Hate by K.A Knight
She grins at me, and she is so close I can almost touch her. Does she know who I am? Does she know what she is to me? The witches left me here to rot, they stopped coming in after I let my animal maul two of their people, and then out of the blue the door opened...and in came my mate. Tumbling into a graceful heap where she proceeded to pass out. I watched her the whole time, protecting her, my animal wanting to roar at having found her, but I wouldn’t let him, she needed her rest.
She is a tiny thing. I was sure during the time she slept and I watched that she would be terrified of me. Such a little body with long, golden hair the likes of the kings and queens of old. Her beauty unmatched throughout the ages, her eyes huge and blue and I wanted to see them again, craved those long lashes to open so those orbs could once again lock on me. Her body is curvy, and I ache to reach out and map each dip and flare.
But no, she was not terrified of me like I thought. What irony, I had thought, to give a monster like me a tiny mate who wouldn’t be able to fight. Yet here she stands, toe to toe with my animal. A feat no one else has ever managed...and lived. Those eyes as blue as the water near my home, unwaveringly focused on me. Her red, rosy lips pulled up in a smile that has my cock rock-hard even in this form.
She might be small, but she is a warrior.
I can tell as much by her bravery to face down a monster like me, her courage outweighing any fear she may have. I inhale hard, I don’t smell any at all. No, something else. Something sweet. It wraps around me, drifting from her body, and settles into my bones. Its roots spreading through my veins, pulling an echoing call from deep within my soul.
It isn’t her who steps away or cowers, it is me.
“What magic are you pulling?” I roar, moving until my back hits the cell wall. Never again will I be trapped, not even by the woman who is to be my mate. No magic will force me to servitude, not again. Whatever she is doing, it won’t work.
“Magic?” she echoes, tilting her head and watching me as she strolls closer, uncaring that more and more smoke drifts from my snout as my anxiety spirals. I can almost feel the magical chains dragging me back to my pit. How much of a fool was I, thinking I could trust another being? She will betray me, they always do.
“Witch,” I hiss. Surprisingly enough, my animal is...calm. Settled almost, wanting to curl up around her and purr. It is my human half which is suspicious, always is and always will be. Mate or not.
“No, try again.” She laughs like we are playing a game, finding amusement in seeing me scared of her.
“I can feel it,” I snap, and my hooves clank against the floor in agitation.
“Can you?” she purrs, stepping closer and laying her head on my chest. Her eyes widen. “I can taste the racing of your heart, is it you who fears me?”
“I fear no one,” I snarl at her. “I do not want to be trapped by a pretty face again.”
Her expression softens then as she searches my eyes, an understanding entering them, but how could anyone understand what I have been through? “Me either,” she whispers. “I promise you, minotaur, I’m not doing magic. I don’t think I even have any, not like that,” she vows, and it echoes around—truth.
“Dume,” I rush out. “My name is Dume.”
“Dume.” She rolls it around on her tongue before a smile curves her lips. “What are you feeling that has you spooked?”
“My heart is racing, head fuzzy...I, erm, my cock is hard. I want you, so badly with an inhuman need,” I admit.
“It isn’t magic, minotaur.” She laughs, her eyes bright with amusement, lips stretched in a grin.
“No?” I rasp.
“No, it’s lust, Dume. Good, old-fashioned lust. You want to fuck me. No magic here.” She winks.
