A hunter's routine is simple—train, hunt, harvest a shape-shifter of its valuables, eat, sleep, repeat.

Lycan shifters, Veniri shifters, Magneii shifters, you name it, if it shape-shifts, my family and I hunt it down. That was until the night a devastating hunting accident plunged my world into the unknown.

Those dearest to me—are long gone.
My self-assuredness—fractured.
My life-long dream—blasted to pieces.

Claiming kills and collecting luminescent blood samples from each shifter race is no longer what I desire. Dare I say the glory of it is starting to repulse me...

Who am I if not a hunter?