The Werewolf Hunter Novels & Stories

“ Yes he is my father. He died a few years ago though so unfortunately for you, you won’t be able to take your revenge on him.” Another man said, “ If your a Hunter what the fuck are you doing here??” Many people were looking at me either wary or curious of my answer, but they all looked ready for a fight. “ Yes I’m half Hunter but my mother was a werewolf of Beta descent. Her blood is what makes me one of you.”

“Are you a vampire, too?” I snorted, though my lips curled in disgust. “No, I’m not. I’m a hunter, Ver. I hunt supernatural creatures, monsters, anything that goes bump in the night, to keep humans safe.” “Monsters like me, you mean,” she whispered, fixing her eyes on the muddy ground.

It was going to be our largest battle yet, and my body was bubbling with excitement, ready for it – ready to win this war and finally put an end to werewolves. We’ve spent the last couple of months planning and recruiting as many hunters as we could to ensure that we get a landslide victory and finally bring down Moon Howlers’ pack, a pack that has been tormenting my sleep for nine years now. A pack that took away the only man I had in my life—my father. I could still remember his death as if it were just yesterday. It was me and him in our little home having dinner when the pack of wolves ambushed us, with their alpha, Alexander Pierce – a name that I will never forget – ripping my dad’s sk

“It sucks to smell your own scorched flesh. At such moments, you can think about the meaning of life. Alud chuckled. For a while nothing happened, an eternity reflected in a few seconds for the werewolf. Thick greenish smoke rose from under the tank. The trash can moved slightly. Resounding blows, the tank flew off sharply, finally losing its shape, slamming into a corner. Garbage outlined the path of the cistern. The green smoke dissipated, the Hunter stood all crumpled, his whole body was covered with lacerated wounds, the floor of his face was dissected. All these wounds instantly healed right before our eyes, leaving no trace, only the clothes suffered in places where the flesh was once

“You brought a werewolf?! HOW DARE YOU ALEISTER!” “A werewolf? What?! Aleister, is she a werewolf?” Hunter approached them and tried to make excuses. “Haha! What? A werewolf? Is there—” Even before he could finish, Aleister’s father stopped him. “Stay out from this Hunter!” “Yes sir,” Hunter said helplessly. He looked at Aleister with a worried face. “Aleister! Explain this to us!” “Aleister, dear why—”

I had forgotten about my role as my father’s heir and my duty to my people. “The hunter stories are not just stories spread by rumor peddlers. They are as real as you and I are. They are as real as the flames of this fire. Lots of werewolf packs in the east have been completely obliterated by these hunters. They are skilled and fierce, armed with silver to the teeth, out to kill...” There were whispers in the crowd. I looked around and thanked the heavens that there were no children.

Silver moonlight pierced through the ancient oaks of Hampstead Heath, casting long shadows across my face as I tracked the hunters' movements. My newfound werewolf senses picked up their acrid scent - gun oil and silver, a deadly combination that made my stomach churn. Three months ago, I'd been nothing more than a corporate executive nursing a broken heart. Now, I stood at the edge of a centuries-old clearing, helping coordinate the defense of a werewolf pack against trained killers.

she hissed, her amber eyes glowing, burning “You have nothing here. You’re a murderer.” The floor seemed to drop beneath me. My stomach twisted violently. “No,” I choked, shaking my head. “I-I didn’t know. They never told me who-” Hessa’s laugh was bitter, sharp. “You didn’t care to know. You’re an assassin of Cross. Don’t pretend you’re blind. You were trained to kill us. You are a Hunter. And hunters are what werewolves hate the most.” Hunter. The name I’d heard whispered in stories, savior of humankind, they said. Killers of supernaturals…

“I can smell them!” Hugo pulled his lips back, hissing. The man's teeth turned sharp and pointed like shark teeth. He didn't have the two special fangs that vampires or shifters used to have, but Aryadi had known for too long that they were more poisonous than any other fangs. The Cursed suddenly darted towards the back door. Burhan gasped for a split second before darting after the holy blood hunter. Aryadi followed Barbara's adoptive father by turning into a black wolf in one jump. Burhan sped up his run until he hit Hugo and sent them both to the side of the road. Aryadi growled and lunged at them, using that moment to grab and drag Hugo's feet into the forest, avoiding the attention of o

The vampire that killed Ethan blurted out but his calm expression was broken into one of fear. “You are the vampire that hunts vampires!” This realization forced him to immediately try and retreat but that was not possible because the only thing that left that position was his body, not his head. The difference in their ability was that vast as he had been decapitated before he even realized that he was without a head. “Vampire hunter? That’s vulgar. Please, call me Liam,” The man said to the head in his hand.