Hate by K.A Knight

Ican’t take my eyes off the magnificent creature held in a forest god’s arms. I scan the others and note I am the strongest...apart from her. Her power feels wild, uncontrolled, and unknown. I can see a link between them as power flows between her and the men, and I don’t think she even realises she is pulling it. Interesting.

I straighten and she watches me, her teeth digging into her plump lower lip. The skinwalker likes what she sees, good, this body was created to tempt weak mortals and supernaturals alike. It is good she is attracted to it, it will make stealing her and taking her for my own that much easier.

“Lucifer?” she repeats, and turns her head, seeming to communicate telepathically with the man holding her before she kisses him and he puts her down. I almost feel the buzz of their minds as they speak. Interesting, that will make it more difficult, but not impossible.

I watch her walk forward, unafraid of me even as I relax against the wall, not worried even when faced with all her monsters...mates. Indeed, she must be powerful to call all of these creatures.

After growing tired of watching the council prepare for yet another pompous meeting, I had been unable to help myself. I had hoped to find her, following that pull she seems to have over me. Only when I did, she had been dying at the hands of a fallen, but she enjoyed it. I had watched, ready to intervene. He doesn’t get to kill her, only I do when I have had enough of her. But then she came back, snapped right back like she was unable to die, and screamed with release.

Oh yes, the little skinwalker is perfect. Craving power, blood, and death, she will crave what I offer. Will beg at my feet for it, and for scraps of my attention.

They did not know I was here of course. I had blended in, waiting, watching, and learning, but I couldn’t handle it anymore, I had to introduce myself. I had to meet her.

“In the flesh, walker.” I grin and she shivers as my power hits her, washing through her. Hmm, she’s so responsive. I wonder if she will be the same when she is on her knees sucking my cock, chains around her neck and ankles.

Her eyes narrow like she heard the thought—impossible.

“Well, that won’t work for me. I’m not calling you that stupid name. How about Lucy?” she suggests, hands on her hips, her eyes spitting venom at me. Oh yes, she heard my thoughts.

“Lucy?” I echo, scoffing. “Snake, Serpent, Oh Great One. Take your pick, walker, but remember who you are talking to.”

“Oh, and who is that?” she taunts, eyebrow raised. I can see the others looking between us, no doubt they know who and what I am, yet they don’t try to stop her, don’t try to control her as she angers me, so instead, I laugh.

“Your little dragon fetched me, precious. I am the sleeping council,” I inform her, and she just stares, the declaration falling flat. Normally people cower, cry, or beg for forgiveness, some even scream.

“So?” is what she says, unimpressed.

“I am the big bad, precious, so watch your tone. I am here to right the wrongs, after all, and you wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire,” I snap, my voice leaking power. How dare she question me.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Aska woke you, brought you here to stop me from being killed when I—as you call it—get caught in the crossfire.” She steps closer then, her eyes leaking to black, and my cock jerks in my pants, wanting to be buried in her warm, wet heat like the fallen was as she screams for me, her nails clawing through my back, flaying me open. “‘Cause, Lucy? I’m the crossfire. You might be some big bad, but I’m the fucking worst. Nobody’s walking out of that council alive, with or without you there. Kill me if you want, kill us all, but it won’t stop what’s happening, what’s started. We have had enough, and a price has to be paid. A blood debt is owed for what they have done. You can either be a part of it or against it.” She shrugs, as if everything is that easy.

How dare she.

One little woman questioning me? Telling me, me, what to do?

Attraction or not, pull or not, she does not get to speak to me like that. I have killed for less, and she will be no exception. She will fear me, she will obey me. Or she will die.

Anger flows through me as I start to change. I shall show this little skinwalker exactly why I am on the sleeping council. Why the world fears me, why they locked me away to keep themselves safe, and why they barely breathe my name at night in case it calls to me.

Why they hate me.

Why they cringe in terror.

She watches as I grow, my eyes flaming as I transform into my true form. The others step closer to her, trying to protect her from me as my hooves burn through the floor, my mist swirling with power and swarming the room. “You will show respect and address me correctly!” I boom.

She laughs, actually laughs, and steps closer to me. I watch her approaching in confusion. Why isn’t she running? Throwing herself at my feet and asking for forgiveness? “And you will stop having a tantrum. If you are here to right the wrongs, you might want to come with us, since the meeting is about to start and I would hate to be late, Lucy,” she declares, and then ignoring my anger, she turns and starts to saunter away.

“Skinwalker,” I fume, my voice shaking the room. She stops at the door. “You will not call me Lucy, or else.”

She grins, winking at me over her shoulder—such bravery. “Are you coming, Lucy, or are you going to stand around here stroking your cock and telling yourself how powerful you are?”

Then she leaves, and I blink in shock as the others laugh and follow after her…I do not understand. How could one little woman, a skinwalker, face me down. Even Xaph is hesitant to...yet she was not.

What just happened?

Most importantly, if people start to call me Lucy, I am going to kill that little woman.