Hunter Series Book Novels & Stories

And in that moment, the first Hunter was born. In the aftermath of the tearing, Allen Erickson didn't return to the football field. The golden boy of Asheville had been hollowed out, replaced by a vessel of cold, focused insanity. He spent his days in the charred husks of libraries and the hidden basements of occult bookstores, the ancient mage inside him guiding his hands toward manuscripts that would have driven a normal man to madness. He was studying, not for a degree, but for a genocide.

He unlocked the gun case and gestured inside. “Pick. Ladies first, gentlemen.” A shiver ran down my spine as his husky voice washed over me. I grabbed a rifle, not even caring which one it was in my hurry to get away from the tantalizing scent the man wore. I deposited my bag inside of the gun safe and walked out of the hall. I was determined to put as much distance between me and them as I could. We normally hunted in groups, but my father had taught me well enough that I could take down a deer by myself. Getting it back to town, on the other hand, would require the men. Fuck.

What excuse did the people have for being here? Shaking my head, I put my arms on my knees and noticed the scratch on the back of my hand. I got it today when we were hunting the Candir. Canis proles, or the descendant of dogs, who appeared to be a mixture of a golden retriever and a polar bear. When I tried to avoid the huge paws, my hand hit the bike stand. It had hurt a lot, but it was better than being caught by those snow-white beasts. Especially since his companion was lurking right behind it. I knew the Venator's job was dangerous, but would I really get injured every time I hunted? Even if it was just such small scratches?

We acted as if we were completely oblivious to the fact that the natives danced around us. Suddenly, Max stepped out of the dark and into the firelight. His gun was drawn. He pulled Peter and me apart before he shot and killed most of the natives when they tried to stop him from taking me away with him. I woke up the following morning, sweating profusely.

"I'm going towards Marble hill. Hop in." The drive took 40-45minutes to WHLS, I stepped down and offered a thank you before going into the school. I strode to my locker, bringing out my books and stuff, and quickly pushing them inside my bag. I walked through the hallway leading to the detention class but was pulled into the toilet by strong hands. I yelped out and freed myself immediately. "Stop dragging me in like a dog." I snorted at Cathy. She rolled her eyes. "The hunters have been on my trail.

A man on foot had broken free of his hiding spot and was gunning it after us, running at an impossible speed. I didn't need to see the light sucking black surrounding his pupils, annihilating the whites of his eyes to know what he was. I could tell by the way his arms jerked as he bounded towards us, closing the gap between hunter and prey. I slipped my gun from the holster strapped to my thigh and let off three rounds the same instant the front tire ran a hole, jarring my shots and sending them wide. "Keep it steady!"

Attention Hunter's Revenge is the sequel to the book 'The Mark'. It is highly recommended to read this after reading 'The Mark' for better understanding. Hunter's Revenge can be read as a stand-alone book, but I do not recommend it. I will not be providing insight to characters from 'The Mark'. So in order to properly enjoy the reading experience, I recommend not reading Hunter's Revenge without reading 'The Mark' first. I promise you won't regret reading it.

I rolled my eyes at him, and he gave another shout of laughter. The ride continued in silence until we got to the main highway. I could see a dark shadow of a vehicle parked off to the side and realized it was Nellie and the other warrior. They flashed their lights at us and followed us up on to the highway. I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. “Is it true you were a werewolf hunter?” Bob asked. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me earnestly. “Yeah,” I acknowledged.

Hunter had given me a simple task: find the traitor, and eliminate him quietly. I wasn’t blind. I knew that even the smallest mistake could unravel everything we’d worked for, so I was meticulous. I followed the usual routes— checked in with the informants I trusted, observed the pack’s movements— but something felt off. There was a flicker of something different, something I couldn’t quite place. My instincts itched at the back of my mind, telling me there was more going on beneath the surface.

Curious, I reach for it and brush it off. "Ooh," I gasp. It's not a book about werewolves. It's a hunter’s manual. Frowning, I flip through the pages and notice it’s is filled with gruesome details of how to hunt werewolves, how to kill them, and how to torture them. I glance up at Lucian, arching my brow. "Why would your parents have a book about werewolf hunters?" I ask, thumbing through more of the horrifying pages. Lucian lifts his head briefly to look at me, then lowers it back down to the stack of papers he’s sifting through.