Killer Instinct Jennifer Lynn Barnes Novels & Stories

"Don't analyze me, Julian." "It is not an analysis; it is an observation," he said softly, his thumb tracing the curve of her jawline. "Your heart rate is elevated, your pupils are dilated, and your respiration is shallow. Your mind is looping through the kinetic event in the bedroom. You are trying to reconcile the act of preservation with the act of violence." "I killed him," she choked out, her voice cracking as the raw weight of it finally broke through her defenses. "I didn't even hesitate. I just... I drove the key in. I wanted him to stop. I wanted you to live."

I fisted my hands in my pockets and gritted out, “Her name is Hazel. And what I do with her on that campus is none of your goddamn business.” “Everything you do is my business, Killian,” Richard countered sharply. He stood and looked out the window. “You forgot your place. You think because I let you be, allowed you to do whatever you like, play your little games at Legacy Thorne, you get to act like a reckless animal? Isn’t she the same girl you bullied in this city? Ah, let me correct that, the same girl you almost killed me for?” He turned to me with a smirk on his face.

But I was already aware of his pull, the way it tightened around me like invisible chains. My wolf stirred beneath my ribs, faintly at first, a heartbeat of awareness I hadn’t felt in years. She had been dormant, silenced by years of abuse and neglect. And now, under Killian’s watchful gaze, she flickered to life again. Weak, uncertain, but present. I could feel her claws scraping at the inside of my chest, urging me to rise, to move, to survive.

Lena Thompson had made the deal. She had signed the contract. She had crossed the line. But now? Now they were asking her to do the one thing she couldn’t. Jessica Ramirez’s face stared back at her from the file in front of her. A standard dossier—black-and-white photo, known aliases, last known locations, skills assessment. It was cold. Clinical. Like she was just another name on a list. But she wasn’t. She was Jessica. And that meant Lena had exactly twenty-four hours to decide if she was going to become a killer… or if she was going to burn this entire thing to the ground.

It howled in anguish and then fell to the ground at my feet. My labored breathing was the only sound in the jungle. Killian came over, his face inscrutable. He said, "You hesitated." I said, "I didn't want to kill him." Slowly, he nodded. That's what sets you apart. But you might die if you hesitate. ---

-Glendy. “Thank you for taking care of me. I'm Jenny.” “Jenny… Jenny, are you okay?” -Amelie. “I accidentally killed my husband's mistress, I only shot my husband. But the bullet penetrated and the mistress was hit and died. I hope my husband is the only one who died, I hope there's only me with my two children." “What did you say? I hope your husband and his mistress both died! He is an idiot! He managed to bring his mistress to your house! In front of your children." -Haressa.

She asked now agitated. "Increase the volume Alvin,” I instructed and waited until he did before continuing. “I have just confirmed from Claire that Jennifer was the lady who visited Katia that morning and the one who landed the killing strike." I explained further and I could see Eva’s face twisting as my words started to sink in, I was pretty she’d want to match to Buckhead and get her out.

By the time I get inside, Jenson had already poured me a glass of wine. I kick off the damn trainers. The arches of my feet are killing me from the flat footwear. Give me heels any day. I settle on the sofa as he pours himself a whisky. “Everything. I don’t care if we are up all night. I need to hear everything. She has killed, right, that’s true?” He nods. “She likes to go for the heart. She shifts to kill. She never shifts just to run or anything else. At least she never used to.”

Trained. He’s done this before. Another shot split the air. It tore through the wall two feet from her face. Aria crawled behind the heavy oak bookshelf, breathing hard, heart slamming against her ribs like a trapped bird. Killian fired twice out the window fast, controlled, a rhythm that said don’t get closer. “I thought this place was off-grid!” Aria shouted. “It was.” He ducked behind a kitchen counter, grabbed a burner phone, smashed it underfoot. “You led them here?”

My husband's childhood friend, Sarah, killed my parents, and my husband, Nom, covered it up, choosing to shield her instead. I was left with no choice but to break our Mate Bond and avenge my parents. "Nom, we found Sarah's fingerprints all over the murder scene. We've got solid proof. If we corner Jem with this, he'd back down from the fight to become the next Alpha, no question. Why are we even looking for another angle?" The beta's voice carried through the quiet study, his body wedged behind the slim door, effectively hiding the man at his desk.