Kill or Be Killed (The Eastern Werewolves Pack Book 1)

By zhensachiko All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Romance


A group of hunters had struck fear in Alpha Jaxon Creighton’s town. Determined to hunt them down, he crossed path with the woman he didn't expect to be the one he had been looking for his whole life. Zia Ashton was raised in a family solely earning their living through hunting werewolves and vampires. When humans coexisted with the supernatural species, there was only one rule applied; Kill or Be Killed.

Chapter 1: Zia

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

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

As she was taking a deep breath, she placed her forefinger on the trigger with her right eye was glancing through the scope. The cold night didn’t trouble her core interest. She moved her hunting rifle gradually to one 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 torment before it slumped against a tree—in its final breath.

Zia grinned, reloaded her hunting rifle and took another shot. This time it was making a beeline for the head of the wolf. Two empty shells dropped by her boots before a long wolf-whistle could be heard. Glancing through her scope once more, she saw her boyfriend, Brody, offered her a go-ahead before he hauled the dead wolf into a black body bag.

Twenty-five thousand dollar 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, as of now drove the truck closer with the goal that they could stack 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 only just place a decent word since she handles the rifle better than anything you do.”

The two men squabbled forward and backward before Zia smacked their heads.

“Guys, please. It’s getting colder at this point.” she feigned exacerbation.

Tossing a couple of more words to one another, Clay and Brody at long last figured out how to stack 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 only 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 was extremely heavy, yet that didn’t prevent her from guiding it toward the practice target with Joshua was watching her. When she shot the noteworthy score on the target, he grinned, looking pleased. From that point forward, he acquainted her with a broad range of weapons until the point that she was sixteen when she obtained her first kill.

A kill on a genuine and alive target. A wild wolf. Around then, Zia didn’t know the existence of a werewolf. In her eyes, both wild wolf and a werewolf were resembling each other. Joshua revealed to her that her objective was only a wild wolf meandering around a crumbling bungalow by the river. It was snowing vigorously that night. She was hidden under a cover made of snow with Joshua when she pointed and glanced through the scope. Her objective was too huge for a wild wolf.

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

She looked through her scope again as though she simply needed ensuring it was only a wild wolf. In any case, what sixteen years of age 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 practice that Joshua instructed her. She held her breath when she pulled the trigger. The wolf let out a boisterous yowl before it collapsed on the snow and inevitably died on the spot.

This night was no different than her first kill. Zia watched out of the window. Clay and Brody were talking on the front seats about their next targets. They had been in the hunt much longer than her. The two men were five years older than her. She met Brody through a mutual introduction. His dad was a hunter like Joshua and was on the hunt together until he passed on amid a chase alongside Zia’s twin sibling, Samuel. When she heard that story, Zia changed her mentality and resolved to hunt those werewolves to ensure no one else got killed.

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

She didn’t realize they were at that point 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 that they were willing to accomplish.

“You look exhausted.” her beau murmured 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 lived here with her family since his father died. Essentially, Brody was another individual from her family. Then again, she was dating him.

“Just tired,” she muttered.

“Get some hot shower, OK?” he said. “I’ll 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 with the goal that he could concentrate on the conversation with Zia.

She nodded, “Yeah, Brody and Clay are taking care of the rest now.” she advanced toward the stairs, “I will get tidy up.”

“Supper will be prepared in one hour!” Laura yelled as Zia went up.

When she was inside her room, she started to remove her hardware. She wore a vest, despite the fact that it would not spare her from getting mauled by a werewolf or vampire, at any rate, it would spare her from getting shot. She put down her hunting rifle in the glass cabinet. She had various hunting rifles. Every one of the bullets was produced using pure silvers. Zia never chased a vampire. As indicated by 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. At what point when might be her opportunity to kill one? She needed to keep on sharpening her aptitudes until the point that he would give her the green light to have her first kill on the vampire.

A young woman like her should have enjoyed life, get squandered in the club and ended up three towns over, but Zia had never experienced that benefits and she would not like to squander her time celebrating and slamming a few outsiders while she could hide in obscurity and killed the troublemakers. She started hunting when she was in secondary school and since then, she cherished the adrenaline in it. What’s more, she needed to ensure no other people would confront inevitable death in the hands of those supernatural creatures.

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

In a world where humans coexisted with vampires and werewolves, there was only one rule of survival applied; kill or be killed.

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