Kill or Be Killed (#1 Eastern Werewolves Pack Series)

WARNING: This book is an unedited, raw, and rough draft. There are going to be grammatical errors, punctuation mistakes, misspelling, missing words, and all sorts of mistakes. This is not the book for Grammar and Punctuation Expert/Police. DO NOT READ THIS BOOK if you are easily triggered by mistakes.

You’ve been warned. Read at your own risk.

These books are connected to each other. The chronological order of the series:

1 - The Alpha’s Mate (#1 Southern Werewolves Pack)

2 - Taken (#2 Southern Werewolves Pack)

3 - Kill or Be Killed (#1 Eastern Werewolves Pack)

4 - Claiming Her (#3 Southern Werewolves Pack)

5 - The Survivor (#2 Eastern Werewolves Pack)

6 - The Blind Bandit (#4 Southern Werewolves Pack)

7 - Our Family (#5 Southern Werewolves Pack Requested book)

She drew a deep breath and placed her finger on the trigger with her right eye glanced through the scope. The chill night didn’t disturb her interest. She shifted her hunting rifle gently to the left side after she spotted a sign of a brown wolf running in the woods. It was quick but not as quick as her silver bullet when she pulled the trigger. The wolf howled in agony before it collapsed against a tree and was living its final moment.

Zia grinned, reloaded her hunting rifle, and took another shot. This time, the bullet made a beeline for the head of the wolf. Two empty shells dropped by her boots before someone wolf-whistled to her. Glancing through her scope once more, she saw her boyfriend, Brody, offer her a go-ahead before he hauled the dead wolf into a black body bag.

Twenty-five thousand dollars worth of a dead wolf.

She used the zip line from her sniper’s nest to get to Brody’s position. Her older brother, Clay, drove the truck closer to load the dead wolf.

“Great kill, baby.” Brody kissed her lips.

“You owe me one thousand dollars,” she reminded him he lost his wager.

“Told you she could get the kill,” Clay laughed.

“Goodness, quiet down,” Brody grunted. “You put good words because she handles the rifle better than anything you do.”

The two men squabble back and forth. There was no need for their argument. They argued more than a married couple did. Sometimes, Zia imagined what it would be like if Clay and Brody got married. That thought alone sent her body into the deepest pit of fear.

“Guys, please. It’s getting colder at this point,” Zia feigned a yawn. “I’m tired.”

Tossing a few more words to one another, Clay and Brody at long last loaded the dead wolf at the back of the truck before they all left the place.

This had been her life—hunting and killing. The existence of supernatural species that her father, Joshua, had shown to her. He was not kidding when he disclosed to her about it, and she was five years of age around then. Zia still recalled the first occasion when she operated a weapon. Glock 21. She was seven when she held it. Obviously, with her small hands, the weapon weighed tons. Yet, that didn’t prevent her from pointing it toward the practice target with Joshua watching her. When she shot the highest score on the target, he grinned, looking pleased. From that point forward, he acquainted her with a broad range of weapons until the point she was sixteen, when she got her first kill.

A kill on a genuine and alive target. A wild wolf. Around then, Zia didn’t know how to differentiate a werewolf from a wild wolf. In her eyes, both a wild wolf and a werewolf had an uncanny resemblance. Joshua revealed that her target was the wild wolf wandering around an abandoned bungalow by the river. It was snowing vigorously that night. They hid underneath a snow tarp as she glanced through the scope. Her target was too huge for a wild wolf.

But, Zia was determined to please her father with another achievement.

“It’s just an animal, kiddo,” Joshua whispered. “Nothing else.”

She glanced through her scope again as though she needed to ensure it was a wild wolf. What sixteen years of age a young girl knew around then? She had killed a wide range of creatures. Yet, this was her first time seeing a wild wolf through her scope. Zia did the breathing ritual that Joshua taught her. She held her breath before she pulled the trigger. The wolf let out a boisterous howl before it collapsed on the snow and inevitably died on the spot.

Tonight did not differ from her first kill. Zia looked out of the window. Clay and Brody were talking on the front seats about their next targets. They had been on the hunt much longer than her. The two men were five years older than her. She met Brody through a mutual introduction between their families. His dad was a hunter like Joshua and was on the hunt together until he died amid a chase alongside Zia’s twin sibling, Samuel. Zia changed her mentality and resolved to hunt those werewolves to ensure no one else got killed when she heard the story.

“Are you coming, babe?” Brody asked, holding his hand out.

She didn’t realize they were already in the garage of her family’s home. She held onto his hand and hopped down from the truck while Clay was on the telephone about the dead wolf. It was routine; she said in her mind—nothing else. Every hunt was just a routine. A task they would accomplish.

“You look exhausted,” her boyfriend said as he checked the exhaustion plastered on her face.

Brody was a great-looking and strong man in his late twenties. His dark eyes were detaining her under his solid look. He had been living here with Zia’s family since his father died. Essentially, Brody was another member of her family. Then again, she was dating him.

“Just tired,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

They had been on the hunt for longer than intended tonight.

“Get some hot shower, okay?” he said. “I‘d be right up.”

Nodding, she went into the three-floor house. Her mother, Laura, was cooking in the kitchen with Joshua reading a daily paper. When she entered, their eyes fell on her.

“Hunt went well, kiddo?” Joshua asked, folding the daily paper to concentrate on the conversation with Zia.

Nothing else he would have asked other than the hunt. Not even asking how she was doing after the hunt.

She nodded. “Yeah, Brody and Clay are taking care of the rest now.” she advanced toward the stairs. “I’m going to clean up.”

“Supper is in one hour,” Laura yelled as Zia went up.

When she was inside her room, she removed her hardware. Although it would not spare her from getting mauled by a werewolf or vampire, she wore a vest. But it would spare her from getting shot. She put down her hunting rifle in the glass cabinet. She had various hunting rifles. Someone produced every bullet using pure silvers. Zia never chased a vampire.

According to Joshua, she was unprepared to confront a more grounded rival. Yet, she had realized she was more than prepared. Clay and Brody previously had their kills on vampires. When would it be her opportunity to kill one?

She needed to sharpen her skills until the point Joshua would give her the green light to have her first kill on the vampire.

Like her, a young woman should have enjoyed life, got wasted in the club, and ended up three towns over, but Zia had never experienced those privileges. She would not like to waste her time celebrating and humping a few outsiders while she could hide in obscurity and kill the troublemakers. She started to get involved in the business when she was in high school, and since then, she has cherished the adrenaline in it. Also, she needed to ensure no other people would confront inevitable death in the hands of those supernatural creatures.

After stripping down, she went to the restroom and turned on the hot shower before her body soaked in. The warmth of the water seeped into her cold body. Her eyelids became heavier as time passed by.

In a world where humans coexisted with vampires and werewolves, one rule of survival applied; Kill or Be Killed.