all. Of the more than 3,000 omegas that had started The Hunt, only 243 were still unclaimed. That night, 243 Hunters returned to the castle and planned the next phase of their attack. Because, at this point in the game, their animalistic nature could do nothing less than attack.

He arched his brow at me, and I scowled, looking away and pretending to be invested in the book on my lap. The tractor started up with a low, choking rumble and I watched as the gardener steered it forward, the chain whipping into a tight line and ripping the tree stump out of the ground. Aaron was striking the roots with a hatchet as they erupted from the earth, every muscle in his arms and back rigid with effort. I swallowed hard, struggling to keep my attention fixated on my book. A great snapping sound echoed through the garden as the stump came loose. Aaron raised his arms in triumph, hooting with glee as the gardener glanced round and gave him a wide smile.

I'm about to take off running after Ash when I see a gardener working on the rose bushes near the front door, so I walk to him first. "Good morning," I say when I reach him, he looks up at me, "When you have time... could you work on fixing up that side of the property? Clean it up real good, please. Take the weeds out and make sure there's no rodents around. You can gather a whole team if it's too much work, Alpha Remington said it's a priority for this week.” "Oh, alright," the gardener nods, standing up straighter when he hears his name, "I'll get my men to work on that side immediately."

The evening was calm, and the sky had turned a soft orange as the sun slowly went down. Adrian’s mansion stood quietly, surrounded by tall trees and beautiful flowers. The gardener, Mr. Ben, was watering the flowers in front of the house as usual. He was an old man, gentle and hardworking. He had worked for Adrian for years and respected him so much. Clara stood far away, watching from her car. She had been following the gardener for days, waiting for the right moment. When she saw him finish watering and pack his tools, she smiled coldly to herself.