Huntington Comic Con Novelas e Histórias

Hunters are humans who have nothing to do with their lives so they began to stalk us werewolves and kill our kind for fun. I got settled in at a very luxurious hotel which is what I like. I made my way to where the meeting was being held I could tell that It was going to be a boring meeting but there is nothing I could do I have to attend this gathering for a few more days then I could go home.

Mine is a human male’s face hidden in the shadows, half of the face is complete with the crimson light of vengeance in one eye and the other half is the skeletal face of the male with an empty eye socket. Some of my other tattoos are pretty vicious-looking, and some hold what I’d like to think are the fractured parts of my soul. The security monitor mounted on my wall chirps a moment later, warning me that someone is outside my door. Entering my security code, I come face to face with the person on the other end. It’s Hunter Cohen; he’s one of the Confradia techs helping us hunt down Willem Kazik.

"Can we move now, Miss Hart?" I laughed, pulling on my dark glasses and hood as we boarded the steel bird. "Since we’re home, we’re going to the Pacific Crown Gala," Connor said as we leveled out above the clouds. The Pacific Crown was the ranking of the highest-earning hunters of the year. Jordyn was at the peak. But going alone would be walking into a den of lions. Connor wanted me there—not just to see the gap between me and the top three, but to be Jordyn’s shield.

The luncheon was at an exclusive hotel restaurant in the nearby pila town and Celeste grabbed the leash even though her dog did not need it. There had been two other Hunts since Wyatt had the first non-Hunt. The third one was approaching, and this would be the fourth non-Hunt. And of course, people were upset that the Midnight Sun Pack in Iceland would be holding another non-Hunt. Not the majority, but many packs still clung to the old ways. Which led to Celeste suffering through a luncheon with Luna’s that needed a good night at the strip club followed by a damned good fucking. Or maybe that’s what she needed.

“I’ll see you there, Ari. Be ready.” He hangs up. No goodbye. No explanation. Just vibes and chaos. I stare at my phone like it betrayed me. “Okay… that was weird.” I walk back into the family room, and everybody is staring like I walked in naked. “That was Hunter,” I announce. “He’s having a Christmas gala the second weekend of December. He wants all of us to come.” Patrick nods. “I already got my invitation, but no date.” “Well,” I say, “sounds like he’s sending those out now.”

The question nagged at me as I walked past a group of senior students who barely glanced my way. The main building housed administrative offices, a massive library, and what appeared to be social areas. I was exploring the upper floors when I heard music and laughter coming from behind ornate double doors marked "VIP Lounge." Through the glass panels, I could see an elegant space with plush seating, ambient lighting, and— My breath caught. There, lounging on a leather sofa with a drink in hand, was Hank Hunter. The Hank Hunter. Celebrity werewolf, actor, and rumored to be one of the strongest young Alphas of his generation. His blonde hair caught the light as he laughed at something someone

Anger boiled and spilled over underneath his skin, sending extreme heat jolting through every muscle and nerve ending. “That bastard.” “Everything okay, Mr. Hun—” Paul’s voice trailed off, submerged by the ringing sound in Scott’s head. He walked out, grasping his phone, still reading the article. “Ian Hunter will be giving a speech this evening at Hunter Autos grounds by 7 p.m.” 7 p.m. LA would be 10 p.m. New York. Scott glanced at his watch. 8:45 p.m. He scrolled through his phone. Contacts. Cedric. Dial.

Only time will tell on that. I sighed again as we grew closer and closer to the venue. The trees started to clear and there were less cars. The ground was paved with cement around a large hotel with large glass doors. It was the Black Moon Pack’s pride and glory. It was mostly a place for supernaturals to host events and not worry about humans being there unless the humans were part of the entertainment. “Let’s focus on what we should be expecting at this conference. Likely another push for Peter’s agenda.”

"Madness? What madness?" Wendy's smile vanished. Her face went pale. She twisted her hands. "The Hunt, Miss." My stomach, just filled with warm food, turned to a block of ice. I'd forgotten. In my haze of magical healing and bacon, I had forgotten. "The Hallowed Hunt," I said, the words flat. "It's tonight," Wendy whispered. "Tonight?" "At moonrise. The whole pack is in a frenzy. It's a celebration, Miss! A cleansing! The pack—they hated her. Luna Quinn. They're—they're happy. That the rot is being purged."

"I can not forgive you just yet. I need time. We both need time to make our relationship just like before" His face fell but he nodded in understanding. I felt bad for him for doing this but I just could not forget the last nine years or how I suffered all those years. Anna and her family were there but you can help a person to an extent. "I will forgive you but I need some time". We started eating in comfortable silence. When we finished I asked the question that I wanted to ask for so long. "What are you going to tell me about hunters? ". " You know the hunting season is around the corner. This year Jonathan has invited a few other hunter families . They are going to attack different packs