Prologue

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The wind in my hair,

the crunch of the leaves under my feet,

the metal bow in my hand. 

There is no better feeling that exists. 

The rush of adrenaline I get every time the head of an arrow pierces threw the heart of a wolf. 

Not any wolf. 

A werewolf. 

The feeling of guilt not existent when the arrow is ripped back out of the heart of the beast, the beast that I protect the human kind from, the beast that kills hundreds of innocent people on a full moon, the beast that destroy any chance of me living a normal life, a normal teenage life. 

I wake up, I eat breakfast, I go to school. But the difference between my day and a normal teenage girl's day is that I don't go home and start my homework or start watching a stupid tv show online. 

I go out hunting. 

A hunt for the creature. 

The creature that I am trained to kill. 

The hunt for a werewolf.


The Hunt - a.iWhere stories live. Discover now