The Primal Hunter 9 Audiobook Novels & Stories

“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.

Any mistake on his part, and he would be dying here today! “Hey, descendant!” the Primogenitor who had managed to pull Chief Priest Kaka and Village Head Samoa out of the group just for herself called out to Pathfinder as he wondered how he would handle this situation. Hearing her voice, Pathfinder’s ears perked up subconsciously. While he was still paying attention to his opponents, he was also listening for his primogenitor’s advice. After all, if there was anyone who could give him good battle advice, it would be her. For it was she who was famed for her battle crazed states and battle obsessed hunts!

The specific quality of someone who has spent so long braced that unbrace feels unfamiliar and slightly miraculous. "Is it actually over?" he asks quietly. I think about Corvyn in a field going still. About Thalrion's hand finding mine in the grey mountain morning. About the ability burning white and precise and the silence that followed. "The hunting part? Yes." I look at him. "What comes after is different. Changing the laws. Finding the others still running." I pause. "That is not over. That is just starting." He nods slowly. "But we do it from here," he says. "Not from running."

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.

This was just a small thing–Primo had already been through the worst possible thing a human could experience, as a part of his training to become where he is right now. He ran through until he could no longer hear the shots. That must have meant, the shooter lost track of him–or better yet, he was dead. That was very unlikely, however, since he didn’t hear a gunshot. This time, Primo’s going to be the one to track the shooter. To think that the shooter easily found them earlier, Primo could only guess that the shooter must be up somewhere. “How long are we going to hide?” Primo’s loud voice spread through the forest, hoping it could reach the enemy. He was hiding behind the broad leaves of a

The scent of pine and damp earth filled his nostrils, mingling with the heady aroma of nature's raw vitality. His pursuit was singular, focused. The rogue wolf, a shadowy figure ahead, moved between the trees like a ghost, its movements fluid and instinctive. Noah's lips curled into a half-smile as he surged forward, his muscles flexing with every powerful stride. The thrill of the hunt ignited his senses, connecting him to his base primal instincts.

Well, at least he believed it, which was important for the next part. “Moira was running our normal route when the crystal warmed up and started guiding her. We found ourselves outside of a cave along the western wood trails. Her hearing is extra sensitive. There were two male voices, and one of them was the bastard who murdered my mother.” Then I launched into everything that was said. No word was left out because they were crucial. Theo’s expression was blank, giving nothing away, until the final word hung in the air. “I’m going to fucking kill her and anyone else who betrayed this pack,” he growled.

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 sweet sounds of wild birds were replaced by a horrible, mechanical grinding noise that vibrated through the trees. “Whirrrr. Crash.” “We are getting close,” Nova said, her silver eyes flashing as she jumped over a giant fallen log with easy, athletic grace. “The corporate hunters have set up their camp right on the edge of the First Sanctuary. Their drills are already cutting into the outer skin of the continent.”

- Aren't you ashamed to attack a lonely girl? Now I know who owns the voice. Casius in person. The hunters turned their attention to him. The Primordial did not waste time in vain and in a matter of seconds, with sharp, confident movements, he killed several people. The smile spoke of the obvious pleasure that he gets from what is happening. The next moment, three more fell to the ground. However, none of them managed to do anything. Taking advantage of the confusion and confusion of the enemy, she turned into a she-wolf. Pieces of clothing scattered in all directions. Heck! If I stay alive, how will I stomp around the city naked?