Hunter Hunter Novels & Stories

“Are you under attack, Fran?” I was able to mirror his smile. “I think we can say so, yeah.” The waiter brought the bill and Harry handed him a black credit card. “How much? I mean, you need me to hold you, kiss you, just rest a casual hand on the small of your back?” “Grab me by the hand to leave.” “That’s subtle.” Harry chuckled softly. “Breathe, Fran. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Or a Haunter. The Haunter Supreme, to be accurate. I was still seeing him. And he was still staring at me, like wishing oh so bad his eyes were knives.

I start to head north when I get another link from Jace. Kade coming your way fast. I just caught sight of the rogue headed that way and it looks like there’s a hunter on his tail. Looks like he went too far south and got spooked back this way. Thanks for the heads up. I’m on it. I close the link again and turn back south keeping my eyes peeled for any movement and my ears up listening for the chase. After a few minutes I think Jace may have been a little off in telling me the direction, when I hear the faint sound of a dirt bike. That must be the hunter chasing after the rogue. We need this one since the last one we had decided to kill himself, and with the woman this morning we have even m

Still better than the alternative, which is keeping my spine to an Alpha and calling it a plan. Up close he's worse, which I knew he would be, which is somehow also insulting. Gold eyes, the wolf swimming around behind them, looking at me the way a thing looks at you when it's already calculated the odds on which of us is faster and found the answer amusing. My crossbow hangs off one of his fingers by the trigger guard while he decides whether to give it back or mount it on a wall with a little brass plaque. HUNTER'S. FAILED, REPEATEDLY.

I screamed, breaking cover and running toward them. I found them in a small clearing. The Hunter was lying on his back. He was dressed in grey tactical camouflage, his face covered by a sleek, full-face mask with glowing green lenses. A high-tech compound bow lay in the dirt nearby. Ashren was straddling him, his good hand clamped around the Hunter’s throat, his other hand raised, claws extended, ready to rip the mask off. "Give me one reason not to open your jugular," Ashren snarled.

Trent's voice carried a hint of concern as he shared the news. "Hunter encountered a school of whites and other dangerous creatures in a frenzy. He's currently pinned down, waiting for an opportunity to find a safer path," Trent informed them, his voice laced with a mixture of urgency and caution. Joe couldn't help but be amazed by Trent's connection with Hunter, their scout who was venturing ahead of them. It was as if they shared a telepathic link, allowing them to communicate even at a distance. Tritan's curiosity mirrored Joe's, prompting him to seek clarification.

The room’s shadows seem to cling to them, amplifying their menacing presence. The hunter’s eyes scan the room, cold and calculating. They spot me, and for a moment, their gaze seems to pierce right through me. There’s a flicker of recognition, but then they’re turning their attention back to Luke. The hunter pulls out a weapon—a sleek, silver blade with intricate engravings that catch the light.

My stomach dropped. "What?" He nodded. "I hired investigators to find you after you dared to run from me that morning. It took them a week to find you." Something was slamming hard against my rib cage in a really violent way. I knew what it was. My heart. "I found out who you were—Matteo Leone, a twenty three year old bisexual man, living in your father's house like a prisoner." He leaned forward slightly. "I learned everything about you—your urm... useless family, and your situation within hours of funding you."

After that, a different kind of satisfaction came across me. I enjoyed hunting these human hunters, thus, killing 10 werewolves and being the youngest and best werewolf hunter. Rendall killed 8 werewolves which are also not that bad, Quinn is setting poisonous traps and putting some on the bows granting her 4 kills. We make a great team. “Let’s go, Raffi.” I turned and saw Rendall brushing his mid-length hair using his fingers. “Are you going on a date?” I asked him as I scanned his clothes.

Hunter killed the f*cker who was on top of him and that was when his eyes fell on the flicker of caramel skin behind the trees far away from him. His eyes narrowed and then widened realizing it was Silvia. Hunter felt raw fury consume his very being and all he saw was red.

Without the noise of his devotion, I could see the exact angle of the Stalker’s rifle through the cedar logs. BOOM. The door didn't just break; it disintegrated. A high-frequency charge turned the wood into a rain of splinters. Through the smoke, the first silver-masked Hunter stepped over the threshold, his infrared lens glowing. I didn't scream. I lunged. I used the leaden weight of my stone arm as a club. I slammed the quartz wrist into the Hunter’s throat before his optics could track my 0.3-second lag. Crack. The sound of his windpipe collapsing was a dry, satisfying thud.