The Hunted Mate series
Hunted Mate
Monster reverse harem
“Five monsters. One willing prize. Zero mercy — and it was livestreamed.”
A true-crime livestreamer is claimed on-camera as the prize in a supernatural hunt — and decides she likes it. Explicit 18+ monster reverse harem.
Prelude
A Hunted Mate: Prequel Novella
“Five monsters. One willing prize. It was livestreamed.”
Find it on AmazonThey came for a prize. I was live on camera when they took me.
I’m Sloane Wilder. I built an empire filming the places that eat people, and I never once flinched. So when the lights died in that warehouse and five monsters stepped out of the dark to claim me? I ran. For about three steps.
An incubus with a silver tongue. A berserker who won’t stop until I’m swollen with him. A shadow that fills every space I’ve got. A gargoyle built to breed. A vampire who bonds me in blood. Forty-seven million people watched them ruin me — and watched me beg for more.
They think I’m missing. They think I’m dead. They think I’m a victim.
Cute. I’m home. I’m bonded. And the Culling has only got thirty days left.
Turn the page if you dare.
FreePrelude
Room Tone
“She records sixty seconds of silence. Something recorded her back.”
Read it freeThree weeks before the livestream that changes everything, something visits Sloane Wilder in her sleep.
She hosts a true-crime podcast with 1.8 million listeners and a reputation for never flinching. She has one superstition: at the end of every session she records sixty seconds of silence in an empty room. Room tone. She’s done it a hundred and eighty-six times.
On the hundred and eighty-seventh, she falls asleep at the desk.
And wakes standing barefoot in the warehouse where five women were hung twenty-two feet up in a building with no power — except the rot is gone, the light is gold, and there is exactly one viewer on her stream.
He calls himself Caspian. He has wings, three thousand years, and an answer to the question she has never once let into an episode. He knows what her mother’s pendant is. He knows what’s coming for her on the anniversary. And he refuses — absolutely, infuriatingly — to take a single thing she hasn’t asked for out loud.
There are four more of them standing at the edge of the light.
In the morning it’s just a dream. Her skin is clean. Her notes are nonsense.
Then she opens the recording, and at forty-seven seconds there’s a breath that isn’t hers.
Book One
Hunted on Livestream
“One girl. Five monsters. Zero trigger warnings.”
Find it on AmazonThey think I’m a victim. They think I’m dead. They’re wrong. I’m home.
My name is Sloane Wilder, and I built an empire on other people’s nightmares. One million subscribers. Zero trigger warnings. I went live in the warehouse where five women were skinned alive, dared the dark to answer — and it did. Five monsters. One prize. Thirty days of the hunt they call The Culling. And your favorite true-crime queen just got claimed on camera in front of fifty million people.
An incubus who feeds on my screams. A berserker built to breed. A shadow that wears my skin. A gargoyle carved from sin. A vampire who swears I’m his first. I should be running. Instead I’m learning to rip out hearts with my bare hands and smile while I do it.
They wanted a prize. They got a queen. Welcome to The Culling. Turn the page if you dare.
Interlude
Feral Threshold
“Run, little rabbit — your Queen was made to be hunted.”
Find it on AmazonI used to whisper about monsters into a microphone. Now I sleep with five of them.
I was Sloane Wilder — true-crime podcaster, professional skeptic, safe behind my mic. Then Lir’s fangs opened my throat at the altar and I rose as something the old world has no word for: Maker-Queen. Ascended. Void-bound. Claimed.
My vampire made me. My incubus wants me. My shadow-demon guards me. My necromancer would raise armies for me. And tonight, my berserker’s first rut has him tearing the safehouse apart to breed his Queen — feral, glowing-eyed, and utterly out of control.
He says run, little rabbit. So I run.
But the High Council’s executioners are already dropping through the roof, and a hunted girl only has 12% odds. Good thing I stopped being a girl the day I died.
Book Two
The Wolf's Claim
“They crowned her in blood. The rut was only the beginning.”
Find it on AmazonThey put a crown of blood on my head while the whole world watched me die. I woke up a queen — and the prey.
I used to hunt monsters with a microphone. Now five of them share my bed, and the first full moon since my ascension has turned my berserker into something that can’t tell worship from war. When the Council’s hunters scale the glass and I’m locked helpless beneath him, running isn’t a choice. It’s the only language his blood understands.
So we run. Warehouse to bunker, shadow to shadow, one step ahead of the silver and the sunfire. And every night the bond burns hotter — his strength, the vampire’s speed, the incubus’s hunger, all of it screaming through my veins. When the void itself pours into me to keep me alive, I stop being the thing they hunt.
I become the thing they should have feared all along.
Interlude
The Second Sun
“Five monsters would die for her. Only one of them knows what she’s carrying.”
Find it on AmazonSloane Wilder used to make a living narrating other women’s disappearances. Now there’s a Council kill order with her name on it, a dark-web bounty board that refreshes every hour, and sixty-one teams racing each other to collect.
She is the first Maker-Queen in the history of the monster world. She has five mates who would burn the planet to keep her breathing. And she has spent five weeks being moved between safehouses like cargo.
Then, in a house with no photographs in it, an incubus who has fed on her for weeks stops in the middle of everything and goes very, very still.
There is a second flame inside her.
Small. New. Impossible — something that has never existed in all the ages of the game, and every hunter on that board would tear the world open to take it.
Caspian knows. Now she knows.
The other four are down the hall, and Sloane has about four seconds to decide whether to tell them.
She doesn’t.
A novella set between The Wolf’s Claim and The Maker’s Heir. Best read after Book Two.
Book Three
The Maker’s Heir
“The reign of the Maker-Queen is over. The reign of the Maker’s Heir begins.”
Find it on AmazonShe died on a livestream and rose as something the monster world has no name for.
Now Sloane Wilder is carrying something rarer than a queen — and every predator on Earth wants it.
The Council that built the game she was hunted in has stopped trying to kill her. That was the good news. The bad news is what they want instead: her, intact, and the impossible child growing under her ribs. A child of all five of her monsters, and of the void itself.
Her mates will burn the world to keep them both breathing. But you can’t outrun a whole world that wants you whole — and you can’t outfight the thing that’s been waiting in the dark since before Sloane was born.
Because there’s a woman at the end of this. Ancient. Patient. Hollowed out by ten thousand years of the same power rising in Sloane right now. She wants the heir as a vessel to be reborn.
And she used to be exactly what Sloane is.
To save her family, her child, and herself, Sloane can’t just win. She has to become the one thing the world — and the dark — has never seen.
Adult fiction, 18+. Most titles are explicit, but not all — heat level is noted on each book at /books. Read the content warnings →