Hate

by K. A Knight

  Fucking witches and their magic. Without it they are nothing…weaker than humans, and they know it. They rely on it, inspire fear and loyalty with it even as they present their hubris as their strength, but I know it and I don’t fear them. I have felt the touch of their magic and now the touch of my mate, and nothing or no one will entrap me again. She needs me, I need her.

  They will die for trying to get between us.

  I hear the stone behind me crack with the force of my determination and strength, giving the chains a little leeway. My bull snorts as they stop chanting for a moment, their energy permeating the air as they watch us strain to get to them. I throw my head back and roar, letting it shake the room, the force of it sending a gust of power towards them. They tumble to the floor like broken dolls as I feel the change come over my body, just like when Dawn needed it, only this time we are changing to full bull, the animal taking over completely. I feel myself become pushed to the back of his consciousness, I let him happen. He needs the bloodshed and violence more than me.

  When our head is lowered, I have nothing human left, and I let them see that in my red eyes. My horns seem to grow and reach for them, my hooves smashing into the stone floor and ringing out like a fighting bell. My bull is daring them to come closer, to hit us.

  They do.

  Magic is flung at me from all angles, but something strange happens...some of it bounces off. Some of it sinks into my fur and skin and muscle below, making us bellow in pain, but some of it seems to be repelled, hitting my fur and then rebounding back to the caster, striking them instead. I don’t have time to ponder that, because we are moving. They got sloppy with their casting, relying on their magic to take me down, and now they are close.

  Too close, within my range. It will be their deaths.

  I ram forward, impaling two on my horns, tossing my head around and ripping their insides. I feel their blood coating my head and face and my bull snorts and charges, tossing them aside. Ignoring their screams and the scent of their deaths on the air, we aim for the others. One of the smart ones backs away and starts throwing magic, but I use her sisters as a shield and it hits them. She yells and bangs on the door, trying to open it as we roar and rip our way through their masses.

  The cell lights up with their magic and the sound of screams. Blood, piss, and shit coat the air as they realise they willingly walked themselves into a trap with death. A beast, one that is carelessly shredding them to pieces.

  They don’t stand a chance. My bull snorts in pleasure as I split one of their stomachs open and they shriek and fall under my hooves. I smash one’s head, feeling it squelch under me. Pausing, chest heaving, and smoke curling from my nose, I look around at the bodies littering the cell. Some of them are trying to heal themselves, one of them is attempting to crawl to the door with no legs, and there is one still untouched. Her hands are still pressed to the door, her face against it as she sobs as if not looking at the monster, at me, will make me not real.

  “Please, please, no, please, oh great mother, hear my pleas. Protect me with your bright, guiding light,” she begs, her voice cracking and small, like a child.

  “Your prayers won’t save you,” I tell her, voice garbled, but she hears me.

  She whimpers, pressing closer to the door, repeating the prayer again and again, louder and louder as she hears me drawing closer. The chain stops me before I can reach her and my bull roars in anger, wanting her blood, wanting her cries of fear. She came here to hurt us, kill us, stop us from protecting our mate. She must die.

  “Oh, little witch…” I laugh, the sound like a roar and she whimpers, flattening herself against her only exit. “Come out and playyyyy.”

  “Our bright mother, darkness unbound, come upon me,” she cries.

  My bull recedes slightly, letting me change our mouth and face back so I can talk. “Little witch,” I rasp in a human voice, and she shivers like she fears that more than my animal, interesting. “Your great mother has deserted you. You are weak, shivering in terror. At least your coven went to death with pride, facing their fear while you whimper and hide. What would they think of you now?” I laugh, spreading my arms to encompass her dead people. Some are still sucking in stuttering breaths to try and stay alive.

  “Moo-ther, please, save me from this certain death,” she whispers.

  “Oh, bright mother,” I mock, stepping forward as far as I can to reach her, my arm outstretched and brushing her hood. “Save me!” I cry and then chuckle. “She didn’t save your coven, she didn’t even save your vile, fucking demented ancestors as I ripped through them and left them to choke on their blood.”

  She stops talking, breathing heavily now, and I sense her fear retreat slightly, morphing to anger. Ah, yes, that’s what we want. So I carry on, throwing out barbs at her people and she turns with a cry, her hand held outright, flinging the last of her magic at me as she steps forward. We watch as the bright blue and black orb hits my chest and then seems to melt into the floor. Her mouth flops open, her eyes wide as she watches me.

  “But how? That was death magic, I threw my own life into it...you couldn’t…”

  I don’t care how, only that she is close enough to reach now. Close enough to kill. I grab her as she screams for mercy and tear her in two, throwing the parts to the side, then I just stand there amongst the bloodshed and death and wait for my mate.

  My bull needs to let something else out now, something much, much stronger and much more deadly—lust. All that hate and blood lust is turning into pure desire, until our body flicks between animal and human as we roar in need for our mate.

  Dawn.

  I leave my house and the forest god there as I mount my motorcycle and pull from my drive, heading down a familiar road to the place I hate most on this Earth. I have tried so hard to gain my freedom, even though I’m their fucking pet, to have my own space and life...yet here I am, willingly riding back into their masses. To become their assassin, their servant, to do with whatever they want.

  For her, always for her.

  I can feel the madness clawing at the edge of my mind, brought by my need for her, my mate, and my lingering fear of going back. I haven’t stayed willingly in their presence since the night I lost everything, since I was forced to watch...no, I can’t go there. Not now, otherwise I’ll give into that madness and just go in there, kill all those fucking bastards, and rip Dawn away, which isn’t a bad plan apart from the fact we will be hunted for the rest of our lives.

  No, I can’t do that to her.

  She had a shitty enough human life with that piece of shit she killed and buried in the woods. She deserves a better second chance. I almost snort at that. A better second chance...with me? We both know I’m the craziest motherfucker out there, so close to losing it and giving into that blackness inside me like a poison, which seems to be out of control without her here to push it back and revel in it. She deserves better than me, I know that, but I’m not letting her go.

  If they have touched her, hurt her...my mind flashes black for a moment and I look down at my hands on the handlebars to see them leaking black mist. No, I push it away. I can’t afford to lose it, not here, not with her so close. I will have to play their game, the perfect little servant, and get close to her. Find her, protect her.

  She trusted me, gave her life to me...told me I would never be alone again.

  It’s time I prove neither will she. I’ll always come for her. She’s the reason I keep going instead of giving in, she is the reason I’m walking into the viper’s nest, willing to take any pain, any punishment or humiliation they deem worthy. She was right, we need each other.

  I need her.

  She keeps me sane—well, as sane as can be—and makes me want to fight. To keep living, to feel her with me. To feel her soul wrapped around me, her body entwined with mine. I ache with the need to touch her, the pull stronger than ever before. To hold her, fuck her, claim her, and make her mine.

  I didn’t have nearly enough time with
her to prove I can be more than a sour, angry brute, but someone she could care about...I daren’t say love. I don’t deserve it, nor do I have it to give. My heart is blackened and cold, but she helped it beat again and now I will never go back.

  What a fool I was, thinking I could resist her. She shook up my world and I miss the madness she brought. Her smiling face flashes through my mind as she squared up to me, toe to toe, unafraid even in my bitterness and hate. My mate is something, that’s for sure, and unlike the others I know she can survive whatever they throw at her, but what will she evolve into to survive it?

  I became this bitter, winged monster flying above the world but never touching it, held apart...my mate, Dawn...Vasculo, will she embrace the pain and let it fuel her or will she withdraw?

  I don’t want to find out, so I gun it, speeding up as I wind down the road through the forest that leads to the council and to her. My Harley purrs between my legs. It’s as close to flying as I can get without spreading my wings and taking to the sky, but they don’t appreciate it when I turn up like that. It usually ends with a lecture or a punishment, saying I’m flaunting the gifts I was given from my angel father and the horrible twistedness of my nature—not that they care when they use them for their own gain, but that’s something else altogether.

  I can feel Nos in the forest, there is a link between us now, connected from Dawn. It feels strange not to be alone in my head, but not unpleasant, but I will never tell that fucking tree hugger. He’s at least better than that snobby fucking dragon, who thinks he is better than all of us. He reminds me of everything I hate, those bastards who sit on the throne and give orders. I wanted to kill him, had come very close to doing so, sneaking up behind him when he hadn’t noticed, but Nos had stopped me. One simple word on his lips was a reminder.

  Dawn.

  Would she forgive me? I doubt it, since a mate is more than a choice. As much as I hate it, it’s fate. He is as much hers as I am, doesn’t mean I won’t try to kill the smug fucking bastard. My only consolation is that my wings are better. His look like fucking bat wings, while mine are soft and feathered. She seemed to enjoy them last time, my cock buried inside her as I wrapped them around her while we plummeted.

  I groan, shifting as I turn, trying to ignore my now hard cock. I really shouldn’t think of my mate’s pussy when driving. I might crash and then I would scratch up my bike. It took me years to save up enough to buy it and customise it how I wanted.

  I wonder if I could get Dawn one once this is all over, then she can ride beside me…no, I want her in front or behind me, wrapped around me, clinging to me as I speed across the world. Not alone anymore.

  I pull up to the gates and wait for them to open and let me in. They don’t for at least five minutes as I idle there, and I instantly know what kind of mood the council is in—a testing one. They are wondering what I want. I wasn’t called, so they are showing me their power by making me wait.

  Fucking bastards. I push back the darkness and madness, which is whispering for me to kill them all...not yet.

  Finally, the gate swings open, admitting me to the sprawling manner. I pull around the fountain and park my bike out front. A little rebellion, but I know it will annoy them, disrupting their splendour and outward show of money and power. Standing back, I lean against my bike, knowing if I head inside they will punish me. Instead, I must wait outside like a dog called home, and often for hours. Once they left me out here for a full day even after ringing me to come back for a briefing. The fuckers. I used the time to debate all the ways I could kill them, and when I got bored I started flying loops around their fountain and doing target practice. It’s safe to say they never made me wait that long again.

  They are quick for once, probably due to their curiosity of why I’m here. The door opens, and standing there is the council’s bitch. I stand tall and brush past him without a word, heading inside.

  “Stop!” he calls, but I’m done with formalities. They are testing my patience and I can feel myself itching to rain holy fucking madness down on them. They can rip my damn wings off again, see if I give a shit, the smug assholes.

  I barge through the marble reception area, ignoring the winding steps that lead upstairs, and instead head right to the waiting room. They won’t see me straightaway, but I’ll be damned if I sit there taking shit from that lackey. I head through the double doors and take a seat on the elaborate chesterfield sofas, purposely putting my dirty boots up on the spotless gold and glass coffee table between them.

  I snort at the paintings in the room, all depicting battles the council members have won. There is one in the middle opposite me of the moment they took down the angel operation—the angel who gave life to me. They show him in chains on the floor as they lord over him, with children hiding behind the council like they’re their saviours. Fuckers, they don’t see themselves for what they really are. Us children were taken from one life of servitude to another, at least with the angel we knew what he wanted and he cared for us. We were his holy children, his reason for living, the council? To them we are nothing but disposable blades, something they wish to squash and mould into their own personal killers and most did. They gave themselves over, acting as nothing more than an assassin, no emotions or regret. No dreams of the future, just a blade to be wielded. Not me, I made a deal with the devil to save the one I loved and look where it got me…

  Right under their boot and she’s dead. But now I have something else to live for, to fight for, and I’m back where I started, on a disadvantage under their boot. The only difference this time is that I’m smart enough to not let them know it. Or let them use it against me.

  The door opens to reveal Veyo. He takes in my boots and narrows his eyes in displeasure, but he knows to pick his battles with me. “We weren’t expecting you, fallen, they did not call.”

  I don’t reply and he stands taller.

  “If you wish to see them, you will have to wait, they are very busy people and do not come when called like you, dog,” he spits.

  I raise my eyebrow, my eyes undoubtedly melting into shadows as I try to rein in my anger. He huffs at my lack of response and turns his pompous ass around and leaves me there. Closing my eyes, I lean back and wait to be seen. I need to make them think I’m coming home, that I miss this place, and that I want to serve and be with my kind, but I can’t lay it on too thick or they will know I’m lying. It’s a fine balance between being an asshole and a servant.

  I let my mind drift as I wait, trying to sit still, but there’s that pull again, that one to Dawn. She’s close, I can feel her, and I want to storm through the corridors, demanding to see her and killing those in my way. My fists clench at my sides as I fight off the madness and need.

  Instead I sink into it, unable to resist as it wraps around me, drawn by where I am, my memories crowding my head, screams tugging at my consciousness. Mine and hers, and I roar and fight it, but it’s no use, it’s too strong, and without Dawn here I plunge into that pit, into the darkness...

  “Griff, run!” comes her scream as she’s dragged away from me, her human arms frail as she beats at their armour to try and get to me, her brown hair whipping in the air, out of place. I idly think she would hate that. I stand there, my arms held on either side as she’s dragged kicking and screaming down the aisle to be thrown before their seats.

  I follow behind her, rushing to her side. I push myself in front of her, my wings and arms spread wide, their golden chairs towering over me. “You promised! We have a deal!” I shout helplessly.

  I look to my brothers, those who were raised with me for help. I search their faces, all blending together where they stand shackled around the neck like pets. But there is nothing left of them, they are blank soldiers waiting for orders. I stare at the council with a plea, anger coating my voice. “We had a deal!” Is it not enough that they took and killed my father, now they want to kill my human mother? Grief flashes through me. I made a deal, they have to honour it! My life for hers, she w
ould be safe. I didn’t care if it would cost me, that I would be theirs to do with what they wanted. All my life I have been owned, hidden like a dirty secret, but behind closed doors...my human mother loved me.

  I was the only one kept with her, allowed to be raised as my father looked on, stoic and calm, but with us he was so much more—loving, caring, a family. Now that is all gone. She grips my back and cries for me to run, even now worried for me, her human body weak and not enough to stand before them.

  I see it in their eyes, in their faces as they watch me in disgust. They never intended to keep their end of the deal.

  “This is a lesson to those who think they can betray us, who are above the rules...this experiment, this abomination, pleads for a human, for us to save her because only we can, but she’s nothing. A sheep, her purpose fulfilled. We can’t condone what happened, but we will not turn our backs on these children, these fallen...we will take them and train them, give them a purpose, but that purpose does not need a family, a mother. You are an experiment, a weapon, that is all.” He watches me as he speaks, and I want to scream as my arms are taken by forces stronger than me and I’m dragged before the beings in the seats and my mother. She reaches for me, crying, her blue eyes filled with so much pain and grief. “They do not require love or a mother, do not let them fool you, they feel nothing...just another illusion to gain sympathy. It speaks of a deal, as if we would make a deal with such an atrocity. Today I will show you how we will keep those new soldiers in line, with pain!” Some of the crowd cheers, but I don’t look away from my mother’s eyes as I feel my wings lifted up straight, and something cold pressed against the joint where it meets my back. What will they do to me? To her...

  My eyes snap open, dragged from the memory at the sudden sound in the quiet. There is a fallen standing in the doorway, watching me, his eyes empty and dead. His wings are pulled in tight behind him, and he’s a sickish grey colour, his body not as strong as mine but lithe and thin. He’s taller though, he reminds me of those depictions of death in storybooks sheep love so much, even has the ugly fucking smile to cover it.