Primal Hunter Novels & Stories

Heir-Hunters were Crown weapons bred for one purpose only, to find and kill any pup born outside the bloodline rules and right now his entire focus was locked on my stomach. He lunged straight at me and the last thing I saw was Kael roaring my name as the monster closed the distance.

“12 out of 21 deer have been killed by this hunter.” Holding my spear, I am trying to catch my breath while paying my whole attention to the keeper. Keepers are the one who has the information of how many kills a hunter has in an hour. “None other than, Raffi of the Ambrose’s!” I saw my father fixing his hunter’s robe while wearing his huge smile. The whole tribe is excited especially the women of which gender I belong to. I started to walk to the wooden stage created by the tribe for this kind of ceremony. Everybody is happy and I hope this will last forever.

“You hesitate and it could cost you your life or the life of the hunters working with you.” I nod but I can’t focus on his words. I know the spiel. He’s said them over and over to me when he first started training me at five. By seven, he’d taken me on my first hunt. By 10, I’d killed my first wolf; a rogue that we’d tracked for weeks. We’d found him in a home, a woman dead beside him as he gorged on her flesh. It had been an easy choice…I hadn’t even winced when I pulled the trigger and ended the pitiful monster’s life.

As if bleeding before giving birth was an everyday thing for me. A new year has arrived, but old commitments remain: Hunter, with the second nomination for the Best Player award, wins more sponsors and consequently more parties, photoshoots and commercials, not that I don’t like to see him looking all hot in the photos showing the six-pack, but I feel terrible around him for not having the little perfect body that I had before.

Where’s the fun in that? “Look at him,” I muttered, grinning at the smoke still curling from his burned flesh. “Crawling through fire, bleeding for her like some tragic hero… and still breathing. Still fighting. It almost makes me want to clap. Almost. “Maitre, we found a few humans lurking around,” one of my hybrids reported, bowing low. Luca. His name was Luca , the gamma of some pitiful little pack clinging to their borders like children afraid of the dark.

And somewhere in these woods, men who are waiting. The service calls it “primal play.” A private land trust, thousands of acres of protected forest, catering to women with fantasies too wild for civilization. You book a solo camping trip. You set up in a designated area. And sometime during the night – could be early, could be late, could be just before dawn – they find you. The intake form was extensive. Hard limits. Soft limits. Physical condition. Experience level. Preferred intensity. I checked almost everything. Rough. Very rough. Multiple partners. Outdoor exposure. Primal chase. Breeding.

If he had been smiling i would have known for certain that he knew what Priam was here for, but since he’s decided to act like he doesn’t and get it out of me instead, i tell him, “Priam is here for his mate.” The look on Hunter’s face is borderline shocked and i see how much effort he puts into not showing an overly expressive reaction. His voice is less clear when he tells me,. “Excuse me?” And in response to that i nod to him, making sure to maintain eye contact as i repeat myself, “The goddess has given Priam a second chance, and that second chance mate is being held captive in your pack. I give him a scathing look and glance pointedly at the masked figure still seated in the midst of c

The Hunter shrieked, its humanoid form flickering, core unstable, energy surging unpredictably. We pressed forward, every strike coordinated, every movement a dance of survival and fury. My wolf surged, claws ripping, teeth sinking, energy spiraling outward in a living weapon. The Hunter’s core pulsed violently, splitting into multiple fragments, each one more powerful than before. It’s adapting faster than we can fight! Azrael shouted. We focused on the largest fragment, the core. Energy surged, claws striking, bond flaring. Each hit caused sparks to erupt, sending debris flying. The forest trembled under the sheer force.

Through the break stepped a figure that made every instinct scream "run." It looked human at first glance. Male, tall, dressed in armor that seemed to be made of compressed starlight. But its eyes... its eyes were voids. Empty spaces in reality that hurt to perceive. "Phoenix," it said, voice like grinding stone. "Storm. Merged." It tilted its head, studying us with those terrible non-eyes. "Impossible. Forbidden. The mixing of primordial forces." "Who are you?" Derek demanded, pulling me behind him. "I am Hunter Prime. First of the First. Keeper of the Old Laws." It took a step forward, and reality rippled around it. "You have committed the ultimate violation. Phoenix and Storm were never m

Claire interrupted, “What exactly is a Hunter?” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “A hunter is a type of human who was or is a Mythical bounty hunter. They have enhanced skills; fighting abilities, enhanced senses. I think one or both of your parents were Hunters. Especially after seeing you in action. Haven’t you ever wondered how you could fight and keep up with the wolves and vampires in your coven and pack? Love, you ARE A HUNTER.”