Huntress Skyrim Novels & Stories

A servant meets us near the barracks, already strapping packs onto our backs, plain cloth bundles with clean clothes inside, nothing more. As soon as the last strap is secured, I run, my hunters following without a sound. Each of these four warriors has been handpicked over years–sharp-eyed, lethal, and loyal down to the bone. “We move fast,” I say through the link. “We want to get to Lunemar before guests leave.” Kyra glances south. “Lady Mireth?” “Yes. Rumors of black magic travel quickly in Virechant.” By the time we near Mireth’s estate, it’s twilight, and the lamps have been lit. Oil lanterns swing along the outer wall, casting a glow over the cedar hedges and the glinting edge of stone

A lot of the students are only wearing slippers and pajamas, and they've wrapped themselves in blankets and moth-eaten hats we found in the closet. “Hey.” Brynn points at the window. “I just saw something.” My heart jumps into my chest. “What?” She licks her lips. “It looked like … the sun glinting off of some metal.” We all freeze, staring at each other in fear. Metal as in a Silver Hunter’s sword? Putting a finger to my lips, I slip back to the window and peek out. There's a figure moving through the trees, and my heart pounds as I recognize the familiar shape of a Silver Hunter. It's a woman with long, dark hair and a silver sword strapped to her back. She's scanning the tree line for any

A second followed, and then a crack of splintering wood. The heir drew her sword, planting her boots at the top of the short entry stairs. “They want a fight in the halls? Let them choke on it.” The doors burst inward. The first wave came in low and fast—mercenaries with short axes and round shields, screaming in a language Eolan didn’t know. Behind them, the assassins of the Obsidian Creed moved like shadows within shadows, slipping between the defenders with blades drawn for the kill. Eolan’s shadow lashed out, tripping one mercenary and dragging another into the air before smashing him against a pillar. The heir cut two down in a single sweeping arc, her blade ringing against an assassin’

‘Hi, Natasha. A horse whinnied and my eyes snapped open. I peered through the hay to see Lee methodically searching the stalls below. I glanced at the window on the other side of the loft and wondered if I could make it there. I carefully moved the hay and crept over to it. I slowly opened it and climbed out of it. I took a deep breath and leapt off the window sill. I landed in someone’s arms. “Found you,” Lee said, grinning down at me.

I ducked under his arm and turned fast enough that his blade sliced across my jacket instead of my spine. My hand caught his wrist and I drove my knee into his stomach to make him bend over just enough for me to slam my knife into his throat while I ripped his weapon free. I looked at his weapon and I instantly knew that something was wrong. The blade was too dark and the edge had a slick shine that didn’t belong. Even in the moonlight I could see the coating along the metal and a memory hit me straight away. It was coated in anti-healing toxin. I felt the anger rise in my stomach because these weren’t random leeches and they had come prepared for wolves. They knew what they were doing and t

Anestra. The Sorceress was in a cloak with a pattern reminiscent of peacock feathers. She stood out completely as she quickly covered the icy terrain. Her cloak swished soundlessly, moving like it was made of mist. It did not seem to touch the floor. The Mother of the Stormbringers gracefully ascended the steps to her ice throne, turning her back on them fearlessly. She moved like she was being admired not hunted. She sat on her ice throne, her dark hair swirling gently though there was no wind. She was beautiful in an inhuman way. Her eyes seemed to magically change colour, sea-green one moment and then brilliant blue the next. She had high sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin. She slowly lo

Zen wondered. Akiko, Oritha or Liu Feng might choose to swim and pummel those monsters to death at the bottom of the lake. He had no idea if Sasha employed the same strategy or if she sniped through the water to get those kills. However, none of his existing party members hunted variants. He couldn’t ask them for advice. Thankfully, he only had to worry about the Shady Merchant’s request and hunt nineteen more Pixie Prank Parasol Mushrooms. === Item: Pixie Prank Parasol Spores

he said, and I looked at him, surprised. "Yep, I tested her, and she passed. She is John Hunter's daughter, alright. Her brain is like her father's brain. Her memory is unbeatable." He confirmed. "How?" I asked. "She read and summarised six hunter's grimoires in two days. She can tell you everything about eliminating werewolves, vampires, and witches. Her assimilation skill is very high. Are you sure you want me to train her because once that dam is opened, there will be no shutting it?" He said, and I stared at him, thinking, how could a human being read and summarise six grimoires in two days? I was proud of Karen.

"If you want to live to see the next moonrise, hire the contract killer now," Seraphina Duskryn hissed, her sharp claws digging into the surface of the iron table inside the Blackmoor Pack House. She stared down at the crisp high-definition surveillance photos scattered across the stone floor. Every shot captured my form. Xender Stormriven, moving with lethal precision through Nightfall Territory, my leather jacket tight over broad shoulders, twin silver daggers strapped to my thighs, and my jaw set in a cold, hard line.

“Zen… I can… can’t cum anymore.” All those nerves come back with Sima half passed out, and the first claw—the lead Huntress—examines her for seed. Even if my face is half black with the paint that’s mandatory to walk as one of them, the blush goes to my ears with the woman eye-level to my still-throbbing shaft. Checking that everything between Sima’s thighs is clear rather than milky white.