Hunter: VII Knights MC

  A Twisted Fairy Tale

  HUNTER

  VII Knights MC

  Sapphire Knight

  Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling Author

  Copyright 2022 Sapphire Knight

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations, or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing

  Book Design by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover Design by Tall Story

  Cover Image Copyright 2022

  All Rights Reserved

  Warning

  Warning: This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 17 and older due to steamy, sexy, and hotness that will have you jumping your man. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law. Stealing this book makes you a thieving prick, and I hope your tits fall off.

  This book is fiction.

  The guys are over-the-top alphas.

  My men and women are nuts.

  This isn’t real.

  Don’t steal my shit, I have bills too.

  Read for enjoyment.

  This isn’t your momma’s cookbook.

  Easily offended people shouldn’t read this.

  Don’t be a dick.

  Blurb

  Beauty and betrayal…

  Lust and deception…

  I’m no prince, and this is no fairy tale.

  The nomad life calls to me, as does the drive to hunt a dark soul. With my brothers in tow, on a mission we go.

  Deep in the forest, a light shines bright. On the brink of death, my heart strikes. Behold, a beauty so great, she’s destined to be my mate.

  Sinful and sweet, she’s such a treat. When it comes to stealing her heart, I’ll never retreat.

  Dedication

  Those of us who love fairy tales

  but prefer them a little twisted and a lot spicy.

  Table of Contents

  Warning

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  Other Books by Sapphire Knight

  Strawberry Cream Cake

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “Well, hello there, snoozing beauty,” I tease, wanting to set her mind at ease. She’s in a new place with a man she doesn’t know. The last thing I need is the chick flipping her shit and screaming my house down.

  She blushes, dipping her head to hide her rosy cheeks in her cornflower-colored locks. She must’ve been warm while sleeping. The pink on them suits her—such a complimentary flush.

  “Why snoozing beauty?” she asks with a laugh, and I crack a grin, unable to hold back my fondness of her sweetness. She’s kept the remnants of the light blue dress on, the one I found her in, regardless of me offering her some of my clothes. They’d swallow her up, no doubt, but I’d bet she could make anything look proper. I’m a little shocked at her forgoing the new, clean choice, considering hers is in tatters and weaved with some sort of plant. It has to be scratchy and uncomfortable, but you’d never know it by looking at her young face.

  “Because you’ve slept so long since I found you. I was worried and checked on you, but I think your body was overly exhausted and needed the rest.”

  “I remember being in the woods, and there was someone there with me. Three others, I believe. One of them was busy worrying over keeping me safe, and the next… well, I don’t remember anything afterward. It’s all so strangely foggy, with everything mixed up like a dream.” She frowns, her irises growing worried. Her small hands fist at her sides as she inhales deeply. With an exhale, she releases her grip and takes another step toward me.

  My brow wrinkles at her confession, attempting to understand what it could possibly mean, yet I can’t. Was she running from something? I found her alone, no others around her. Were they really attempting to keep her safe? And why her?

  “I woke up with your mouth on mine…” she trails off as a new flush spreads down her throat.

  Christ, she’s adorably innocent and has every protective instinct in me rearing to the surface. I lick my lips, imagining her taste on my tongue if I was to sample the perfectly tanned flesh of her neck. She has no idea of the predator in her midst, and it sends a beat of triumph to my inner beast.

  “You’d stopped breathing. I was, well, I was worried you’d die,” I say plainly, not pausing to consider how my words may affect her. The only thing on my mind at that very moment was making sure she was breathing and moved to safety.

  “You were breathing air into me,” she states, almost making it sound like a question. Her naiveté is endearing and only entices me further. Everything about this woman screams for me to claim and keep her, but why?

  “Yeah, I started CPR. Thankfully, it worked, and you began breathing strongly again. It sounds odd being that we’ve only just met, but something about losing you sends a strong pang to my chest,” I roughly admit and rub the spot above my heart. Pang is an understatement. When I thought she was dying, it felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. Never have I experienced something so crippling in nature, especially since I don’t know the young woman.

  I continue, “One of the guys recognized some of your symptoms. You were in the middle of a serious allergic reaction. Thankfully, he had an EpiPen and let me have it. I was shocked with how quickly it took effect.” And grateful because I had no clue what the hell was wrong with her. She’s a beautiful enigma, one I want to figure out but probably shouldn’t.

  “Thank you for whatever you did to help me.” She offers a genuine smile. The fairness of her milky flesh and regality of her features are like no other, the only name that suits her is Sleeping Beauty. “What should I call you?”

  “Trust me, it was my pleasure. I’m Philip, but my friends call me Hunter. Whatever you prefer.” Putting my lips to hers was no difficult feat. I’d gladly do it again to see those enrapturing irises gaze at me full of gratitude. In my opinion, the sooner, the better.

  “My name is Aura. Will you tell me about finding me?”

  I tip my h
ead, drinking from my strong black coffee laced with a splash of bourbon. I lift my glass and gesture, “Would you like some coffee?”

  She shakes her head. “Only to remember.”

  “All right then. Come sit, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Chapter One

  HUNTER

  “You with me, Hunter?” Viking asks after the others easily pledge their support for his mission.

  “Of course,” I rebuke. We’re brothers, I’ll always have their backs when they need me, and this ride is no different. My loyalty is theirs, as is my knife, should they ever require it. My fingers rub over my leather’s cut. This MC is my life, and I’d be lost if I didn’t have their friendship and support.

  “So we’re headed to an island,” I rehash. “Have you discovered any more information about it yet? Has your mermaid finally found her tongue?”

  He shakes his head at my flippant comment about his woman not speaking when he came across her. “There’s a bit of dense forest on parts of the island. Keep your wits about you, we don’t know what we’re stepping into. We’ll split up but not too far away from each other so we can get help if needed.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I easily agree and strap on my long bowie knife. My gun is next, along with my bulletproof vest. I neatly fold my cut, gazing at it fondly before setting it down with a promise to return to it. There’s no telling what we’ll find, and I don’t want anyone to be able to identify me if something unsavory goes down. I have a dark feeling about what we’re about to walk into.

  Leaving the comfort of the clubhouse, we climb on our motorcycles. The ground vibrates with the thunder of our engines as we head for the docks. We’ll be taking a sketchy route out to the island. Before I ride across any sand, I’ll be trading my beast for a Jeep that a buddy of mine offered to let me borrow. He’s grabbing the other shit I requested as well. When I called to let him know I’d be in the area, he was more than happy to help and more so when I offered to compensate him for it. Being a bounty hunter, I’ve met many people in random spots, and over the years, some of them have become useful.

  The poor woman Viking found, well, she deserves to be avenged—every woman treated poorly deserves her very own savior. We just so happen to wear a leather vest and ride a motorcycle, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be our wicked version of heroes if needed.

  The ride is swift, the club moving with one purpose in mind. Vengeance. We’ll never allow such evil to exist as long as we’re breathing. I lower my kickstand, climbing free from the white beast of a bike. My knife rests heavily against my side and brings a sense of comfort. I like to call it my truth seeker since it hasn’t let me down yet.

  I quickly grab for anything I may need out of my saddlebags and fix the straps on the bulletproof vest. Once I’ve checked out the gear in the back of the Jeep and arranged everything how I want it, I hop into the driver’s seat. My knife stays on me at all times. I also keep a handgun in the cubby next to the gear shift for easy access and a shotgun resting beside me on the center console. The few other Nomads I normally ride with load up into the Jeep with me, weapons at the ready.

  We wait for the signal from Viking, and once he’s set, we take off. The ride to the island is sketchy as fuck but doesn’t take long, thankfully. Not that I’d back down or anything, I live for this shit—for the hunt.

  I veer off toward the right. I won’t stray too far from the pack, but this direction has a bigger clearing, and besides, I work better with just a few guys versus a cluster. “Watch our six,” I mutter to Charmer, though it’s unnecessary. Diablo, Briar, Charmer, and I have worked together long enough, our roles have become more habitual than anything, and we tend to revert to our designated jobs in sketchy situations.

  “I’m not seeing anyone on this side, not even a lookout,” Briar comments as he stands in the back, holding onto the Jeep with one hand and a pair of binoculars with the other.

  “All clear back here,” Charmer calls in return.

  “Not a fucking thing here either,” Diablo notes, wearing a scowl. His lips are always turned down into a brooding frown. “Malevolent is probably seeing more action watching our bikes than we are out here in bum fuck Egypt.”

  Charmer snickers, Briar remains vigilant, and I snort. I’m not arguing with the guy, he’s probably right. We can usually peg a situation quickly. It’s probably what makes us so good at being bounty hunters. “I wonder if it’s this quiet on Viking’s side of the island?” I murmur as the trail grows remarkably tight. We’re battered with thick brush reaching for our flesh inside the Jeep’s open doors for a time before I call it and stop the Jeep. “Jesus, I wasn’t expecting the area to be so dense. It’s a goddamn forest! I guess we’re on foot from here, boys. Climb out through the top.”

  “I knew I wore comfortable shoes for a reason.” Charmer points to his shiny black boots with one hell of a rubber sole.

  “More tennis shoe than boot, fucking pretty boy,” Diablo ribs.

  “Don’t get pissed, big guy, ‘cause your boots are shitkickers and squeeze your fat toes. Maybe you should consider my fashion sense next time.”

  Diablo growls in response, causing us all to chuckle.

  “Okay, fuckers, get serious,” I order, and we go into stealth mode. You’d never know we were coming unless we wanted you to. We go about exploring quietly. I know they’re still around me because we’re in tune with each other’s sounds. We’ve spent too many years working together not to be able to sense the other.

  “Definitely people around here,” Briar mentions after a while. “I’d say under ten, regularly. Maybe five or so. Probably more over time.”

  I nod, having picked up on similar clues. Charmer and Diablo close in around us, divulging, “There’s something over here. A small structure of some kind.”

  “A house?” I clarify.

  Charmer shrugs. “Not sure, it reminded me of an oversized burrow built into the side of a rock. It’s camouflaged well… you wouldn’t notice it if you were walking by and not paying careful attention.”

  “Fuck!” Diablo sighs. “There better not be scorpions or some other crawly shit.” His big frame shudders, and my lips twitch in amusement. He’s a hefty mean fucker, but bugs creep his ass out.

  “Go with Charmer and check it out. We’ll vet this area to see if there’re any others,” I tell Diablo, and he heads off in the direction Charmer appeared from.

  I nod forward to Briar, and he moves in sync with me. “Check the trees,” I order quietly, keeping my gaze pegged around us for people and traps. We move about twenty feet into the thick forest before his strong grip lands on my bicep with a squeeze. Instantly, I halt in my tracks, meeting his gaze. He gestures with a chin lift and points.

  There’s a small foot and ankle in sight, but the rest of the owner is hidden behind a massive tree and brush. I catalog the foot—it’s dainty, probably a woman or young boy. The skin is pale and filthy. I sign, telling him I’m checking it out and to stay put. This is my business, so any upfront risks, I take them before these guys. I figure it’s more my responsibility than theirs. Besides, I’d never forgive myself if they were hurt on my watch.

  With careful, quiet steps, I creep to the moss-covered tree. I’m standing directly on the opposite side and work to quiet my breathing as well as relax my pounding heartbeat to be able to hear properly. I wait for a second, then another, and again, another. I can’t make out any sounds that aren’t my own, so I meet Briar’s gaze and sign to him that I think the person is dead on the other side.

  His gaze widens, but he holds fast, waiting for me to tell him differently. My guys know their willingness to take my directions could mean life or death for any of us, so they trust my orders. Eventually, I chance a look, checking for weapons, and I’m met with creamy skin and tattered clothing. It’s a woman, a young one in rags. Her light blue dress is ripped and tied in several places with vines of some sort. I’m guessing to hold it together on her fragile frame.

  I
make a noise, hoping to startle her into making a move but get no response. “Miss,” I whisper and wait. Still nothing. I watch her for the longest time and swear I don’t see her chest move. Carefully, I go the rest of the way around and move to touch her. She doesn’t look like she’s been dead long, her face and throat are littered with red and pink splotches. It’s strange. Could it be an island thing that I don’t know about? There’s no telling what’s on the other half of this place. Hopefully, Viking and the others aren’t walking into a trap of some sort.

  I kneel at her side, my fingers grazing her wrist. It’s warm, so I’m right about her not being dead long. I can’t catch a heartbeat, so I release her, sitting back to properly take her in. Surely, she can’t be dead if she’s so red and splotchy. Did she get stung by something that causes this reaction, then her death?

  I release a tense breath and move to stand, but there’s something about her making me question myself. Perhaps it’s her beauty? Her illusion of innocence? Who knows, but it draws me to try again, whatever it is.

  This time I reach for her throat, pushing my fingers to her skin with much more force. I calm my breathing, close my eyes, and concentrate.

  Shuffling through my thoughts and feelings, I finally weed out the movement coming from her flesh. There is a pulse. It’s faint, but it is there. Moving on autopilot, I adjust her body until she’s lying flat and tilt her head back. I wave Briar over and begin chest compressions. Depending on how long her body fights me, I may need to trade off with him.

  While I count in my head, going through my training to save her life, I can’t help but take her form in. She’s utterly breathtaking. I can only imagine what she must look like in her prime. I wonder what happened to her. There’s no telling—out here so far away from society, it could be anything. I push air into her over and over. Anyone else and I’d have given up at this point. My body burns, even though I work out for hours each day, and I find myself growing slack. Silently, I beg for any god or powerful being out there to give her another chance, to allow me to have a moment with her while she’s at her most vibrant.