The Night Hunting (Rite World – Night Wolves #3) Read Online Juliana Haygert

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Rite World - Night Wolves Series by Juliana Haygert

Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)

I don’t have my memories, but I know in my heart, I seek revenge.
I awoke in a demon’s house with no recollection of who I am. I’m certain I belong to someone… although who, I’m unsure.
While waiting to remember my past, I train in demon magic, preparing for a fight I’m not sure I should be involved in.
I’m sent on a mission to steal the magic of the most powerful supernatural alive, but on the way, I run into someone I’m certain I’ve met before. The pull I have toward Shane is the strongest feeling I’ve ever had, and with all the lies swarming around me, I don’t know who I can trust.
The only thing I’m certain of is once I know who I am, there’s going to be hell to pay. And the villain who ruined my life will never see it coming.




I hated this feeling, that I was walking down a foggy street and couldn’t see the way to go. That was me every second of every day since I woke up five days ago, my memory gone.

I stared at the large painting above the fireplace—a two feet tall slit in the wall that extended ten feet. The painting, a modern-style watercolor, depicted beautiful black wings, the feathers floating to the ground.

I should remember this place, this painting.

“There you are.”

I spun, looking at the young woman walking in the living room. “Hey,” I said, turning back to the painting.

Ivy stopped by my side, staring at the painting with me. I gave her a quick side glance. Ivy was pretty. She had long, light brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, fair skin, some freckles on her nose. She was lean and supple, like a ballerina, and an inch or so shorter than me.

She was always dressed up—everyone in this house was—and tonight was no different. She wore a beautiful dark-blue dress that came down to her heels, a slit revealing her left leg. The bodice hugged her tiny waist and large breasts. Elegant, yet sexy.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

I nodded. There were many paintings around this house, most of them colorful abstracts, but this one had bothered me in a way I couldn’t explain since I first woke up.

“Why this painting?” I asked, surprised at my words.

Ivy shrugged. “I don’t have an answer. I think that when I saw this painting, it reminded me of the battle between the underworld and heaven. Not all demons are bad, not all angels are good. We’re not defined by our species or our environment. We can be more. And this painting, of the wings of a fallen angel, seemed like it belonged in a demon’s home, don’t you think?”

I glanced at her. “Were you always this philosophical?”

Once upon a time, that would have been a rhetorical question, but as it was, I really didn’t know.

I had woken up five days before in a strange bed, in a strange bedroom, with two strange people watching over me. Then two more strange people rushed in the room, and everyone rejoiced I had recovered from the attack.

Until they realized I didn’t remember anything.

Well, I remembered a few things. My name, my age, my birthday, that my eyes were blue, that I was half-demon and half-wolf shifter. I remembered that a supernatural world existed, and it was hidden from the human world. I remembered how to walk, how to brush my teeth, how to use silverware, how to write, but I had no recollection of this house, of this woman standing beside me, of my past. Memory seemed to be funny like that.

Ivy smiled at me. “Sometimes I have a bout of inspiration.” She pouted her lips and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

I smiled back at her.

This young woman, who was a year older than I was, was said to be my best friend.

And my sister.

My half sister.

Even though I liked her company and she made me laugh more often than not, I had no lingering feelings for her. Nothing that told me how close we were, how much I loved her. There was a huge hole in my chest that would be challenging to fill until I recovered my memories.

If that ever happened.

She offered me her arm. “Come on. We’ve been away from the party for too long.”

I hooked my arm on hers. “It’s not a party.”

“Potato, potato.”

I chuckled as Ivy steered us away from the living room. We crossed the large hallway that cut through the center of the mansion and walked to the far back, where a sunroom opened to a large porch and outside pool.

I inhaled as we crossed the threshold to the porch, enjoying the fresh air and the day’s warmth. It was nighttime, but the weather in Vancouver—just outside the city—seemed pretty good for July.

I tensed when I saw the five men standing at the edge of the porch, wearing suits and holding champagne flutes in their hands.