The Hunter Wants To Lay Low Novel Novels & Stories

"Who're you?" "The Hunter," he responds as he tears the downside of her shirt to gain better view of the injury. "No. I mean...why're you killing your friends?" Sophia mutters. "Oh this guys? They're not my friends. They're bandits. I'm ex marine," The Hunter pulls out a white piece of cloth from the bag and puts it on the wound to maintain pressure. "I decided to live in a village after retirement and found out that different groups of bandits haunted the village. I got sick of it and decided to hunt them all down."

The girl abruptly paused, taken aback by his sudden unfiltered words. "W.. What do you-" "I said. Wanna f*ck?" Hunter asked in his deep baritone facing the girl as she blushed under his scrutiny. "Y... Yes," She whispered as Hunter pulled to his feet towering over her. "Let's go," He said to her. "F*cker," Lennox muttered under his breath smirking as he saw Hunter leaving with the flustered girl behind him. Lennox couldn't help but wonder why Hunter didn't want him to be near Violet. What was so special about her anyway?

Every stolen touch, every glance, every whispered joke in the midst of chaos made the danger sweeter, more urgent. Ahead, a dumpster and a stack of crates provided temporary cover. We crouched behind them, breathing hard, eyes scanning. The hunter moved past, unaware. My chest heaved, adrenaline coursing through me. Travis pressed close again, brushing his lips to my temple, whispering, “We’re good. For now. But not forever.” I felt the weight of his words, a subtle warning beneath the intimacy. The hunters were relentless, and the rumors of their weapon weren’t just whispers anymore—they were real, imminent.

The static in my veins, once a familiar storm, now writhes like a caged thing, repelled by the Worldseed's invasive pulse. The Hunter walks ahead, his crow-feather coat frayed at the edges, his grip tight on a revolver reloaded with shards of the Cradle's lightning. He hasn't spoken since we buried Eden. Grief suits him poorly; it makes him reckless. "We should've stayed at the oak," I say, breaking the silence that's grown teeth. He doesn't turn. "That tree's a grave. Graves attract scavengers."

And yet the hunter kept walking calmly through the smoke. Like he owned the building. We reached the end of the ruined corridor. The air smelled like gunpowder and burning metal. Broken glass crunched beneath our shoes. Bodies lay scattered along the walls. Guards. Spanish syndicate soldiers. Hunters. The aftermath of war. The hunter stepped over one of them without even looking down. “You did well back there,” he said suddenly. I frowned. “What?” “Offering yourself.” His voice sounded almost approving. “Most people panic.”

Some managed to go beyond that and make the human part speak louder, even in sex, but most didn't see the point in making that kind of effort, Hunter included, when the pleasure would be almost nil, until their fated mate arrived to wake up they true desires… It was a shame that, after 31 years of waiting for this moment, Hunter would have to spend the rest of his life as a celibate who was secretly burning with desire all the time. Not knowing whether he was more angry with himself or with the Valiant girl for making him feel this way, he roughly moved his sweatpants away from his skin, lying down on the mattress to begin rubbing his hard and aching cock between his fingers, with only flash

“Because I have all the necessary weapons to take them down.” “I don’t want to take anyone down I just want a faceoff with the old man.” “You will never get to the old man. What’s your obsession with him anyway?” Naveen questioned. Hunter looked at the photo of a girl on the table. “This time we are doing things my way,” Hunter looked at Naveen. “Well there is one thing.” “What is it?” “I know you have been looking for a manuscript.” Hunter's eyes glowed. “Yes,” he said.

Hunter knew all too well that every decision comes with its consequences. He made a deal with the Patels' to get rid of Ludo but he didn’t hold his end of the bargain. Despite this, Hunter was no man to be intimidated by the Patels. As a matter of fact, they were out of the picture for him because he had finally got what he sought after; the manuscript. As soon as he got home, he printed the whole manuscript out, took it with him into his carnage backyard and treated himself to some reading. He never remembered when he had read like that but he was determined to finish reading the whole story that very day.

The hushed whispers and studious atmosphere were a stark contrast to the chaos of my own thoughts. I scanned the shelves, searching for something that would capture my attention, something that could whisk me away into another world where desire and longing were nothing more than fictional characters' plights. But as I pulled book after book from their places, flipping through pages and absorbing words, none of them offered any solace. "Anything interesting in there?" I gasped and turned to face Hunter. "Dammit, Hunter. Are you stalking me?" "Kind of," he shrugged. "What do you want?" I asked.