The Hunter Wants To Live Quietly Characters Novels & Stories

Harry said, amidst a mouthful. “Oh!” Was all Ana could utter again as she glanced at Hunter, who avoided her gaze. “Is that… right?” “Of course!” Benjamin chimed in, “Usually, Hunter is always the quiet guy who likes keeping to himself, no friends, no nothing… just his books… and school projects.” Hunter? The quiet guy? No friends? Keeping to himself? Is this a joke? Ana wondered to herself almost in amusement as she quickly glanced at Hunter out of the corner of her eyes, but his whole attention was on the food before him.

"So, tell me, Hunter, do you like to hunt?" The motherfucker still remained silent and swallowed. If he was scared, he should've known better than to make me provoke me. I smiled, and he shivered more. I must resemble a stray dog that's about to jump on passersby. "Oh, don't be flustered, I know you have some weird taste." I caressed his fingers and my eyes bored into him. "How does it feel? Exhilarating, right?" He didn't reply. Expected. "Tell me, Hunter, while hunting... do you ever feel hunted?" He sniffled, snot leaking down his chapped lips. I rolled my neck, groaning as the muscles popped. It had been a long fucking day.

Once he was calm, he sat at the edge of the bed. "Do your eyes hurt?" I asked quietly. He nodded. I was a whirlwind of emotions, but I forced myself to maintain a calm and gentle expression. 'He's a hunter. Those red veins belong to hunters,' my wolf whispered, her heart breaking. Hunters and pack werewolves were generally on good terms, but that didn't eliminate their instinctual desire to kill.

I pushed the door open. The room went quiet. Viana stood near the long table, her gaze fell on me when I walked in. Her expression was composed in a way that usually meant she was trying hard not to lose patience. And in the center of the room sat the hunter. He looked younger than expected. Not reckless young—but old enough to know how to keep his face still when people were looking for weakness. His clothes carried the dust of long roads and forest trails, his posture too relaxed for someone being questioned by the Alpha.

The hunter shrugged. “I’m very good at dangerous games.” Marcus stepped forward then, his posture rigid with restrained fury. “You’re not leaving this clearing alive.” The hunter’s smile didn’t falter. “That depends.” His eyes returned to me again. “On whether she cooperates.” My chest tightened. “What do you want from me?” His answer came simply. “Come with us.” Adrian’s growl shook the air. “Absolutely not.” The hunter sighed. “I figured you’d be difficult.” He gestured lightly toward the wolves surrounding us.

The hunters typically stayed in town where they would be more comfortable and at less risk of being attacked, but others decided to take the risk and challenge nature by setting up camp in the woods; those were the hunters Lucius was after, the proud ones. It did not take him too long to find one, and as luck would have it, he was alone. With a bald head and tattoos covering both his arms like sleeves, the hunter sat on a log beside his tent, wiping his gun with a cloth. Lucius despised the mere sight of him; in his hands wasn’t only what he was looking for, but also the object used to torment him and his people. Several wolves were dying by weapons like that; it was infuriating. Turning to

His teammates went deathly quiet beside him. Then! "Come out, come out, wherever you are," Malakor mocked sarcastically. "You smell like White Wolf all over! So why waste our time, huh?" The headlights from all the SUVs suddenly flipped on, illuminating only the first group. Hunter and Dan stood tall. Jake spoke first. "You have something we want." Malakor sneered. "Oh yeah? Things are so bad for you that you’ve degraded yourselves to stealing?" "It’s not stealing when it’s for survival," Hunter said.

I’m back home and I have some Duffs to drown my sorrow, I’m in deep shit, annoyed and worried with my little bunny, if some asshole put his paws on her, I don’t know what I’m capable of doing. Hunter waits for me on the porch, with a lemonade glass, he signs me to sit down and I know that nothing will keep me away from his inquire. This son of a gun should be a cop instead of a fighter. He doesn’t give up while he can’t get the answers he want. Less than five seconds and he shoots the first question, this time he broke his record: “Adam, you may be the alpha in this pack, but you’re still my brother, tell me the truth, what’s going on? Why those guys were trying to kill you?”

I exhaled slowly. “Fine.” The hunter nodded once. “Excellent.” Then he stepped forward. Close enough now that I could smell gunpowder and cold steel. Up close, he didn’t look like a monster. Just a man. A very dangerous one. “What’s your name?” I asked quietly. The hunter’s eyebrow lifted. “You wish to know the name of the man kidnapping you?” “I prefer to know who I’m making deals with.” He considered that. Then smiled slightly. “Next time,” he said.

the woman spoke as she kneeled in front of me. Her tone had changed to one of genuine, gentle concern, nothing like the previous mockery that laced her words when she spoke of the man I loved. I wanted to lash out, to tell her I heard everything they said so there was no point in playing the role. But, I didn’t… Hunters were skilled murderers, but they also weren’t that bright. Someone had to have something seriously wrong with them to agree to join the rows of hunters. Leaving families, comforts of homes and everything they had for the greater good of nothing, yeah - pointless.