Primal Hunter Book 5 Novels & Stories

Cain fought it, was fighting it and ran when he couldn’t do it. “Then what, how do you catch them?” “You hunt them, and take them.” “Then you know what you have to do.” He grinned, and I shook my head. It was too simple, so simple. I had to hunt him, to show him I wasn’t going to give up and make him mine. Cain would respond like the primal being he was, and he would fight me; we would do this dance in blood and pain. “I’m not sure I can win against him,” I said softly as I began to put away the herbs I had been working with.

Alpha Lewis cleared his throat, speaking politely, “Alpha Hunter, I apologize about last night. It's known, even to my daughter that I entertain female company, but I assure you it won't happen again while you're here.” Without even looking at him, Hunter replied, “I would appreciate that. Thank you.” With flat voice. Then Hunter looks at me, determined voice mindlink echoes in my head ‘No more sudden moves, no more delays and games; it’s time to go back home, to our pack.’

Nothing felt like enough. “Silas,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest. His breathing was shallow, his body too still. The scent of silver mixed with blood was suffocating. The hunters were getting closer. I could see their shadows through the gaps in the trees, hear their low voices cutting through the air. I squeezed my eyes shut, muttering a prayer to anyone who might be listening. A shift in the wind made my breath catch. A familiar voice rang through the air. “Let’s wrap this up! We’ve got enough!” Orin.

Well shit. I was not expecting all that. The Hunter just verbally spilled his guts and essentially bared his soul in one sitting. And of all the reasons he could be on the run, I hadn’t considered that he killed someone that high up in his guild, least of all his mother.

At the center, the Archivist floats, her body a conduit for the void, her voice a siren song erasing warriors mid-swing. The Hunter loads his gun. "You sure?" I cock the storm-gun. "I'm done running." We charge. --- **The Final Verse** The Archivist sees us coming. "*Fools!* You can't kill a god!" "We're not here for the god," the Hunter snarls. "We're here for the *priest*." He fires. The bullet tears through her mosaic face, glass shards scattering. She screams, the void in her unraveling. I aim at the rift above her-a pulsating wound in the sky. The static in me surges, merging with the storm-gun's charge.

There was only the weight of my hands and the heat of the fire. The first true test of our return was the Primal Hunt. We didn't use scouts or sensors to track the elk herds through the valley. Killian shifted into his massive, slate grey form, his silver eyes flashing with a predatory joy that I hadn't seen since the first year of our union. I shifted beside him, my White Wolf form feeling heavy and powerful as I dug my claws into the rich, dark soil of the mountain.

Most of all, I missed Freya and hearing her name was worse. Dillon pulls me into his arms “You did good, babe.” “I don’t want to do that again.” “You won’t have too.” He tries to reassure me. But throughout the entire last year, I knew it would come. I knew that they would find me at some point. I knew that I would have to use the very thing I hate against them. And if they found me, others would. “They will come.” I tell Dillon as he hugs me. “I won’t let them.” But no matter how much he tried to reassure me, at the end of the day. He was just a human. He wouldn’t stand a chance against wolves. The day will come where I would be the cause of his death.

I don’t remember what happened next but I woke up and found myself wandering in the darkness. I kept walking until I realized that this is never going to end. I fall to my knees, sobbing. Well I guess I’m stuck here. I sighed and pulled my knees to my chest, hugging it as I let all my tears just slip freely from my eyes. I wonder what is Hunter doing right now. He won the challenge, so I guess he finally got what he always wanted. I’m never going to see him again am I? Well at least I know he’d be a great alpha to his pack.

The pack joined, their voices intertwining to create one eerie low that echoed through the night. They charged through the trees, bursting from the shadows. The sound of arrows being notched and guns cocking filled the gaps between the howls. The Huntress strode across the field, the snow crunched underneath her boots. She flipped two blades from her sleeves a wicked grin on her painted, blood-red lips. ####

she grinned, “you’d best get talking. Tell us everything you know.” The walls opened up as I talked, weaving a new narration that told them everything they needed to know, and missed out everything they didn’t. Duty filled my veins, and even the guilt couldn’t find its way back in. My blood burned with the weight of it, a relentless pounding that thudded alongside my bones, telling me that this was right, that this was what I’d been made to do. Every inch of my body was packed with muscle, and my skin was scarred from the fights I’d won. I was a hunter, no matter who I loved, no matter my morals. Beneath it all, I knew what I had to do.