Dark Cravings (Hunters of the Church #1) Read Online Joel Abernathy

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hunters of the Church Series by Joel Abernathy

Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 116564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)

The hunter will become the hunted…
I’m a monster. I’ve done things that can’t be undone. Things that can never be forgiven.
When I saw him, I thought he was an avenging angel who had come to punish my sins.
Instead, he captured me and brought me into his world of saints and hunters. Righteous predators who prey on monsters like me, using the power of the cursed blood that runs through our veins.
I’ll do whatever it takes to become one of them. I’ll give him my blood, my body, and my soul. Whatever it takes to prove to Castor that I can be more than the bloodthirsty beasts he hunts, and stand at his side as his partner.
Even if I want to be so much more than that.
When my sire comes to collect what’s his, everything I thought I knew about my monstrous nature is called into question. But it might just explain the dark cravings Castor’s touch awakens within me.

Author’s Note: Dark Cravings is the first book in Hunters of the Church, a Dark MM Paranormal Romance series. Each book follows a different couple, but the series should be read in order. Please see the author’s website for content notes.





How long had I been in this form?

I didn't know. Time itself seemed to be a concept that had lost all meaning. Maybe I had always been this way—this hungry, prowling thing that knew no mercy or reason. All I knew was that for the first time in my limited memory, the hunter had become the prey.

He was human. He shouldn't have been this fast, or this strong. Somehow, he had made contact with that strange silver blade, and although the wound on my side wasn't deep, it wasn't healing as quickly as it should have been.

It was rare enough that a human managed to wound me when fighting back, but it always healed, almost instantly.

The pavement ran out, leaving only a bit of it stretching out in the alley before me, and I could hear the hunter's footsteps, swift and closer than should have been possible. In a split second decision, I leapt up and my claws caught on the side of the brick building in front of me, barely gaining enough purchase that I could pull myself up to scale the rest of the building all the way onto the rooftop.

The building wasn't tall in comparison to the skyscrapers that dotted the city, stretching into the sky like great trees. It was, however, too difficult for a human to climb, and it would take at least a few seconds for him to find and climb the fire escape. Seconds I could use to recover, because while the wound wasn't deep, I had felt strange ever since I’d been cut. Strange and heavy, like a machine with sludge in the gears, slowly grinding to a halt.

The sound of metal hitting brick jolted me from my brief moment of rest, and I saw a grappling hook appear on the ledge of the rooftop. Seconds later, the hunter sailed over the ledge and hit the concrete in a crouched position, the blade still in his right hand.


I turned to run, hoping my bipedal form was strong and agile enough to clear the distance between this building and the next. Before I could make it even halfway across the rooftop, I heard gunshots and three rounds were fired directly into my back. One hit my spine and the other two near either shoulder blade. I hit the ground with a heavy thud face-first.

My body twitched, prone and unresponsive to my demands for it to claw its way back onto its feet and fight.

A strange numbness spread out from the three points where the bullets had made contact, similar to the wound in my side. The sensation amplified, and all I could do was claw uselessly at the pavement as I heard the steady encroach of footsteps sticking in the blood trail I'd left behind.

Thap. Thap. Thap.

This was it. I was going to die. Maybe it was whatever poison the hunters’ blood and bullets were laced with, but I didn't feel panic—only a strange sense of resignation. Peace, almost.

My life didn't flash before my eyes, but pieces of it did. They were the only memories that were accessible to me, jumbled and gray though they were.

Two men and one woman, all smiling and laughing. Such familiar, intimate tones and sounds. Stakes hammered into the ground. The smell of meat on an open fire. The sound of water trickling in the distance. A low growl cutting through the laughter like a knife. The rumbling came from inside my own chest.

Blood. The sickly sweet, acrid taste of it, and the metallic scent. It was more than just taste and smell. The blood encompassed every sense, bathing them all in red. Every pore, every strand of fur, every thought in my frenzied mind.