My S Class Hunters Novels & Stories

My phone buzzed with a text from Uncle Mateo: "Stay put. Hunters outside. Not just Maison's unit." My stomach clenched. Hunters outside usually meant one thing—someone had picked up a scent they weren't supposed to. I moved to the window and carefully peered through the blinds. Sure enough, three black SUVs had pulled up alongside the diner. Men in tactical gear emerged, their movements precise and coordinated. They weren't carrying visible weapons—they never did in public—but I knew what was concealed beneath their jackets. Silver-tipped ammunition, wolfsbane grenades, and restraints designed to hold even the strongest Alpha.

The only thing left is the weakness she's still feeling. We came down from the truck with me grabbing my lucky axe and my backpack. I tucked my Beretta into my belt and got my axe ready in hand. I saw Austin arming himself with his Kimber Custom TLE II (EM) 1911 pistol and a blade he produced from his backpack. Clara took her katana from the back of the truck and used it to support herself as she walked .

That’s the problem. I find him in the back warehouse. Kael isn’t alone. Through the half-open door, I see crates stacked high, the smell of oil and gunpowder thick. A man I don’t recognize stands opposite him; human, by the stink of him. Pale face, slick hair, expensive suit that doesn’t belong anywhere near our world. Hunters. My stomach twists as Kael cracks open a crate, revealing gleaming rifles. Not just rifles. Modified. UV rounds, silver edges, weapons designed to shred wolves from the inside out.

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.

When we were kids, she used to get us into all kinds of trouble and I would always get blamed for it because once she flashed those big blue eyes, no one could accuse her of any wrongdoing. “To do it more often?” I laughed, thankful for the comic relief. Despite my bravado and earlier reassurances to Devon, I was still nervous. As he said, I did not like to kill animals. Werewolves were actually peaceful creatures and we didn’t hunt other animals asides from the Grant Hunt and the wolves who did it for sport. It wasn’t banned or anything so they were in their rights. It just wasn’t something I liked doing. For this reason, I was nervous. Plus, the Alpha’s arrogant son, Louis was participatin

Everyone in the mansion was busy, frantically moving from one point to another. She saw Liam and the other soldiers from the Delta Elite getting ready with all their combat gear. This is really not necessary for them, but according to Solana, it helps them from initial attacks from the hunters which use wolfsbane to weaken and crippled them. The gear shields them, especially the hunters were very traditional, they prefer the use of bow and arrow instead of guns.

says another. Three hunters. All Male. The hunters pass within twenty feet of my hiding spot. The oldest one carries silver-tipped arrows. Another has thermal goggles strapped over his eyes. The third, and youngest, is white knuckling a handgun like it’s a life raft. “Thought these things were supposed to be monsters,” the younger hunter mutters. “So far, all I've seen is a piss poor Tarzan cosplay.” “Don’t get cocky,” the older one snapped. “The small one already killed three men before they shot him with a tranq.”

I shouted. A fresh squad of contract hunters had reached the upper rampart from the south tower. Unlike the royal guards, these men carried heavy combat shotguns loaded with silver-dust canisters and pressurized netting launchers. They did not care about capturing anyone alive anymore. They were here to clean the field. The lead hunter raised his launcher, aiming directly at the tangled mass where Dante and Adrian were still tearing at each other on the lower ledge. "Dante!" I screamed. The canister fired with a sharp hiss.

This tent is smaller, and it’s just for the two of us. “How did you know where he would be?” Kaely asks. “I don’t know,” I say. And now that we’re here, I really don’t want to waste time talking about the hunt. We’re still naked from our shift. I’m running my hands all over him, and he’s already hard, no doubt helped along by the exertion of hunting and killing a Moon Caster. Still, he stops me. He holds me away at arm’s length. “You didn’t follow the scent,” he says, his eyes narrowed. “The scent turned to the side, but you went straight on.”

He is standing with his back turned against me, his eyes trained on the other person. I focus on him instead. He looks stunned, his eyes widened, and his lips parted. “That is impossible,” he mutters, shaking his head. “That veil hasn’t been breached in years. Who could have…” “Only one breed,” he drawls. “Hunters.” “Shit!” I didn’t think they were going to figure it out so fast. My breath hitches in my throat when he angles his head a fraction, when everything suddenly stops, as if he can sense me.