The Hunter Wants To Lay Low Novel Novels & Stories

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 dark out here is full of us, the hunter and me and whatever's left of the stupid thing we were doing in this ditch ninety seconds ago. I stop breathing. So does Noah. First smart thing he's done since he reached for that crossbow and mistook it for a solution to this problem. And I get it. Of course I fucking get it, because every cell I've got is screaming the same thing his are. I’m an apex Alpha, twenty years old, built to run at the thing in the dark, not lie in a ditch and let it walk past. The need to move is an actual live animal in my chest and I'm sitting on its head with a hunter's pulse hammering into my arm, trying to convince all three of us to keep playing dead.

Hunter had spent most of the celebration sitting quietly in one corner. A mountain of books surrounded him. His nose remained buried inside an ancient manuscript detailing ley lines. He was so focused that he barely noticed the celebration ending. I watched him scribble another note. Cross out a theory. Open another book. The poor man looked as though he hadn't slept. Finally, after Marcus and Pamela had finished receiving congratulations from everyone, Hunter closed his book with a sigh. He stood. Walked directly toward them. Then smiled. "Congratulations." Marcus hugged him immediately.

I had been taught that a wolfless Omega like myself was insignificant and even my voice was because the moon goddess wanted to hear me grunt my frustration. It was best I kept my questions to myself. I had no plans to upset him. Hunter fell back on the bed and after a while, I did the same, lying on my side and staring at him with fascinating eyes. "Hopefully," he turned to me and offered his sweet smile again, this time, it didn't reach his eyes. "Hopefully, it doesn't turn out bad."

"I should ask you the same question, Hunter Abraham. What's your attitude? Your family? And also your flock all this time against us–the human race? You guys have taken over almost 2/3 of the world and made humanity almost extinct." Hunter really didn't want to argue about it. They ride in silence. Hunter focused on the road before him until they arrived at Abraham's super luxurious and magnificent residence. When Hunter parked the car, he realized that Jonea had fallen asleep. The young man rushed for fear that Jonea was in a critical state. Hunter carried Jonea on his back. He rushed to the house and was greeted by two maids. They were both so surprised to see Hunter's clothes full of bloo

The hunters knew that they were getting close. They crept forward, their weapons at the ready, until they caught sight of Tate standing in a clearing, his massive form silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Without hesitation, the hunters opened fire, their silver bullets ripping through the air and striking Tate with deadly force. Tate came to realize at that moment that he had been on a bad path for so long and barely escaped from the hunters. He went back home to his brother, and Marcus gladly allowed him take back his place knowing that he really had changed.

The Blood Ridge Pack. I have read a lot about them from the Hunters’ library, but it isn’t the same thing as being near them. As being in the same room as them. Their energy…there is something about it that makes me halt in the middle of the space. “Get out of the way,” someone screams. I move just in time before I get run over by a drunk college kid in roller skates. His laughter travels down the hallway with him, and I move in that direction. Searching for something.

The snow that was still falling gentle drops now painted everywhere white with its white and cold flakes. Thyra took a few pictures of the street as there was no wolf in sight, enjoying the tranquility that enveloped everywhere as she enjoyed every bit of what she was seeing unbeknownst to her that the peaceful environment she and her family and other humans had ventured into was soon going to be a bloodied danger zone.

The sky was darkening as Hunter Jackson stood before the tall gates that separated him from the house of his past—a place that now felt like a stranger. The modern colonial home loomed with elegance in the center of a wide yard, its manicured gardens flawless and cold. Once, he had called this place home. But ever since he left with Shopia Joy, it had become a monument to everything he had thrown away. Hunter took a deep breath. His shirt was wrinkled, his pants faded. His once-polished leather shoes had lost their shine. Everything he owned vanished when Shopia left, and with her, so did his wealth.

It seemed desolate, as if Jeniece had never come back since that day. A rusted rack caught his attention, and upon it lay a pile of books, their covers worn and edges worn. He reached for one, its brittle pages crumbling in his hands, each page stained with the yellow hue of age. These books, ancient and forgotten, held secrets that had been hidden in plain sight, truths we had been blind to. Just as Hunter began to delve into the faded words, a shiver ran down his spine. He wasn't alone. Instinctively, he spun around, his whip slicing through the air with deadly speed. But before the whip could find its mark, it was caught mid-strike.