Peter Hale Novels & Stories

Argus said with a sneer in my direction. "I am sorry about that, but you offer a different perspective and I just wanted that from you. I know you are probably quite busy, but I'd just really like to talk to you." Argus stared at me for a minute and really seemed to consider me before nodding ever so slightly. "Good, well you all know my name, but maybe I could get yours?" "I'm Argus." Tessa-Lee's old owner said. "I'm Peter." The old man grunted.

I ask restlessly, practically sinuous, recovering from the alarm he gave me and with a hand on my heart. -Keys.- "I realize they're keys," I'm right. What I need to know is what they are actually doing after explaining it. "Peter had them." "Peter?" Rehash confused. “Peter Hale,” he tells me, but I don't really see who he's talking about. Lara's organic father, the guy who messed with me and turned me into a werewolf. A similar person who got into you in the coldest time of the year dances two years earlier. "Is...Peter?" Rehash, this time having a dark memory of that night and a much clearer one of the night we were walking through the woods and a red-eyed an

When they had all gathered, the commissioner stood before them. “My only daughter is missing. Find her, use all the resources necessary and do everything to find her. find her and bring her back to me alive. Kill whoever tries to stop you. It is an order. Do you understand?” “Yes sir!” the men chorused. He gave them a few information he thought they could need and asked them to come to him if they needed any resources. When he left, the captain of the team briefed the men. Hailey, the name of the missing girl was last seen with her friends at the club at the late hours of Friday night and had been missing for three days.

Dominic Hale. Former special ops. Now a discreet fixer for high-net-worth clients who needed problems solved quietly. Hale had been many things in his life, but above all, he was a strategist. He didn't save Damon out of compassion. He saved him because Damon was a chess piece that had more moves left and Hale hated wasted potential. "Is he stable?" a voice asked. A woman in her early forties, her sharp gaze framed by auburn hair tied in a sleek bun, entered the room. Dr. Renata Voss - Ex-military medic turned private consultant. One of the few people Hale trusted.

“I don’t know. But the timing after that article, after everything, it felt too convenient.” Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe. Or maybe someone else wants us to think it’s him.” Before I could answer, Adrian’s voice came through the door. “Serena.” We both stood up right away. Adrian walked in, hsu face unreadable. Nathan, who was holding a folder, followed behind him. Adrian’s voice was steady. “We’ve identified him. His name is Robert Hales. He used to be a private detective and now works for a fake company connected to the Cross Corporation.”

“And more specifically, what the Hell's going on? What the hell did they do? Or is it one?” “Rogues. They've been roaming around too close, looking, searching, as if waiting for something to happen.” Alessandro replied, quick and clipped. “Two sightings near the east perimeter. Patrol brought one down, the other escaped. The body’s in the courtyard. It’s… not clean. I don't know how to explain it better than this.” “Not clean?” I asked, trying to process what he was saying. “I believe that the best way to it would be through words. You know, you can use your mouth to speak.”

The kind of place people visited to have conversations they didn't want interrupted. I spotted the investigator first. He sat near a window, pretending to read something on his phone. Giving me space. Watching. Waiting. Then I saw the man. Daniel Hale. He looked older than I expected. Late fifties. Maybe early sixties. Grey beginning to take over his dark hair. Tired eyes. The eyes of someone who carried old memories. He looked up as I approached. Immediately recognizing me. "Aaron Briggs." I stopped beside the table. "Mr. Hale."

"Mr. Cyprian Hale is coming personally." Lyra swallowed hard. "Okay. That’s... suboptimal." Leo adjusted his tie. "We stand by our actions. Protect the pack." "He's going to kill us," Lyra whispered. "Or worse. He's going to make us do manual labor with Oryn." Ten minutes later, the outer door opened. The secretary didn't announce him. She was too busy trembling. Cyprian Hale walked in. He was seventy years old now. His hair and beard were silver white. He walked with a heavy, ebony cane topped with a silver wolf’s head. He wore a three-piece suit that looked like it was cut from midnight.

“I’m guessing Caleb hasn’t told you about me then?” the woman asked, Cassandra’s puzzled expression gave her the answer she needed, she laughed, but it lacked any mirth to it, “I’m Gayle, the real Alpha bitch of this pack, the one who has been keeping Caleb’s bed warm before your wretched self came into this compound and the one who is going to drag you out of here by your hair once I cure Caleb of whatever spell you’ve cast on him.”

The ache in his chest grew worse with every passing day. The next morning, they returned to the northern border—defeated but not broken. Alexandro stood in his war chamber, soaked but silent. His commanders waited nearby, but he waved them off. He needed time to think. To plan. Searching for Serena in the vast ocean had proven futile. And if this path was failing, he had to consider the next most logical lead: Valerian. His gut told him that the pirate abduction wasn’t random. The precision, the use of silver, the timing—it all felt too planned. Too calculated. And who better to orchestrate such a move than Valerian?