Hunter Road Rovers Novels & Stories

he says with a breathy laugh, his hands anchoring against my shoulders. "My wolf is getting very used to catching your frame," I tell him, slowly letting his waist go. We take a short, brisk hike over to the Nightclaw Rover. The vehicle is heavily lifted, sitting on fat, aggressive rubber tracks meant for climbing dangerous vertical trails and navigating wild pack borders. Luka walks completely around the massive frame, his eyes wide. "This machine is an absolute monster." I pull the heavy driver's door open, stepping back to leave the entrance clear. "Your wolf can take the wheel first."

They’ll want to check the wreckage to confirm I’m not inside. Keeping low to the ground, I hurried away from the crash as the hunters pulled up, hooting and hollering like the demented Americans they are. Now I don’t mean to say all Americans are demented. But the American hunters are an uncouth sort that takes a weird joy in killing, things being on fire, and vehicles getting into accidents. Whatever the case, their joyful hoots and hollers that I might be dead and arguments about who gets to take credit gave me time to get away. I hurried to the nearest neighborhood to search for a car to take.

The colors light pink and orange-yellow meshed together perfectly in the sky as the sun touched the horizon. I looked at him, he wasn't paying attention to the beautiful scenario presented to us. He was taking things out of the vehicle we came from, which I just noticed was a truck. The truck was a 2019 Chevrolet Silverado 3500HD. I suddenly envy Adrien a bit now. "Hunter!" He yelled my name, immediately snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at him a little confused on why he called me, and he motioned me to walk towards him. I obliged.

The cars are waiting and we all head to the Shadow Ridge pack house in an impressive ten car strong convoy. Hunter could do this by himself. That is how it is usually done, but these circumstances are anything but usual. During the brief drive, I have a few moments to reflect on the course of events that led us here. One thing keeps coming to mind, something seemingly small and insignificant, but it won’t leave my mind.

they scurry away like startled mice. More Hunters emerge from the truck, spilling out like clowns from a clown car at the circus. Seven in total, each one looking more stern and serious than the last. A couple of them lug stretchers from the back of the truck and carefully load up the battered and bruised Hunters. One of the newly arrived Hunters catches my attention. Let's call him Mr. Aura, because, well, he's got this formidable aura surrounding him like a force field. His eyes sweep over me and the destroyed yard, taking in the scene with a keen, assessing gaze.

LIORA'S POV The lead hunter’s finger was already pressing the trigger of the electric gun when the entire alley lit up. The loud, aggressive roar of our heavy-duty work truck came vibrating through the ground. Before the hunters could even blink, the truck skidded sideways, tires screaming as it slammed into a halt right at the alley’s entrance, blocking their only way out. The doors flew open before the engine had even fully died down. “Get your hands off them!” Renn’s voice was immediately heard. It carried a heavy power that made the air feel thick and hard to breathe.

Silver Haven Fortress The engines roared like beasts of steel and gasoline, a pack of black SUVs kicking up dust across the half-dead road that cut through Silver Haven’s ridges. Their headlights cut through the foggy gloom, beams dancing across pine and stone. Beside us, other convoys mirrored the sight—Green Briar, Pearl, Crescent, Celestia—all bound by one command. And weaving in and out of the formation ran wolves in their true forms, claws tearing earth, flanks bristling with harnesses strapped with rifles and knives.

Hunter exchanges his beautiful and expensive luxury sports cars for two SUV's: a Porsche and a Land Rover. Okay, the cars are beautiful and expensive, but I can't see Hunter wearing a Ray-Ban aviator in a big one. That is the part where I feel most touched. I like sports cars, and they are part of my daily life of "reconquering the girl with no memory". Cars give me great memories of a blank mind, and I associate Hunter with them. He combined all his arrogance and idiocy in those damn cars he sold, and now it's all gone. I sense he is crestfallen when the black Lamborghini is the last to leave with a screech. I know this because I feel the same way.

Hunter sprinted after Stone. He saw him cross the busy road without fear. The cars hooted causing traffic on the road. Hunter ran past the cars sliding on top of the hood of one car. He could see Stone looking back as he ran and everytime he did, he increased his pace but Hunter was on him like a lion. Getting closer to him, Hunter grabbed Stone's shirt bringing him to a stop and they both fell in the middle of the road.

I mutter, hatred still flowing through my veins instead of blood. I wrap the garrotte wire tighter across my hands, getting into stance as my eyes follow a subtle movement from the bushes. The signal is a howl from Ryker. Ragnar has us all briefed. My hands are covered in a pair of knuckle dusters. I had my leather jacket over my gear, which was actually a crop top and slick black pants that allowed me to move around, a utility belt with a series of knives strapped to it, and military boots. A howl sounds some distance in the front, just at the same time a group of rogues leap out of the bushes.