Hate by K.A Knight

“How did you change your face?”

The voice stirs me awake. I can’t remember the last time I fell asleep in an enemy lair. I have just been resting, eyes open in case they came in, but with my mate wrapped up in my arms I must have drifted off.

Careless of me when I have such a treasure to protect. I will do better. Cracking my eyes open, I see my face is back to that of my animal, and the truth is I don’t know how I changed it. The chains and magic surrounding them should prevent me from doing so, but something about my mate’s plea, her hunger and need, pushed me to break through that, for just a moment, to be able to change my face for her. I can still feel her lingering touch, the brush of her petal soft lips against mine.

The ravenous way she devoured me, making me shiver.

“Your need, our bond broke through the magic,” is all I say, and she nods, accepting my answer without question. It makes me wonder what my mate is and what she knows of magic and witches and the rest of this world we are in. “It’s the chains, they trap me.”

She looks at them, head tilting to the side and eyes flashing black for a moment. I try to remember the supernaturals I have encountered who had black eyes, but I come up short. “What are you, Draya?”

“Skinwalker, I am told.” She huffs when I just continue to stare. “Short version, my ex-husband murdered me and left me for dead, then I pulled myself from the ground and woke up like this...able to change my face and body, super strong, super hearing.”

“Skinwalkers are rare...wait, ex-husband?” I almost roar.

She pats my chest. “Yeah, don’t worry, I killed and buried him.” I blink at her and she grins, making me huff out a laugh.

“You don’t talk a lot…” She trails off.

“Habit.” Her eyebrows raise so I force myself to carry on speaking, trying to break through years of conditioning. “My old queen,” I snarl, “didn’t want my conversation, she thought me nothing but an animal and as such I should act like one.”

Her eyes narrow, and jealousy flares through the mate bond for a moment, so I stroke her head, patting her awkwardly. “Not to fear, Draya, I killed her.” She settles a bit then.

“Queen?” she finally prompts.

“A false queen, a human who, with the help of witches, gained power. She married a king and became the leader. Under her reign, she entrapped many supernatural species and used them for horrible purposes such as entertainment and science.”

“You as well?” she queries, anger in her sensual voice.

“No, I was made. A result of magic and experiments. My whole race was made for her. To be the animal she craved, the minotaurs of the great maze sent to protect something that we didn’t even know...but when she saw me—” I grind my teeth and a soft hand lands on where my cheek would be and strokes. I look down into those eyes and soften, the words tumbling out. “When she saw me, she wanted me, and what the queen desired she took. I was taken from my people and made into her slave. One day I displeased her, so she threw me into the arena to fight for amusement. I won and became a famed fighter, so she had no choice but to share me with the people, fighting for their entertainment. Slaughtering many, some I would call friends. It changed me. I let my animal take over more and more, unable to stand it. One day we tried to escape and she took my shift away. All I am left with is this and my human form.”

“What was your other shift?” she inquires curiously, no fear or disgust in her voice even after what I just shared.

“Something beyond human imagination, something made of black magic and anger...but so strong.” I shake my head.

“How did you kill her?” Dawn asks, leaning closer again, comforting me even when I did not know I needed it.

“She thought she could tame me, was so sure of her witch pets’ control...she was wrong. She often brought me to her bed chamber, a punishment for me and her dying husband next door, who was forced to listen. She knew I hated her, hated touching her. I had no choice, she would often bring another of my kind and threaten them unless I did. I began to realise it was pointless, so I waited and watched, looking for her weakness.”

“What was it?”

“Me, the thing she feared most. The Beast of Cornacadia, the monster she created. She dreaded what she had made so she tried to keep me close, but in the end all it did was kill her. She had handed me my swords the day before, pried from the dead hands of a brother of mine, it was the turning point…”

Memories flash in my mind and suddenly Dawn is there, her hands on my face, head against mine. “I can see them,” she whispers. I try to pull away, but she holds me there. “You don’t have to talk, show me.”

Draya.” I cover her hands. “The memories are dark and ugly.”

“I can do dark and ugly. If you haven’t noticed, bull man, I thrive on it. Show me, let me see you, my minotaur.”

I search her eyes before closing my own and opening my mind to her. I fight the need to roar and pull away, old habits dying hard. I have to remind myself she wouldn’t hurt me, she is my mate, again and again. She must hear.

“Oh, my minotaur, I would never hurt you, I see your struggle.” Her voice is sad. “I promise you, on my life, I will never harm or betray you. I don’t know how I became this or what brought us together, but neither of us will ever be alone again.”

Her voice whispers through my head, calming my bull, a feat no other has ever managed. He curls around her, protecting her, loving her, and I know...this goddess was made for me. I may not be worthy of her, but I will strive to be. If what she wants is to see the darkest, most depraved parts of me, she can. I will split myself open and let the memories tumble out so she can bathe in them if that is what she wants.

“Beast,” the queen greets, turning from the mirror where her hair is being coiffed. With a wave, she dismisses the young witch helping her get ready. Tilting her chin up, she stands, her skirts moving around her like water, and strolls towards me, the crown on her head held there by magic. “I did not call you.”

“I am not an animal you can just call for,” I snarl, voice rumbling with my bull who is huffing and digging his hooves in my mind, wanting to be unleashed upon this woman.

“Oh, but you are.” She grins, still not seeing my true intent, her boldness and pride blinding her to the truth, the hate that her people feel for her. “You will always be mine, my beast, and when I die I will have you entombed with me. Serving me forever.” She trails her fingertip down my body, heading to my crotch, and I snap.

My bull comes to the forefront of my mind, forcing himself out. He has been chained long enough, and his hatred only rivals mine.

With a roar, I change, faster than she has ever seen. She is too close, too trusting that she had me controlled. Her pride and fear will be her downfall. My horns gouge her as I flick them, tossing my head about. She is thrown around like a ragdoll until she falls to the once white silk of her bed with a pained scream. The blood slowly leaks from her many wounds onto the mattress, staining the silk crimson. Before the witches can arrive and heal her, I take up my swords she keeps in here and cross them at her neck.

“I am no one’s pet. I am the Beast of Cornacadia, a legend. A myth. The monster of the labyrinth and yours no longer. History will not remember you. You will be nothing but a bad memory for me. All this power, and at the end you die alone and weak. Nothing but a pathetic human,” I growl, turning my face back to human so she can see the hate there.

I hear the witches coming, the incantations on their lips. I know what this will mean for me, but I’ll gladly take any punishment of death they offer, it is worth it to free me of this human monster. She holds a bloodied, weak hand up to me, eyes terrified and reeking of fear and her own mortality.

Humans are so breakable. She thought she was more than that, but it’s time I remind her where she belongs.

“My beast,” she pleads.

“Never yours,” I roar and slice, her head rolls from the bed and towards the door, eyes open wide, mouth parted on a silent cry. The runes on my swords flash, covered in the queen’s blood as I let out a triumphant roar. It fills the night sky, floating down to the supernaturals I had freed not five minutes before from the cells under the arena. They will carry my story, they will be alive, even if I am not. And that is enough.

I turn to face the golden double doors, swords held at the ready. If I die here today, I die like a warrior. How I wish I had my other shift so I could decimate them, but I will fight until I can’t fight any longer. Never again will I be trapped, chained to another person. My soul and swords theirs to control.

The doors smash open with magic, the witches pouring in with their black hoods up, powers ready in their hands. The high priestess steps forward, the queen’s head rolling to her feet, and her head tilts back, the hood falling down to reveal her withered face as she lets out a cry of grief. Her beloved, very human daughter is dead...at my hands.

Magic smashes into me from all sides, incantations filling the room. With a roar I charge, even though the odds aren’t good. I’d rather die now than later. I manage to kill a few, but they are too strong, their magic wrapping around me like chains and dragging me to the ground.

Before everything goes black, I see the high priestess’s bright, cold blue eyes before me. “You will suffer for your actions, beast.”

“I woke up chained, which seems to be a recurring theme in my life.” I pause. “I was searching for you, the witches found me first, and when I woke up I was here.”

“I’m sorry, Dume.” She grins at me. “Want me to help kill them?”

A laugh tumbles free, a sound so foreign to me that I freeze. “You are bloodthirsty.”

“One of my better qualities, I assure you,” she purrs. “We were confused. My other mate, Nos, could smell witches, and when we contacted a few others they all smelled something different. We figured out they were working together, we just don’t know why. Women are disappearing and now I’m beginning to think the council is behind it.”

“The witches will work for whoever pays the best, or if it means they can hurt supernaturals. They hate them with a passion, they think they are above us, think their power was bestowed by gods and we are nothing but nightmares gone wrong.”

“Well, they are going to love me.” She beams. “My bull, I’ll free you, and together we will figure out what’s going on and stop them. Humans are being taken as well, I saw them and the labs set up in the basement to try and bring out supernatural qualities in them.” She frowns as I growl.

“That sounds like the experiments they used to work back when I was free, always trying to find better, badder monsters to control.”

“We need to find out what’s going on and stop them before there is no one left to fight them. I haven’t been in this world long, but I know about people who crave power, they won’t stop here,” she mutters.

“How do we stop them?” I frown. “I am chained and we are locked up.”

She grins then, and if she wasn’t my mate, I might even be a little scared of that smirk, instead my cock pulses, making itself known. Just then the door opens and we both jump to our feet. I try to push her behind me, but she crosses her arms and strolls around me with a shit-eating grin aimed at the eagle waiting there.

“Veyo,” she greets. “I would like to thank you for your lovely hospitality.”

“I’m glad you have enjoyed your stay, skinwalker. Are you ready to talk like civilised people now or shall I lock you back up again?”